Sunday, July 08, 2007

Dear Belly,

We have had a difficult relationship, starting very young. I didn't want to have a belly that showed, like my mother did, nearly always pregnant with a round belly.

I wanted to be thin, but not skinny like my Olive Oyle years. I wanted you flat, not round. I thought children would never take residence there, and when I did find an egg was fertilized, it took a while to hold on to one, after an ectopic pregnancy and two miscarriages. Those cramps were like menstrual cramps. You never let me forget there was a cervix and uterus inside that had been bruised by poking fingers, speculum and doctors.

I laugh at my middle-aged Venusian figure now - but when my pants are too tight or pantyhose bind me, it hurts. Why do I want to 'suck you in'?

When I get painful gas from being nervous you are speaking. When I get flatulence from eating wheat or food that doesn't agree with me, you speak. When I belch and burp you rumble out loud that you're not digesting something. I hardly ever consult you before ingesting coffee and spices or desserts that don't agree with you. I wonder why I don't listen to your wisdom?

The tightness in the solar plexus and diaphragm that doesn't let me breathe in singing or in yoga is related. The tension in my shoulders is all related to my gut feelings, emotions I feel bad about, or not supposed to feel feelings. Rising above was always my motto. Not grounded.

So Belly, I better begin paying attention now, because so much information can come from you.

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