I remind myself that this body gave me the love of my life. That it grew something from nothing. That it endured endless bouts of sickness, days spent hugging the toilet, aches and pains that made me feel like I’d never walk properly again, an emergency surgery that—so briefly—convinced me I was less of a woman because I couldn’t push my child out. A surgery that had me unable to stand on my own for days, to take more than a couple steps with my newborn in my arms. This body isn’t perfect, but it’s strong. Physically, mentally, in everything I’ve worked so hard to overcome. This body isn’t
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