Nine Me

Joaquim was born on June 10, 2019 at 4:35 am. It weighs 3.3 kilos and measures 49 cm. About 24 hours of work later, that's it, my angel is finally with us. Actually, I should say after 39 weeks of gestation but I don't plan on getting you into a soliloquy about the past nine months, other women have done it much better before me.
We have now been back for a week.

I am lying on my bed, Joaquim has just fallen asleep close to me, I still have a hard time realizing that I am his mother. In fact, mine is still there, although she helps me on a daily basis, I dare not ask her how much longer she plans to honor me with her presence. I hold my son's frail little body while stroking his head before placing him in his cradle. It's still too early to get up, but I can't get back to sleep. The apartment is silent. My mother sleeps in the next room. I head for the bathroom on tiptoe.

Today I'm going to take a shower, alone, without anyone's help. My body is still throbbing. I undress delicately in front of the mirror. This is the first time since giving birth that I have really looked at myself. I feel like I'm about to have my body scanned, I don't know where to start.
My belly, that belly that carried life but that my mother does not seem to want to spare.
"You know, in my day, our mothers forced us to tie our bellies with a very thick cloth from the first days after giving birth. Anyway, I hope yours will deflate quickly anyway. "
Last night, she wanted to wrap a sarong around me, I was struggling to breathe.
"It's good, if you have trouble breathing it works but you have a lot of stretch marks also casually, don't you think? Did you use the cream I gave you correctly? ".
I put my hand on it, it's true that it's flabby and flabby, a bit like a balloon exposed too long to light. On each side, there are species of small dark lines that follow each other, commonly known as stretch marks.
The scanner follows its path, it stops just below. I must be quick. Postpartum contractions leave me little respite.
My stomach was preventing me from seeing it, but it is there, my second heart. He's bleeding a lot, that's normal. I don't dwell on it, it needs time to heal too. The scanner goes up to my chest. It is very painful, it is the rush of milk. The midwife says it will pass in two or three days. I take two steps back to better contemplate my body as a whole.
I have a muddy look, but it's probably due to the lack of sleep.
My face is fat, my complexion is almost pale and my features are drawn, but I don't care because I have never felt so beautiful.