Thank you. Thank you from the depths of our heart. How could I say anything else to you?
How could I say to you that your stretch marks are ugly? They showed up fierce, angry and violet; fresh and itchy from the stretching and strain of pregnancy. Now they're soft silver feathers that ripple across your skin; proud markers of everything you did for our baby. You kept her safe for nine months.
How could I say to you that I'm ashamed of your breasts now that they're flatter and sagging? They swelled and fed our baby with the sweetest milk that made her plump and healthy. Now they're gentle pillows for her tiny head to rest on.
How could I say that you are no longer beautiful now that the firmness is gone? You went through hell and back growing the most precious gift of my life inside of you. And you laboured and endured tremendous pain to deliver her safely into this world. You are more beautiful now than you've ever been, because I know your power despite your softness.
You're no longer firm, round, tight, curvy or any of those other sexy words used to describe the perfect female form. But you're beautiful in a completely different way. You are so beautiful because your features tell a story of your strength.
I'm so sorry if I ever forget that. I'm sorry if I ever call you ugly, or compare you to how you once were with envy or disappointment. I'm sorry if I shed a single tear over your new appearance.
Thank you. Thank you from the depths of our heart.