At 3 and a half weeks postpartum and as I begin to move beyond the bubble of new baby bliss, reality is setting in. Most of my non maternity clothes display quite clearly where my nearly 10 lb baby was not too long ago. And sure, that makes sense. And truly, I am in awe of my body, of the female form and how incredibly wise it is, how it has already, on its’ own begun to resume to its former shape. Though, I hesitate in even saying "resume" as to imply there is a going back, or a returning to. I am, and my body after all, are changed.
And while I can admit that this is definitely not how I want to look long term, some sadness surfaced when thinking about letting this rendering of me go. My body, in its plump and relaxed state, stands as a reminder of the home it was to my babe, which offered comfort as we eased into a new phase of life, no longer physically entwined but still very much existing together.
The postpartum period is sacred. While popular culture may have us believing otherwise, it is not something we need to be rushing out of. Just as I worked to nurture and care for myself to prepare for birth, it has been equally important for me to go easy on myself in these weeks that have followed and give myself time to say thank you to my body and honor all that it has been through before placing any extreme demands on it. For I know deep down (even as I currently grow more and more uncomfortable with the way I am “wearing” the past 10 months) that my body is something to be awed and appreciated not hurried and criticized.
So I write this and post this picture with some hesitation in that I do not want to create any felt sense of competition within myself nor within anyone else, but to simply document where I am starting from as I make my way back into a hopeful and fairly regular yoga practice. . Perhaps other things will be included in this journey, but for now, it is just me, my yoga mat and my intention to love myself through it.