Nurture {a story of breasts}

Over the last 36 weeks, I have watched as my body has gone through its amazing journey of transformation. I have watched in awe as my belly has swollen to accommodate the growing child within it, watched as the vertical line which divides my belly into two equal halves has grown darker and darker, watched as the skin on my neck has developed tiny skin tags and finally, watched as my once non-existent breasts have grown into two mounds of impressive proportions.

However, once I got over the initial excitement of being able to sport a killer cleavage for the second time ever in my life (the first time being when I was pregnant with my daughter over four years ago) I began to view my breasts in quite a different light, a light tinged with a kind of quiet respect.

Here was a part of my body created not to attract nor to serve as mere pleasure domes to the opposite sex ( as the media oftentimes tends to portray them) rather this was a part of my body whose purpose was now, 30+ years on, being revealed.

I have watched you grow
With the coming of my child
Your purpose revealed

The true purpose of my breasts is housed within them – they are the vessels through which I will nurture my new baby, giving him or her rich, nutrient filled, truly organic milk which will be baby’s nourishment for the first six months of its life.

A suckling baby
Nurtured by its mothers breasts
Rests contentedly

Isn’t that just such an amazing thought?

It is to me.