4/20/10 - The Postpartum Chronicles: Day 33

Day 33 (4/20/10 - I giggled at that. How old am I?)

Not that this has anything to do with it being day 33 or 4/20. I’ve been thinking about this for a few days, but it’s tricky to get things done in a timely manner when time ceases to exist the way it used to. My days and nights get mixed up. I forget which day is what and then what that day means. I forget to do things like thank Margie Rowson Morgan:

“THANK YOU, MARGIE FOR THE WONDERFUL GIFTS YOU SENT MORRISON! I WAS GOING TO THANK YOU WITH A PICTURE OF HER NAMEPLATE UP IN HER ROOM, BUT I STILL CAN’T FIGURE OUT WHERE I’M GOING TO PUT IT. WE GOT IT ON SATURDAY (this one or last one?!) AND IT (AND THE CLOTHES! GO ZTA!) ARE SO WONDERFUL AND THOUGHTFUL. WATCH OUT, NOTORIOUS! BECAUSE YOU’RE THE BEST BIGGIE :) (I’m so sorry it took me this long to thank you. I’m very appreciative and I love you (Kris & Shockoe) very much!)

which i’ve honestly been meaning to do since the package came in the mail. Sometimes, my scheduling is a total mess.

But here’s the thing I’ve been thinking:

So I’ve got these stretch marks, right? And I was thinking that calling them stretch marks doesn’t really give my body the credit it deserves. I mean, yes, my body grew to a capacity that it was not originally designed to handle and so my skin stretched beyond where it had been (and it did it quickly). I mean, the term is technically accurate. They are marks from my skin stretching. But they’re a permanent testament to the physical sacrifice I made, not the result of one too many cheeseburgers. Yep. Overeating can give you stretch marks. Hormones can give you stretch marks. So I’m not going to call them that. And neither should you - less you got yours from puberty or eating too much.

I’m gonna call them birth scars. They’re permanent. They’re trauma related. The word scars somehow signifies something much more brutal than marks. Scars are interesting and have a story. You don’t get scars on your own (unless you’re a cutter and even those scars are interesting). Anywho, there was a battle and since I’m alive and she’s alive, I’d say we won. And I’m scarred (literally) for life. And that’s okay.