Then I took a look at the whole picture, and noticed what a little cutie Jack is.
Then I looked at his eyes. The adorable little apple of my eye has the same bags under his. Why is it that I can love everything about him, but dislike the same thing on me?
I'm over thinking like that, and am done doing it. My body grew and produced a delightful little cherub and birthed him without using medication. The LEAST I could do is give my body a break and celebrate it rather than constantly put it down.