Next month will mark five straight years for me of being either pregnant or nursing.
I had a small (three month) break in between G weaning and getting pregnant with O, but basically, it’s been a long five years.
I’m tired. Scratch that. I’m exhausted. I know I share this feeling with many women across the span of, well, millenia, but somehow I still feel proud of this journey my body has endured.
I’ve spent a lot of years not liking my body very much. It has never been the fastest or the strongest, or even come close to making a goal, scoring one for the team, or crossing the finish line. It will never turn heads in a swimsuit (okay, let’s be real, out of a swimsuit either). Really, until I became a mother, I couldn’t name one thing it was particularly good at.
In addition to the obvious gift of my children, this is why pregnancy, birth, and breastfeeding have been so significant for me. I finally found something that my body was really, really good at doing. It can grow a baby! It can birth a baby! It can completely feed and nourish a baby! All on its own.
I’ve read some criticism online when women express pride in their bodies doing something as natural and God-given as baby making. “So, this is like, her greatest achievement or something?”
Uh, yeah. It is.
And I challenge anyone to think of something more meaningful.
So, thank you, Body. I am really proud and grateful for what you’ve been up to these past five years.
All photos in this post are courtesy of Dear Emma Photography. Thank you, Chelsie!
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