“Looking at her reflection she is forced to blink to see clearly. Her gray hair is set in curlers. She is thinking about all the friends and family she has outlived. She considers bending down to fix her knee-high stocking, but instead, sighs deeply.
“I remember laying in my bed, crying, and asking God why He would make me if He was going to send me to Hell.”
“The first few weeks of motherhood felt very lonely. I felt so uncomfortable in my body and was searching for someone, anyone, to relate to. I saw other moms celebrating their postpartum bodies, but I could never find another plus size mother who was celebrated in the same way.”
“That’s how I knew he was the one: I didn’t care.”
“If she uses a Snapchat filter every time she takes a picture because it makes her feel pretty, let her do it. If she takes gym selfies to track her progress every day, let her do it. If she poses the same way in every picture because she likes that angle of her body the best, let her do it.”
“My husband, Jonas, began to look pale. We both chalked it up to jet lag and went on with the week. We had two small children and I was 14 weeks pregnant with our third, so being tired wasn’t out of the norm. Later that week, even picking up the kids’ toys would make him dizzy. Another week went by, all the while he continued to ride his bicycle over 20 miles a day. He came home that night after riding and had almost passed out while riding. ‘Enough is enough.’ I figured it couldn’t hurt to go to the doctor.”
“I stood and stared at myself half-naked. I missed pre-pregnancy me. I missed how my jeans used to fit. How I didn’t have to wear Spanx when I wore something fitted. I missed the way my boobs looked in a bra that actually fit me. I missed it all.”
“During my dad’s visit, he reminded me of a story that helped me to accept everything happens for a reason. I️ don’t think it was a coincidence I received the email on my daughter’s second birthday, September 6th. But I’ll let you decide.”
“Riley’s response when we left was, ‘Mom, this is why kids have anorexia or feel like they want to hurt themselves.’ She is exactly right!”
“These scars are my war marks of fighting to LIVE.”
We rely on ads to keep creating quality content for you to enjoy for free.
Please support our site by disabling your ad blocker.
Continue without supporting us
If the prompt is still appearing, please disable any tools or services you are using that block internet ads (e.g. DNS Servers).