Despite all this good fortune, the past few days I've been full of vain, irrational sadness about the way my stomach looks now. It's gone from being cute-if-slightly-poochy and stretchmark-free to being completely bisected by an enormous incision that looks like a set of train tracks. The skin and muscles are all lumpy from being sewn back together. It's jarring and foreign and I don't recognize myself.
I'm in dire need of some perspective, because it's just my belly. It's not my brain or one of my limbs or even a very serious Life Issue. I'm going to let myself be sad for a little while, though. It's OK to do that when things change like this, I think. I'm going to miss my cute little violet bikini.
When I do feel it's time to chin up and move on, I'll have a bunch of stuff that makes me laugh sitting right here on the blog, ready and waiting. Stuff like this:
1) Any and all comics from Married to the Sea.
2) Any of the Epic Rap Battles of History, especially my all-time favorite, which I could probably perform with a sufficient number of drinks in my system:
3)Selected Lonely Island videos, like this one. If you don't find this funny, then I'm afraid we just don't understand each other.
Mr. Milkweed found this one for me. Sympatico isn't a strong enough word.
4) Oh, what the hell. This one, too.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE GROUND
**The sleeping-- oh my LORD, the sleeping. There has been so very much of it. It's insane how little I have to do to suddenly need a two or three hour nap. Yesterday we all made it to church, which meant getting showered and ready and making the kids presentable, which necessitated lying down for half an hour just to have enough energy to make it out the door. Then came actually going, and I was so happy to be there, but then we got home and it was faceplant time. SO VERY MUCH OF THE SLEEPING, ALL OF THE TIME.
3 comments:
Dude, the fact that you've had two kids and are just now saying goodbye to your bikini is pretty remarkable. But I can relate to grieving over your body changing forever--I'm entering that stage of pregnancy (hellooooo stretch marks! Oh, the injustice.) and am needing some perspective, too.
I think my dodging the stretch-mark bullet was 100% a product of hereditary, but I do know they disappear for a lot of mamas-- may you be one of them! I don't know-- maybe the scar will fade or I'll just say Eff it and wear the bikini anyway. It was actually only after having the two kids that I felt at home enough in my own skin to wear it. How's that for irony?
*heredity, not hereditary.
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