Three pregnancies in four years does a number on your body. So much about my body no longer resembles what it looked like prior to embarking on this journey. At the risk of sounding shallow, that was one of the hardest (and continues to be) adjustments for me. Things just don't look the same. My body doesn't feel the same. And how could it? It has grown, supported and birthed three beautiful little people.
I had read a blog post several years ago that has always stuck with me. I wish I could remember who the author was, but that information has been lost, along with most of my vocabulary, compliments of baby brain. The woman was discussing her heart breaking struggle to get pregnant. Her desire for a child of her own was so great, it consumed all of her thoughts. Finally, she and her husband conceived. They were beyond excited and, as the baby grew within her, she developed a single stretch mark on her stomach. Her sister had complained about her pregnancy stretch marks, but she loved this stretch mark. It meant that there was a baby growing inside her. Tragically, she lost the baby later in her pregnancy. Her body mostly returned to normal, having escaped the more physically deforming aspects of pregnancy, except for that one stretch mark. It remained. And she cherishes it because it is physical proof of her baby.
Needless to say, I sobbed after reading that. I have had many trials in my life, but conceiving a child has not been one of them. It made me feel spoiled and selfish.
Since reading it, I have tried to have that perspective regarding my own body. But it has been admittedly hard. After a grueling workout last night (shout out to Amber!), I was laying in bed thinking about my exercise journey over the last six months and how no matter how hard I work, there will likely always be some extra skin on my stomach, certain scars that will never go away and a different shape to my overall body. And that's when it hit me:
Jesus Christ has scars. Scars on His hands, His feet, and His side. Scars that could have been removed when He was resurrected, but He instead decided to keep them. Scars that represent all that He did for us. He literally carries reminders of us on His body.
"...yet will I not forget thee, O house of Israel. Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands..." - 1 Nephi 21:15-16
Profound, right? Ergo, if I am to follow Christ's example, I should embrace my scars. They are a testament to my precious children. Even after they have grown and gone, my body has been forever changed. I will always carry a reminder of them with me; every minute of every day. Our bodies are living journals, each is completely unique and testifies of our lives. Such a simple truth that has been drowned out by the world's unrealistic expectations of perfection.
I am going to recommit myself to having this perspective and seeing the negative feelings for what they are: the adversary's attempt to make me miserable. How grateful I am for the whisperings of the Spirit!
