#stayathomeparent

If you find anything perverted about breastfeeding, you have a problem.
If you believe women should cover up to feed their child, you have a problem.
If you do not see the beauty in the woman’s ability to birth and feed her child from one vessel…
Then you do not know life.
Here’s to the women to breastfeed with courage, here’s to the mothers who strive to do their best to breastfeed, here’s to encouraged breast, sagging breast, growth spurts, long nights, long days, hungry babies, and so much more…

I have never been more insecure about my body until I became a mother. 

BUT here I am reminding myself that this is the temple that housed my children…

This is the body that holds that womb in which my children were co-created. My skin stretched, my tattoos faded, my body shape changed. During both of my pregnancies I rounded out and with my sun I went into labor weighing 209pds. Before motherhood, I wanted to gain weight so bad. At some point I was so skinny I looked sick. However, I sometimes miss the way my body was shaped then because my breast did not sag nor were they so big and heavy, my thighs did not have stretch marks and my limbs did not feel so weak. A part of maturing into the woman I am becoming, into my higher self, I have to embrace the physical changes that have occurred. 

My body is the same body that survived sexual trauma. My womb has been abused, misused, and tainted long before I became a mother. At some point I believed I was incapable of carrying such beautiful children like I have, that is now the beauty of my imperfections. My large breast have nursed both of my children, my stretched belly is where they grew, my thick thighs carried the weight of us all, and my strength pushed through my backbone. There is a bright side in these changes and even though there are insecurities, my love and appreciation for my temple has grown.  

About a month before giving birth to my sun, my second child, life through my husband and I a major curve ball. Our new landlord had decided to raise our rent tremendously which led us to take a risk and move out of our apartment. I was comfortable in our space, being a stay at home mom to our daughter. Perhaps I was a little too comfortable. I ended up in the hospital the night we got unpacked in my husbands mother living room. Our living situation was not ideal, I had never imagined my family sleeping on the living room floor of someone else’s home. But we had a plan and we were willing to make the sacrifices we needed to begin making our dreams come true. When I left the hospital with my newborn sun, tragedy struck. It started to feel like the whole world was against us and our plan to succeed. We moved about two more times before our cousin told us he had a full furnished room for us to lay. Not everyone we crossed on this journey was against us and I learned this when my sister opened her home to my family as well. I was on the verge of breaking, I questioned myself as a woman and most importantly I questioned myself as mother. I was devastated. The tables turned when my tribe began to come together full circle. I began seeing the bigger picture and how our tragedy was becoming a spiritual journey. We traveled to the houses of those who loved us. We had food cooked for us, encouraging conversations, and welcoming arms everywhere we went. My doubt about what type of mother I am had me push through my insecurity and I became stronger in motherhood. No matter if we were sleeping on the floor in someone’s living room I managed to make sure my children were bathed, fed, and most importantly loved. I seen my strength in being a mother, especially a new mother of two. I defeated post par-tum, I conquered my fears, and I fell in love with my husband over and over and over again. I find it amazing that our biggest struggles can humble us if we allow it. My purpose, in part of our new journey, is to share with mothers, wives, and sisters on how we can become stronger even in our demise. Through writing and expression I will share my story. 

This is honest mothermood. 

This is ME, mothering through the wilderness.