By Mariah Baker 
It used to be flat. It used to be toned up and all one color. It used to tan really well. My stomach . . . it used to look a lot different than this.
It used to be easy. I used to wake up in the morning instead of the middle of the night. It used to be as simple as hopping in a car and going to my favorite store. It used to be as quick as running into the gas station on my way to work or saying “yes” to a 10-hour road trip when I was asked. It used to be empty arms with the ability to carry my coffee, my car keys, AND my phone, without hassle.
My life . . . it used to be pretty carefree.
It used to look a lot different than this.
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It used to be so cute. It used to be not trying it on in the store because “a small is a small.” It used to have so many options. My wardrobe . . . it used to be filled with midriff tank tops and form-fitting shirts and I’d never had to get a spit-up stain out of them.
It used to look a lot different than this.
You know what . . . it used to be kind of lonely.
It used to be sad when I saw another pregnancy announcement and I still couldn’t get pregnant. It used to be cold on my side of the bed. It used to be boring when I woke up in the middle of the night and no one was there to gab with me.
My heart . . . it used to be kind of empty.
It used to be a lot different than this.
But now it isn’t like any of that.
The best parts of my stomach, my life, my wardrobe, and my heart . . . are you.
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I hated being cold in bed. I hated having empty arms. I hated feeling obligated to every outing I was ever invited to. I hated looking forward to a family but having a bare stomach. I’d take unbuckling your seatbelt at every “quick” run into the gas station, fumbling with sippy cups and wipes, having to spend hours in the dressing room, and not being able to wear a two-piece swimsuit, over never knowing what it’s like to hold you when you cry, hear you when you laugh, and feel your little legs propped up on mine to rest.
They say “it’s all worth it” and honestly, I just hope you grow up to feel the same way. I’m not a perfect mom but I do and will love you with my whole heart, for my whole life!
It used to look a lot different than this . . . and I’m so glad that it doesn’t anymore.
This post originally appeared on the author’s Facebook page
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