I was hyperventilating earlier in the shower because I saw myself in the mirror. The stretchmarks have not only spread below my tummy but also was forming faint lines in some other areas. I’m pretty sure I immediately grabbed the stretchmark oil bottle and poured the remains onto them. Rub it in, rub it in, no mercy… I told myself.
Sigh… Pregnancy is an amazing thing, people tell me all the time. But it sure does change your body in ways you just don’t have control over. Don’t worry, I won’t show you pictures of my stretchmarks. I’d only torture my family members in that way. Oh and my confinement lady who told me she can help me remove these stretchmarks after birth. She is obviously my new best friend.
Dean keeps telling me he doesn’t mind them because they remind him that I am carrying his child. And apparently, I’m the only one who cares. Well obviously, it’s my body! I’m pretty sure he’d have a high-pitched squeal if he found even one stretchmark forming below his tummy.
“We can never go on romantic beach holidays anymore, you and I. I can’t wear a 2-piece, heck, I can’t even wear a 1-piece in front of you anymore!! I’ll be too embarrassed you’ll see these marks,” I wailed to Dean.
“Well, then we’ll just have to find you a 3-piece then…” Dean smiled, ruffling my hair playfully.
Is this dude even real?!
Asma’ totally gets me on this because she’s terrified of stretchmarks too! But she said something that changed it all.
“But on the bright side, you know those are stripes of pahala right? You’re giving birth to a real life. That’s huge!”
Wow… when she put it that way, all my worldly worries just melted.
“Hmm… stripes of pahala… I like that. That sounds chic.”
And so I counted them…
One…. Two…. Three…. Eleven…. Twenty….
May Allah swt give all pregnant women strength to endure whatever comes our way.