We are stardust. We are mothers.

As many of you know who have read my blog before, I have a history of body image issues. This past year, I started finding out more about the body positivity movement and accepting and celebrating all types of bodies of all shapes, sizes, races and abilities. It was very freeing and important for me to investigate women who were saying "Hi, I'm fat, and I love myself just as I am." I made a vow to never diet again and started a mission to do 100 self-loving things in 100 days on Instagram. I got to about 60.

Why do you ask? Well, I got pregnant.

I have written in length about how much I hate being pregnant, so there is no need to beat a dead horse here. Long story short, my specific body and brain seem to be allergic to the process. I vomit constantly, my mental health goes down the tubes, and this time around, I had a little life-threatening complication as well just to spice things up.

I remember hearing other women I know and admire say that they had a new found love and appreciation for their bodies after pregnancy; that they were in awe of what their bodies could do. I didn't seem to have that reaction last time around. Rather, I felt angry at my body for the complications I experienced. Pregnancy seemed to be yet another way that my body did not fit into the female norm; just more proof that as I was, I was less than and too much, all at the same time.

That's how I felt after my first child was born.

But today I am about 6 weeks postpartum, and I am having a very different experience. Was I miserable while I was pregnant? Absolutely. Did I feel resentful towards my body for basically nine months? Yes. But I seemed to have turned a very important corner, and that is what I wanted to write about today.

I'm proud of myself and my body today. I went through hell and came out the other end with a gorgeous, healthy baby girl. Not only is she perfect, but I pushed her out of my body. I didn't use any drugs, I just fucking pushed! I experienced the absolute worst, most transformative pain of my life, and I survived! It's almost like seeing the white light and deciding to come back to earth because you have too much to live for. During the transitional part of active labor, I felt as if an earthquake was splitting my body in two. My legs were shaking and my body was writhing in pain. I was making high octane animal screams and squeezing my husband's hands so hard, I think I could have ripped them off! And then it was time to push, and baby, I just did what God created my anatomy to do. I pushed that baby out so hard, it made me feel like a mother fucking Goddess on earth! She was plopped onto my chest covered in goo and white stuff and blue from the cord being wrapped around her neck. And I said "There you are! You're here, my love." She hasn't wanted to get off my chest since!

I left this most recent birthing experience feeling like a war veteran, or a superhero. For maybe the first time in my life, I felt like my body didn't let me down, my body rose to the occasion, and took its place in the book of legends next to all the other insanely strong moms on this universe who have survived childbirth. Birthing new life into this world takes herculean effort. It is risky business. It is for the brave and the bold. I dare say that men could never do it.

I finally feel proud to say that I am brave, bold, badass and my body is INCREDIBLE.

A few minutes after my daughter was born, it was time to push out the placenta. I asked my doctor if I could see it. This is the organ that had scared me so much, as I had had an abruption at about 32 weeks. I had been afraid that the entire placenta would come unattached and put me and the baby in great danger. He lifted it up and showed me this massive, veiny, fleshy, beautiful organ that my body made just to feed my daughter. It was incredible! I was like, I built that thing? And even though a few things went wrong, it did its job. Beautifully. God bless the placenta. And God bless me!

On the topic of mommy weight and "getting your body back."

My muscles are a bit weak because of weeks of bed rest, but I know that I will get back in shape soon. My breasts are huge and full of milk, and I know that once I am finished breastfeeding, they will deflate and sag. My tummy is spattered with a map of new pink and purple stretch marks around my belly button and around my hips. My lower back hurts and my vagina is healing from being torn and stretched.

I will never get my old body back. That body is gone. But I wasn't a warrior before. Now I am. I have the scars to prove it. I do not look like a pretty young thing anymore. I look like a mother. And I'm happy with that, for the first time in my life.

I am also happy that I can say, I am finished having children. I do not ever have to put my body through this again, and I will not. I have made that promise to myself. I am so grateful I was able to carry two beautiful children into this world. And I am also grateful to know that I have the choice to say I will never do this again. My body is loved and respected, and I'm listening to it.

I am also happily treated for postpartum depression, and on a much higher dosage than with my last pregnancy. This is making a WORLD OF DIFFERENCE. I have absolutely no shame about treating my mental health. It is the responsible thing to do for myself, my kids and my marriage. Without treatment, there is no way I would feel this positive about myself and my body. Despair is not a state of being ANYONE needs to accept.

Do war vets sometimes need to be treated for trauma after battle? Yes. Do moms need help after birth? Yes. It is nothing less than a life-changing and sometimes traumatic experience and to pretend that it is just 'natural' and women should just suck it up and do their job and push babies out and never complain and not demand better healthcare and take care of the babies by themselves and go back to work immediately and trust that their bodies will heal on their own, is JUST LUDICROUS.

We need to stand up and talk about what a big deal this is, this motherhood thing, this birthing thing. I'm standing up and telling you, it's HUGE. We need help AND we know just what to do AND we know nothing AND we want to work AND we want to stay with our babies AND we are stardust connected to the universe and its creative source like never before. All of these things exist at the same time.

What a beautiful rainbow of feelings and experiences. I'm so glad I am a mother.

Thank you, Body.