Temple

Watching my body grow is a gift unlike any other.

How many sleepless nights did I spend pleading for this; for a robust mid-section and a rounded belly to hold. I ached for stretch marks and morning sickness and midnight trips to the bathroom to pee, yet again.

Each wearisome symptom a welcome reminder—it's working. It's really working. This is finally real.

This body I once scorned has become my most prized possession. The belly I too often sucked in and sighed out disappointment, I now delight in; praying that it is soft enough, tender enough for new life to grow. I want as much cushion as possible to protect this tiny seedling from the bumps and bruises of the world on the other side.

How I wish I had shown my body the same love and affection through all the years that she was changing, struggling, pushing onward. Instead of honoring her endurance; her will to live on; I chastised her for not fitting the mold. I stuffed her into too-tight jeans and suffocated her in spanx so that the dress would lay flat. How I wish I had let her dance with me; every loose and soft part.

How ironic that now all I want is for her to grow large; to protect this new life within me.

When I first got sick—still a teenager—I hated her for making me different from the others; for prohibiting me from continuing in sports; for causing a scene when she couldn't stand any longer, collapsing to the floor despite her best efforts to hold me upright.

So many years I wasted resenting her, not understanding her. Every doctor's appointment they examined her; said she looked fine from the outside. Desperately in search of answers, their benign reports only drove me madder. Why couldn't she just cooperate?

Now I know her for the force that she is. She is the divine vessel that carried me; this still fragile soul. Through countless surgeries, she recovered. Working 70+ grueling hours a week to get the insurance we needed to start IVF, she pressed on. Over 100 injections, 13 different prescriptions, endless examinations and procedures, she persisted.

I owe her everything. She alone has made me mother. I cherish her grit; her fortitude.

I avow myself to this singular task: honoring her for the temple she is; that she always was.