My Baby Ruined My Body

The pregnancy and birth of my baby did quite a number on me physically. Quite literally, my baby ruined my body. I think that most moms can relate to the stretch marks, sagging skin, and hanging breast.
Sure there will always be that ‘exception-to-the-rule-mom’, whose body never received a stretch mark and stomach muscles snapped back into place just 24 hours postpartum. Those of us who were not blessed with naturally tight stomach muscles hold a special kind of hate in our hearts for such moms… I jest. Honestly, though, I’m not the same girl anymore. I love the fall and winter seasons now because it gives me a reason to wear lots of long layers and I can hide my self-conscious body behind scarves and jackets. I’ve never had “hot bod”, but now, it’s just not the same.

“My baby ruined my body.”

This morning while showering, I leaned over to shave the back of my leg and saw where my stomach now folds over with extra skin. Immediately I compared my body to the Star Wars character, Jabba the Hutt. “Yuck,” I cringed and made a mental inventory of every physical feature that had changed since my daughter’s birth. I said allowed, “Child, I’ve sacrificed my body for you” as I counted each stretch mark. In an in an instance, I heard a soft voice speak back to me, “child, I sacrificed MY body for you.” I stood still, stunned.

Again, I looked down at the scar produced by the birth of my daughter and remembered the joy I felt when the doctor held her above the curtain for my first glance. If I had to make a choice to do it all again, I would! My daughter is one of my life’s greatest joys, and I would gladly go under the surgeon’s knife again if it meant having her in my life. Today, I see my scars a little differently. My pain produced my greatest joy. I wonder if Christ ever allowed his fingers to trace the scar at His ribs and think about the joy that His pain produced. I was born from that scar, just as my daughter was born from mine. At the moment of His sacrifice, it was possible for us to become a child of God. My chance to receive salvation had quite literally ruined His body.Looking over my body again, I realized that every stretch mark was a sign of how much I loved my daughter. I rubbed my fingertips over the raised scar on my lower abdomen and felt the place from where my daughter was born. Her birth was traumatic, but that trauma hadn’t ruined my ability to love her. Last week, I read a scripture about Christ’s sacrifice and then wondered how He could remain so committed and loving to me when He had walked through so much physical pain to gain me.

So yes, my body may never be the same. Yes, the birth of my baby ruined my body in the sense that I will always have that three-inch scar across my stomach. I will probably always struggle with wishing that my body didn’t resemble Jabba the Hutt quite so much, but now I understand Christ’s love for me a little clearer than I did yesterday. Now I see my body a little differently and my scars remind me of a greater love. I don’t see pain; I see love.

^“34) But one of the soldiers pierced His side with a spear, and at once blood and water came out. ³⁵⁾ He who saw this has testified so that you also may believe. His testimony is true, and he knows he is telling the truth.”
(John 19:34&35)