Friday, January 20, 2012
Such Things As Coexisting
For the last several weeks, when I look downward all I see is belly.
I haven't embraced it in the way that I thought I would, and find myself wondering on an hourly basis who this unrecognizable body belongs to and what strangers think of it and will I be able to tie my shoes in the morning?
Still, as the days go by I'm growing further and further in awe of this entire process, how my muscles and bones and hormones have taken over in a total and utter dictatorship, against all of my protests, directing my body to care for Aston in exactly the way that it should, in the way that every mother and doctor and midwife and textbook advises.
Yet my feelings towards it remain paradoxical. There is the intense respect I've developed for it, on an entirely new level, but it's coupled with a refusal to fully own it, to attach an identity to it, to redefine myself in any sort of physical way (though it's pretty hard to deny the pity looks I get when I'm running).
This surprises me.