Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Finding the Beauty

I have really been skipping computer time lately, but decided to do some catching up tonight.  That means answering a couple of emails, pretending to do research on some upcoming family purchases, and going to Pinterest to waste time look at useful things.

I ran across this picture and these words:

"A mark for every breath you took, every blink, every sleepy yawn. One for every time you sucked your thumb, waved hello, closed your eyes and slept in the most perfect darkness. One for every time you had the hiccups. One for every dream you dreamed within me. It isn't very pretty anymore. Some may even think it ugly. That's OK. It was your home. It's where I first grew to love you, where I lay my hand as I dreamed about who you were and who you would be. It held you until my arms could, and for that, I will always find something beautiful in it."

It's from a website called www.inpursuitofparenthood.com, which apparently is no longer online, but the pins are still there.  I was struck by the picture.  I guess because if I was to lift up my shirt, I have some of that rocking, too!  (The picture is not of my tummy, but I totally have some major stretch marks and stuff from my sweet girls.)  At first I was a little curious as to why someone would post this picture.  Not that I was offended, just taken aback by the honesty, I suppose.  Then I read the words and thought of my Caroline.  I love the words she shared.  If I was going to  change anything about it, I would just add that it was where she lived her life.  Her whole life.  And I'm blessed to have these marks, these "scars."  They're permanent and tangible reminders of my sweet girl (and subsequently, her little sister).  No, I'm not going to sport a bikini anytime ever again, but I'm just fine with that.

I am thankful that I stumbled on this, thankful for the reminder that there is beauty in the mess, thankful for my Caroline, thankful for our Addalee, thankful that I'm still standing.  Because those first days when I looked down at my belly, virtually unrecognizable from what it had been when I got pregnant with Caroline, I was so destroyed.  Not only did I not get to keep my girl, I had to live with the floppy and stretch marked reminder each and every day.  It's taken me a long time to see the beauty, but happily, now I do.


  1. Those are some beautiful words. Love that you found that!

  2. Beautiful indeed. I actually still have the lina negra and will be sad once it totally fades. I remember feeling my belly after giving birth to Cale and being so sad at how floppy it was but mostly at how it, and my arms, were empty.

    This was beautiful - thanks for sharing.

  3. I will never wear a bikini bc my tummy looks like that.:-) my sweet husband told me once he was fine with it-I earned every one of them. You grew two beautiful girls and there is beauty in all of it. Hugs!