Image Source: Aela Mass
Maybe because I’m only a few years away from the wise-ol’ age of 40, or maybe because it’s been a serious struggle to get pregnant, but I’m just madly in love with my pregnant body.
I don’t know if this would have been the case had I gotten pregnant at a younger and more self-conscious age, or if I didn’t appreciate all that it took to get pregnant. There are clearly beautiful parts of my current body: my growing belly, my full breasts, my glowing skin. These are so easy to love, but I also look at the “uglier” symptoms of this pregnancy and I find myself completely in love with them, too — spider veins on my legs, skin tags around my neck and chest, and blotchy red patches of burst blood vessels on my arms and face. I love it all.
I get that body-image struggles during pregnancy can be real, but — to me — the overall meaning behind why we look the way we do is so beautiful. And I truly believe that my multiple losses have made me appreciate this whole experience that much more. Even the ugly symptoms are reminders of the greatness occurring every day this baby grows. I’m unable to look at them as anything other than beautiful and hopeful and encouraging.
My legs now look like a battlefield of spider veins. But instead of seeing ugly marks that need to be zapped at the dermatologist, I see little supernovas of love from my growing daughter. I see these bursts of blood as symbols of the way my love for and the love from my daughter continues to reach and spread itself, continues to grow outward and beyond into this great world.
My body is now a canvas of skin tags, but I don’t see them as odd little growths. I see them as little extra rooms that my body needs right now to carry all the love I hold for my daughter. I see that my body is so, so full of love that it needs more space to put it all, and so these skin tags grew from me. I do not wish to have them removed. Doing so would be cutting away at the love inside of me.
I look at the red blotchy patches that now cover my arms, chest, and face as kisses from within, the very first kisses from my daughter. If each of these marks is a kiss from her, how could I ever look at any of them as ugly? I hope I get a million more kisses from her, in whatever way they manifest. These all might — and likely will — remain after my daughter is born, and I’ll love them all still as reminders of her time inside of me, as a marked-up memoir of what my body was finally able to do after years of being unable. I’m madly in love with it all now. And I’ll continue to be madly in love with my perfectly imperfect body.
The post Why I Love All the “Ugly” Pregnancy Symptoms Everyone Else Hates appeared first on Babble.