My Body Isn’t Perfect
It’s not the body I used to have.
My stomach is a lot more squidgey, elasticated trousers are my new best friend. It doesn’t sit flat, or feel firm and it won’t ever see the sun in a bikini again. But it’s ok, it grew my baby.
My boobs aren’t what they used to be. They don’t point in the same direction they used to, gone are the days of a cleavage skimming top. But that’s ok, they fed my baby.
My legs are bruised and battered and they haven’t seen a razor in a while. My feet hurt and my back aches. But it’s alright, they carry my baby.
My face has more lines and my eyes look tired. I’ve got dark bags and could do with a tone and cleanse. The bouncy smooth skin has gone, I’m quite pale. But it’s fine, I’m waking for my baby.
My hair isn’t as shiny as it was. It doesn’t smell quite as floral, it doesn’t remember what a conditioning treatment is. There’s no time for salon appointments and nail painting. But it’s fine, I’m taking care of my baby.
I’m proud of my new body. It won’t walk the catwalk or model for Vogue. The admirers aren’t queuing in the streets and the size 8 skinny jeans are long gone. But my body grew life, it nourishes it. I play on the floor, pace the bedroom at midnight and take 30 second showers.
But I’m blessed, I’ve got my baby.