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Battle Scars

This post is about the mental and physical struggles some go through from the scars they have. It is not intended to be compared to those who have true battle scars. Those who have the physical and mental scars from their time they spent serving our country. Those military, police officers, firefighters, medical personnel, and so many more who protect, save, and see so much trauma. I am truly thankful for those who work to protect our freedoms and lives; overseas and in our own cities, towns, and borders. With many family and friends who have fought for our country I truly believe there is no one more deserving of our respect and thanks than you; and there is nothing to compare to your sacrifice, or your mental and physical scars.


Scars tell us a story of our lives. The journey we have taken to get where we are today. Maybe its the scar that makes you look back and smile for the foolish things you did as a kid. Like jumping off of a roof and shattering your arm the week after you got a cast off the same arm for breaking it falling down the stairs. Maybe its the scar from a surgery you received when your appendix ruptured and had to be rushed to a hospital. Maybe its the little scars from the chicken pox when you look back  and see how good your Mom was and her unconditional love, even though she was running on zero sleep and probably zero patience. Maybe its the scars that run down your arm from that cat you loved so much, who was in your life for 18 years and is now gone.

Maybe its my scars that line my entire body from the amazing things that I call my children. Scars can be amazing stories of your life. I realize now that the stretch marks that I have can be a beautiful symbol of selflessness. An amazing miracle to be able to grow and nurture a child and bring them into the world.

Own it! Whatever your scars are from are stories of who you are.

At 5 Foot 1 inch I had BIG babies. One 9 pounds 7 ounces and one (a small one in my standard) 8 pounds 11 ounces. I have big babies, and I love that I have big babies. They are strong, healthy baby boys and they are beautiful. They both have come out and within a week are holding their heads up and with in two rolling. Those are STRONG boys. They are my gladiators. When I look at the scars that run up my body I realize what my body had to do to bring these amazing children into the world. It is a battle between my body and my mind. My mind may say my body is destroyed, scarred, lined, wrinkled... BUT! My body created not one but two miracles. Two lives who, one day, may change the world. Not everyone is able to do this. It is truly a blessing to be able to look at my scars, remember my past, and see the miracles God has allowed me to bring into this world. I am beautiful, no matter what I say.

Love Always,
Beautiful

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