Dear Postpartum body
An Open Letter to my Body After Pregnancy Loss
I’m not mad at you… I don’t think. I’m just mad. In fact, I’m angry FOR you. You were supposed to be celebrated during this time. I was supposed to be excited when my milk came in and laughing at myself in a diaper along side my newborn. I was supposed to happily count the days as we trudge through them together. I was supposed to drag you through sleepless nights with aches and pains and the pure bliss of postpartum misery with a grumble and a smile. I was supposed to photograph you in awe of what you had done and celebrate as you returned to a version of yourself that more resembled what you used to be.
In stead, I’m just mad.
I’m mad that, even though I have no baby to feed, my breast as still filling with the liquid gold that should have sustained him for months, maybe years to come. I’m mad that you are in a diaper alone, bleeding as you cry. I’m mad that you fit into these pre-pregnancy jeans already, only two days after giving birth. This was not supposed to happen yet. We were supposed to have months of me picking you apart while admiring all you had just done.
I am still in awe of your strength and your resilience. But I’m also just so mad.
I wasn’t ready for this. You weren’t ready for this. I was ready for buying maternity cloths and finally giving up structured waist bands. In stead, I’m returning packages as they come in.
I was supposed to be showing off your beautiful round belly. You were supposed to glow for 4 more months. Your hair was supposed to stay full and vivacious for a while still. I’m sorry that it will start to fall out soon. I’m sorry you have to go through all of that and still your arms don’t get to hold the tiny body you worked so hard to grow for nineteen weeks.
Dear postpartum body, I’m sorry all you feel is my anger. I promise, I’m not mad at you.
This is postpartum, and I’m not supposed to be here yet.