Oh, how I’ve come to loathe the expression “get your body back.” As in, “don’t worry, it’s only a matter of time before you stop looking pregnant, because let’s face it, you no longer are.” Or, “yes, you may have a newborn in your hands, and you’re hardly getting any sleep, but let’s talk about how to look like none of this happened or is happening.”
Homebirth. Home. Birth. We actively sought it out. And we got it. But truthfully, we had no idea what it is that we had asked for. And so, we went into this whole thing like a couple of blind bats. Though I’m not sure that’s an appropriate analogy, because I’m certain that bats have a good sense of direction and are not just blindly flying into cave walls. Because when all is said and done, that’s kind of what it feels like right now. We flew into wall after wall, breaking every bone in our physical, emotional, mental and spiritual bodies that it’s truly a miracle we found our way out and into the light.
I remember the first time I saw my baby’s little penis in the ultrasound. I was delighted, not only because in his tininess he was overall perfect, but because I knew there was no coincidence that I was pregnant with a baby boy. A crazy surprise, yes, but not a coincidence.