By Ange Arbuckle
I forget my body has done the most remarkable thing in human existence.
I forget I carried and naturally birthed three brilliant human souls
I forget the pushing, the crowning and the healing afterward.
I forget the early days when I didn’t know if I was cut out for this new mom job.
I forget the hundreds of sleepless hours.
I forget the thousands of nursing moments where my breasts nourished their bodies.
I forget my nipples were once cracked, bleeding and sore.
I forget the worry and fret that would arise with every fever and doctor visit,
I forget the endless boo-boos, cuts, bangs and bloody knees.
I forget the constant meals, but if I were to count it’s roughly 3,285 a year,
not including snacks!
I forget these moments from time to time, ok, actually most of the time.
But for some reason, tonight I remembered.
And so, yes…
I may look a little tired from time-to-time.
My patience may seem fragile in moments
I may no longer be the life of the party.
Fuck, at times I cannot even make it to the party.
I may have lost my once bone-thin body to these womanly curves.
And yes my breasts may have lost most of their perkiness.
My vagina. Well, it was used for miracles.
So while I lay sleepless once again after comforting my son.
Tomorrow, I will rise, albeit tired and sleep deprived.
I will print these words and they will live on my fridge so I can remember.
So I don’t forget to honour the badass goddess self whose body is a life-giving miracle.
Motherhood does something to you that thankfully cannot be undone.
For more self-study, The Urban Howl recommends Motherhood Realized: An Inspiring Anthology for the Hardest Job You’ll Ever Love.