For years, my body was my own. Then, I had the privilege of sharing it with my husband. And now? My body has created and carried life. It currently sustains life.
My body is not my own.
One day, my body will be “mine” again, but for now it is exactly what it needs to be.
A place for my daughter to snuggle in. A means of life giving provision. It’s a resting place and a ribcage that houses a heartbeat that signals safety to my baby.
My body is not my own, but it is her home.
And that’s not a totally terrible thing.
kayfromhome 
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