I am in awe of the human body. We are comprised of beautiful, highly functional mechanics, capable of precise movement, fine artistry, and keen thought. Arguably, the most amazing feat of the human body is reproduction. How mind-blowing is it that two cells meet, join, and, after a series of chemical reactions develop, through countless divisions, into a child? And in nine months! The cells meant to be ears become ears. The cells designed to become a lung know what they need to do in order to fulfill that end. Every tiny vellus hair was meant to be. I say, I am in awe.
Having recently and successfully reproduced, I knew the unseen transformation of egg and sperm into child would boggle my mind, but what I didn't expect was the dramatic changes my body would experience after delivering my son. The long months spent watching my abdomen stretch to accommodate a growing fetus came abruptly to an end. In a few hours -- well, about 48 of them -- I found myself holding a little human on my lap, which was larger now that it no longer had what felt like an immense moon jutting out into it.
Like most women, I tend not to think about my uterus except when it is inconveniencing me with menstruation. In my postpartum weeks, however, I find myself quite amazed by this little organ. A fortress of muscle and ligaments, the uterus not only protects the growing fetus, but provides nourishment as well. Normally about the size of an apple, over the course of nine months the uterus grows up to 500 times larger and about 15 times heavier than before conception. Compare that apple to a watermelon, and you see a clearer picture. And if that weren't impressive enough, in 4-6 short weeks, it's massaged back to its original size thanks to often undetected contractions and cramps known as afterpains. The entire process is known as involution of the uterus.
Now, my maternity clothes no longer fit. In fact, breastfeeding has assisted in shrinking my waistline slimmer than my pre-pregnancy clothing will fit without a belt. I look at my four week old newborn, still fascinated that he emerged from my body, that he grew inside my now apple-sized uterus, and I can't wait to share with him the story of how he came to exist. Not in the "birds and bees" sense, but the science and the biology of the process. I won't forget to include mention of the incredible uterus that was his home for so many months. I wonder if he'll believe me?
