When I was in college there were few things less appealing than the thought of having children. Marriage is fine and something I've always wanted to head towards, but kids? No, thanks. Somewhere along the line that plan got shot to hell and I am the proud mother of the most beautiful little red haired dimple girl. I see other women's babies and small children and want to talk to them and play with their kids. I'm a totally different person.
The biggest change in my life outside of the fact that, being separated from her father, I have no sex life is that I have a ton of confidence. I look more or less the same as I did before. I'm a bit thinner and after nursing and losing weight my breasts are even smaller, a feat I had previously deemed impossible. I have a couple of stretch marks on my stomach that have already mostly faded, my stomach tattoo has a couple of tiny stretch marks that are only visible if you study it intently, and I have a number of tiny imperfections all over too minor to mention. But even still, I am way more confident. Before giving birth I hated my body and all of its imperfections. I didn't hate my vagina because I have always had a deep rooted respect for that place, but the rest of me was shit.
It wasn't just the act of giving birth that changed my perception of myself but my daughter. I want to be a positive and confident role model. I want to show her to love herself and be strong and sexy and intelligent and own whatever it is that she is. And on top of all that, my daughter thinks I am the most amazing human being ever. Not just me as a mommy but my body. My body is her strength and nourishment. I hold her when she is sad or tired to my chest. When she is happy and awake she crawls all over my body like a jungle gym. I am a pullup bar, my leg can be crawled under like a tunnel. My face is an interesting and interactive toy. She loves my body and damn it, I should too.
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