It happened again. The whole, if you get up to use the bathroom you will find yourself hungry... which leads you to the kitchen and eventually the computer to unload the thoughts swirling around in your head for the internet world to read.
There is something about being in the thick of noise that leads you to appreciate quietness all the more. Currently two pre-teens and one teenager are sleeping soundly upstairs making me appreciate the soft chirping of the birds outside all the more. Our nephews and niece spent the night last night after a fun-filled evening of pizza, mini golf, ice cream and monopoly. By the time we went to bed I was exhausted, yet here I am... up way too early after a late bedtime.
Now to the point of this blog post.
My dear husband was kind enough to point out stretch marks the other day. Yep. I have joined the ranks of mothers who will be searching for cute one piece swimsuits post birth. I knew it would happen, that is was probably inevitable. But that didn't stop the couple of quick tears that I shed. So vain, I know... but I'll blame it on the hormones.
It didn't take too long after pulling out a mirror to investigate before we were in the car heading to Target to get some Vitamin E based oil. It probably won't help, but at least I can tell myself I am trying to prevent them from getting any bigger. Perhaps the special oil I bought in Germany or the loads of additional lotion I have slathered on just wasn't good enough. Wishful thinking, right? Especially when I hear time and time again that they are just hereditary.
I continue to tell myself that these little marks will only serve as a reminder of the special time I shared with my son. The only time in his life where I was able to "hold" him 24/7. After all, if moms are heroes then stretch marks are just our battle scars.