This is my letter of apology.
You are not as pretty as you used to be.
You are no longer flat or smooth or firm.
You have a line running down your center, you’ve grown hair where you never have before and to be perfectly honest, you kind of jiggle sometimes.
No, you are not as pretty as you used to be.
But you are his favorite place to rest his head and his favorite place to climb. He cuddles into you when he needs some warmth and he runs his tiny palms across your scarred surface. And it was inside you that he grew for nine months.
And so, I want to say sorry.
Sorry that I frown when I look at you in the mirror and constantly try to find clothes that will cover you up. Sorry that I spend too much time thinking about ways to make you prettier.
And thank you. Thank you for being everything that you are.
I promise I’ll be nicer.