Two days after I delivered my twin boys via C-section, I stepped out of my hospital gown and into the shower. I was afraid of what I would see when I saw myself post-babies. Would my scar be horrifically stitched? Would my skin be wrinkled and stretched? Would I look like the hallowed out thing I was?

I remember pulling my bandages off with care–holding my breath and hoping I wouldn’t see the poor quilt-like stitching I’d imagined. In truth, I couldn’t really see the incision. My stomach was still protruding passed my waist, and my incision was below that. I was grateful for my baby-less baby belly for the time being.

I stepped out to a fogged mirror, but when I was ready, I wiped it and looked at myself. I promised I wouldn’t hate what I saw looking back at me. I told myself how to be proud of what this body had done. And I was.

Not only had it endured a c-section after being in labor, it had also gone through 8 months of pregnancy and before that, hundreds of shots, patches, and pills filled with hormones. My body and I, we’d been to hell and back–and regardless of what it looked like, I was proud.

Women experience the most amazing process of conceiving, growing, birthing, and then sustaining life (amazing in how complex and intelligent the creation of life is, not necessarily in how it feels all the time…). But nothing can really prepare you for the extreme change that happens between carrying a baby (or babies) and then, not.

So, when I saw myself for the first time post-babies, I wasn’t disgusted, I wasn’t ashamed, I wasn’t upset–I simply felt that I was seeing a stranger. I wasn’t the version of myself I’d gotten used to over the past eight months, with a full, round belly that housed my boys. I wasn’t the bloated, hormone injected version of myself during IVF. And I also wasn’t the more-fit, college student that I was before that. I was someone entirely different. And it literally happened over night.

What did I see?

Well, initially, I was shocked because my scar was impeccable. Honestly, I had a fantastic doc who operated on me. Everyone who checked my incision after said that it looked like a plastic surgeon had done it, it was so clean. I had to agree.

After my swelling subsided, some of the more obvious wear became more visible. I had severe stretch marks on my breasts, stomach and hips. All of which became a brighter red postpartum. All of which I still have.

The first time I went shopping after the babies were born, I grabbed a handful of items, more than thrilled at the idea of not being in maternity clothes. But, I came home empty handed and teary-eyed .

Anthony was quick to comfort me and tell me how beautiful I was. But I realized it wasn’t that I didn’t feel beautiful. It’s wasn’t a matter of feeling attractive or unattractive. It’s that I felt like I don’t know this body–that I was a stranger to myself.

I mean, I’ve spent my whole life in one body, that truthfully hasn’t changed much since middle school. Like anyone, I’ve dealt with physical insecurities along with that, but even those insecurities were familiar.

All of the sudden, the comfortable, known place of my skin didn’t feel safe anymore–didn’t feel like me anymore.

I struggled for the first few months. I had lost my baby weight (very thankfully) but it was as if it had been reallocated elsewhere. Not only do new moms have to process all the physical changes that come with motherhood, many also take on the task of nursing or pumping which brings an entirely new meaning to having your body change.

Now, five months postpartum, I am still getting used to this new body. I haven’t adopted an insane workout regiment or crazy diet. I’ve trusted my body to adapt and it has continually exceeded my expectations.

God has made the human body so intelligent. It blows my mind every single day to think that this body, this old thing, is producing what my boys need not only to survive, but to develop their brains, grow their muscles, form their eating habits, and strengthen their bones. And I was born with the ability to do this!

While I still have days where I feel uncomfortable or frustrated with these physical changes, I look at my little ones and know that no matter what, this body gave me those boys and for that, I will always choose to love it.