For the last 20 months you have been nothing short of amazing. You grew a perfect little being inside me. You've nourished that little guy selflessly with your two breasts for the past eleven months. You've had your boobs hanging out more this past year than you've had your entire life. It doesn't matter to you, as long as you are taking care of another life you are happy. Although, I did wear a bra last Saturday that wasn't nursing accessible for the first time in almost a year—it was glorious to not have my nipples poking out during dinner.
All through the pregnancy I took extra good care of you. More for the baby than for you in all honesty. That care continued after the baby was born. At least for awhile.
Lately I've neglected you and I'm sorry for that. The sleep interrupted nights, the junk I'm putting in your mouth, the lack of water. You've been so good to me and this is how I repay you. I'm a shitty hostess.
I used to love exercising and we both benefitted from it. Not so much anymore. I realized last night that it has been almost two years since I've really worked out—besides walking with the family. Things are just so crazy around here and I've let my attention slip away from you. It's not right and I'm here to correct it.
When I look at you I don't want to lick the mirror but I certainly don't turn away in disgust. The way you bounced back after giving birth is a miracle. You have changed in so many ways but you will always be mine. Powerful. Soft. Curvy. Beautiful. Life-giving.
*Inspired by BlogHer's Letters to My Body initiative.