How a Baby Taught Me I Am Beautiful

I have always struggled with self-confidence and body image issues. I am quick to point out all my flaws--my pasty skin, crooked toes, crooked teeth, just barely tall enough to ride roller coasters..to name a few. In fact, Chris and I's first big "fight" was because he was lovingly telling me short jokes, and I was super offended. That fight had nothing to do with Chris and everything to do with my ever-plummeting self-confidence. I realize that most things I (and you, for that matter) notice in a mirror are literally unnoticeable to everyone else. But it doesn't stop me from noticing...and caring...and whining.

Then I had a baby. Childbirth is THE most disgusting thing in the world. I saw some pretty ugly things on March 4, 2014. Unfortunately, Chris saw some even uglier things. Whoops. But then we saw the most beautiful thing we've ever seen.

1 minute after birth

She changed everything.

She was so gorgeous. She had perfect skin--so tan and even. Her eyes were deep blue (though they are dark hazel now), and her eyelashes would make any grown woman jealous. She had soft, auburn hair. She was perfect in every way.

And I realized that this beautiful creature had come from me.

God had used parts of me to make a beautiful new creation.

I am beautiful. I always was.

Nothing about my body is quite the same it used to be. I probably won't be wearing a bikini this summer. But it's okay because my body did a beautiful thing. It housed and nourished a little girl, and now it feeds her perfect nutrition. How beautiful.

But this is not a blog post about how a woman's body changes after childbirth. It's about how a baby can make you realize that none of those little imperfections matter. In fact, they were never really imperfections in the first place.

I see my daughter's shiny red hair and know that she wouldn't have that if I wasn't the pasty ginger I am.

I tickle my daughter's beautiful feet and tiny baby toes and realize they are my own. They don't look so ugly anymore.

I hold my daughter's little hand and recognize those little fingers. They are soft and delicate, instead of short and stubby.

All her smirks, raised eye brows, open-mouth smiles, and tiny, toothless grins remind me that she is both beautiful and MINE. All I see is perfection. She will probably pick herself apart when she's older, and I probably won't see what she's talking about. So how much more so is it important that I teach her how beautiful she is by showing her how beautiful I am? Not that stare-in-the-mirror, look-down-on-others beautiful. Not that ignore-the-imperfections beautiful. But the kind of beautiful that understands 1) we are all made by God, 2) God doesn't make mistakes, 3) therefore we have no imperfections, so 4) we are beautiful and always have been.

Inner beauty will always be more important than outer beauty, but if you've ever been a person, you know that the way we look DOES matter to us. The way we see ourselves affects the way we feel about ourselves and treat others. I want my daughter to know she is beautiful. I want her to teach others that they are beautiful too. She's already off to a great start by teaching me.


Happy 2 months old, Caroline Rose!

#ispelledsquealswrong