“My OBGYN looked at my husband. ‘WOW, check out the hair!! Does anyone in your family have blond hair??’ Deep in pushing, I yelled back at him, ‘Can we have this conversation later?’”
		- Love What Matters
 - Health
 
		
		  “My OBGYN looked at my husband. ‘WOW, check out the hair!! Does anyone in your family have blond hair??’ Deep in pushing, I yelled back at him, ‘Can we have this conversation later?’”
		  “‘Hmmm, that’s funny their moms have the same name,’ I told my roommate. My roommate and I were looking at each other wondering if we were thinking the same thing. Part of me wanted to blab it all in that moment and reveal this huge secret.”
		  “For me, it was 9 months of living in fear that each kick from within, each twinge, each flutter, would be the last. And for him, it was 9 months of surviving in a womb that had left his two previous siblings without breath, a womb that had seen more death than life.”
		  “Am I 100% thrilled all the time with how my body looks in every picture? No, but I share it anyways, and I share the way it feels to look different than society thinks you should.”
		  “Loose skin, stretched skin, white lines. Abdominal separation, prolapses, third degree tears and cesarean scars. Weight gain and weight loss. Wider hips, bigger breasts. It’s all there. A body that is a far cry from what it was. ‘Babies ruin bodies’”
		  “Things were looking up, so we thought.”
		  “I will not take this ring off again until I meet the man who recognizes my value and wants to love me completely – just like my husband. I will no longer waste my time trying to convince somebody to pick me.”
		  “Austin, my son with autism, asked him, ‘Have you killed anyone in a war?’ I quickly tried to hush him up. He looked at Austin and said, ‘No, but I know bullets can kill.’ Austin looked perplexed. ‘Do you like video games?’ ‘Yes, I love video games.’ Austin smiled from ear to ear.”
		  ‘Let her live Lord. Just let her live. I’ll be better. I’ll be the best. I’ll never sin or cuss or be mad at my husband. I’ll cherish her. I don’t care if she is delayed. I’m a therapist, God…I can handle it. Just. Let. Her. Live.’
		  “I found myself staring at the reflection of a woman I hardly recognized. Her hair an unkempt mess. Eyes dark and tired. Skin dull and sullen. She looked like she had given up on herself, and in a way, she had.”

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