Sometimes when I take the girls (my four-legged children) to the nature reserve to hike, my mind goes into crazy tangents. It’s so quiet there, most times not another soul is in sight, and for an hour the whole world leaves me the heck alone. So, my mind sometimes entertains me with random thoughts.
Today when I was walking I started thinking about stretch marks. First I thought “well, won’t it be lovely that I will have my daughter or son without a single change to my body–no stretch marks to force me from my bikini.” And then my mind immediately began to ponder, “will I ever fully join the ‘mommy’ click without a matching badge of honor?”
I have read many blogs written by women who have left the world of infertility to join the world of mom’s, yet who never fully felt like they belonged there. And maybe, just maybe, we don’t.
Why, because some of us may not have stretch marks?
No, because we all have stretch marks, ours are just so much bigger, so much more painful, and each one remains invisible to the naked eye. Our stretch marks lie in every crevice of our hearts.
You see, it is not that we cannot understand, or be a part of, the village of mothers who conceived their children with ease (and who did so through their own body, with their own eggs, and with their husband’s swimmers taking lead in the gene pool). It’s that they can never really understand, or be a part of, ours.
Because we do have stretch marks. Every single one of us has been stretched and pulled like a rubber band. We have stretch marks, they are just the kind that no one else can see.
So while some might suggest I revel in the fact that I’ll be “lucky” to never gain one single extra pound, to keep my body in the original shape in which it was formed, and to never have stretch marks I will fret over others seeing, I don’t consider it a gift. Because those stretch marks would only hurt on the outside. Mine left scars much deeper, ones that remain unseen except to those of us who’ve stretched in the same raw places.
Stretch marks: Yes, ALL women who have traveled through infertility have them. Every last one of us.