The fabulous Jennie Saia who pens the equally fabulous blog Tip of My Tongue invited me to share my thoughts on my post-pregnancy body image. I love this post, and I’d be thrilled if you checked it out. Thanks!
Today’s post is from Emily, who writes about parenting, education, and hilarious miscellany at her WordPress-recommended blog The Waiting. Her story needs no other introduction.
I remember the exact moment my body became postpartum.
All that day it had been swollen with baby. For my entire pregnancy I had felt a kinship with my midsection and the growing person it contained; it was me and not me at the same time, and I loved that feeling because while it was complicated, I knew that no one was expecting me to wrap my brain around it. I was off the hook because the universe is big. My relationship with my baby was ethereal and complex but since she was anchored to my very (very) tangible body, I had a handle on the depth of what was happening. All I had to do was look down.
(Or crave an entire…
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