Those Stretch Marks Run Deep!
This post introduces Guest Post author YumYucky to WeAreTheRealDeal. She is the mother of four (who somehow looks like a teenager) but has the battle wounds to prove it!
My children changed my life forever, but please don’t cue the singing birds and violins. I’m not referring to the warm and fuzzy, tender moments of motherhood.
I’ve got stretch marks, doggone-it!
But I won’t complain or solicit donations for plastic surgery. This is a celebration of the stretchy battle wounds women endure to bring forth the spawns that are our loving, well behaved, cereal-inhaling children.
We earn our stripes daily as we grow the child, birth it with joy at 10 centimeters dilated, and sling it on our hip as we multitask and serve Husband refreshing beverages. If you don’t care to participate in this Stretch Mark Extravaganza I won’t hold it against you. In fact, I’ll be happy to hold your hand as they wheel you into tummy tuck surgery.
I’m not so far off my rocker to label stretch marks a reward, especially since they’re infamous for causing a ton of aesthetic grief, but I’m learning to be happy in my skin and I’m exceedingly grateful for the purpose of “the stretch” and what it helped to accomplish. Mothers, don’t scrutinize yourself when you gaze into the mirror. Bodily perfection is a lie and it’s time to catch on to the truth.
There are a few things about my physical nature that cannot be changed naturally and I’m okay with that. I’ve got a stretchy mid-section and it’s a bummer, but I’ll just slip into my sexy one-piece bathing suit and walk in the confidence that I’m still one hot Momma!