Dear Pre-Baby Body:
I miss you. Terribly. I miss our shopping trips, our skinny jeans, and our shirts that buttoned over our boobs. I miss our normal bras and our t-shirts sans spit up. I miss our jeans hitting our waist without the "muffin top" that does overfloweth.
I miss our smooth skin that didn't break out as if we are prepubescent and our hair that used to be curly or straight or anything other than its current state of frizzy undecideness.
I am trying to find you again, oh pre-baby body of mine. It's hard work. You're pretty far away. You're somewhere through the valley of sweatpants, over sized men's t-shirts, and sensible shoes. But I'm coming for you, fear not. Be patient. I will find you. Somehow. And we will frolic again through the fields of high heels and True Religion Jeans.
Dear Post-Baby Body:
You rock. I am undoubtedly in your debt. What an amazing feat you have achieved. My little baby thanks you for your life giving abilities, your food processing, and your sleep depraved circles that now rest under your eyes.
You were necessary, and appreciated, and valued for all you did.
But your work here is done. It's time for you to leave. Vacate the premises. Go on a looooong vacation. Perhaps permanently - I'll let you know if your services are needed again.
However, feel free to leave behind the patience you gave me that helps me laugh during bouts of sleeplessness, the ability to do 500 things with only two arms - all at the same time, the ability to love more than I ever knew was possible...and my bigger boobs. Those can stay.
Cori - on behalf of her pre-baby body and all her clothes that feel abandoned.