To my postpartum body

 To my postpartum body

I won’t lie. I struggle with you.
I catch my reflection sometimes and wonder where I went.
The body I knew feels so far away now.
The tight skin, the flat stomach, the smooth curves
they were replaced with softness, with marks, with something unfamiliar

But then I remember

You were a home
You grew a heartbeat
You carried kicks and hiccups and little dreams beneath your skin
You stretched in ways you weren’t meant to
You tore in places that never asked for it
And still, you never gave up on me

You got me through the longest nights
The hardest pushes
The moments I swore I couldn’t keep going
But you did

You bled
You leaked
You cracked
You swelled
And yet you stayed

You stayed when I cried in the shower
When I tried to hide under clothes that didn’t fit
When I was angry at you for not snapping back fast enough

But maybe you weren’t meant to snap back
Maybe you were meant to evolve
To shift and grow
To show me that beauty was never about inches or smoothness
It was always in the love we give
And the lives we bring into this world

So no, I may not always like you
But I am learning to love you
To thank you
To be gentle with you

Because you didn’t ruin me
You rebuilt me
You made me a mother
And no mirror can reflect that
But I feel it in every part of me now