On the rather ponderous topic of my daughter’s tummy

I have heard mothers speak of their babies’ beautiful toes, their sweet fingers, their soft, fuzzy heads, their button noses. I have seen pictures of baby feet up close, in sharp focus and with everything else out of focus so that it seems that these feet are the center of the universe. Gazing into a baby’s eyes is considered one of the great experiences this life has to offer. And I do love all of these things. I love my baby’s toes and eyes and gorgeous eyelashes and sweet nose,* her little rosebud mouth, her chubby legs. She is truly a marvel.

But to me, the sweetest skin and one of the things that most exhibits the awe-inspiring growth and change of a baby is my daughter’s belly. What an amazing thing!

Concerning its size: it is immense. Translated into adult proportions, she would need a major workout regimen. It grows bigger and bigger as I give her my milk.

Concerning its shape: it is incredible. When she is lying down, relaxed and at play, it flattens out and flattens itself into a giant plate. When she tenses it, it is as if she has swallowed a small bowling ball. It shifts from shape to shape moment by moment, proving her body’s ability to adapt to its needs.

In the middle of this beautiful stomach is her belly button, all that remains of the intimate tie that used to bring her life from my body. It is a reminder that she is truly mine, flesh of my flesh. I admire how it has healed and accepted the fact that it is no longer needed but still present.

But the most wonderful thing about her tummy, the thing that makes me want to never cover it with a t-shirt, is the softness of her skin. This is the skin I want to pet and rub and just stare at all day long. It is beautiful in a way my stomach’s skin will never be again (particularly after two children!). It is beautiful in a way it is almost impossible to imagine my skin ever was. It is perfect, flawless, sweet.

*A little copyediting treat: After two read-throughs of this entry, I had still failed to catch the fact that I had written “noses.” Plural. That’s quite the image.