How this lioness earned her Tiger stripes

While shopping in a local boutique downtown I overheard an elderly lady speaking with a young mother. A new mom tried on summer dresses with concerns of her stretch marks, sobbing about her recent childbirth and the effects it had on her body.  Her words of true compassion inspired me and touched me deeply.
The mother was holding her skin that was flapping over her clothes as the elderly lady spoke, “Don’t look at them as stretch marks, they are your tiger stripes. These tiger stripes will lead you to become a lioness for your cubs" Standing there I frantically searched for a pen and paper to write this down. I found receipt paper in my sweater pocket and held onto to it all day. This quote triggered me to reflect on my own pregnancies and the trail of tiger stripes that radiate from my pubic region to above my navel, my abdomen has been destroyed.
Discovering my tiger stripes (stretch marks) was an unforgettable shocking moment for a self-conscious vain person. I was a mere young naïve 20 year old expecting my first child. One afternoon while using my ex-husbands cousins bathroom I glanced across the room, there was a black plastic framed full length hanging mirror across from where the toilet sat. Curiously wondering to myself, who would want to look at themselves using the toilet?
As I stood up looking at myself in the mirror I noticed numerous dark wide purple grooves along my lower abdomen, gliding my fingers along them I sobbed silently. Thinking to myself, what are these? Where did they come from? Are they going to go away?
My ex-husbands cousins girlfriend, a woman I barely knew, heard me, knocked lightly on the door and entered the bathroom finding me sitting on the travertine floor holding my  pregnant belly. She sat down beside me and consoled me without words. Just a moment between two women, she was so sincere.  The remaining months of the pregnancy I began the ritual of using cocoa butter, smearing my belly  four times a day while watching these lines of stretched skin form indentations upon my skin deeper and wider,  my emotional state becoming more  depressed about the loss of the smooth beige skin that held  a perfect abdomen.
The birth of my first child disturbingly held in reserve the stretched skin hung with purple grooved stripes, causing a sickening feeling throughout my body. Months after birth consisted of exercising and eating well to get back to pre-pregnancy weight, thoughts of taking scissors to cut the skin off crossed my mind, consulting a plastic surgeon, anything to remove those disgusting trail marks along my abdomen.
A year passed and my weight was less than pre pregnancy but the claw like marks remained, revealing a change in the deep purple stripes to a pale white color, lighter than the surrounding skin attempting to blend with the youthful skin, yet visible enough to be seen in a bikini.  Being 21 years old with a kangaroo pouch of loose silky textured stretched skin and claw marks along the abdomen was harrowing. Holy hell I would think while ogling daily over the skin grabbing at it, squeezing at it, just praying they would vanish, become nonexistent. Tears wetting my eyes because they looked so repulsive to me.
My second pregnancy was different, the lasting stretch marks turned deep purple again but did not grow, and I continued the ritual of cocoa butter smeared on my belly alternating with Mederma to prevent new damage from occurring.  Yet my son did not leave me trail marks along my abdomen, instead I had the privilege to receive little pouches of stretched skin on my inner thighs with stretch marks along them and my outer thighs to my hips as a token of appreciation for creating a life.  My thighs became the first thing to say hello to each other in the morning, never separating, still to this day. No amount of running or weight training will remove these pouches. I was then 25 years old and knew what to expect, but still vain and depressed looking in the damn mirror. My husband at the time would say;
“Then dont look in the mirror, you are beautiful, what is the big deal? You have to stop this Nikki!”
I have to acknowledge him, because throughout all my pregnancies he never once had a negative word about my body. He always had a compliment to speak. He was always supportive of my body changes throughout the 14 years of marriage together, dating of 2 years , a total of 16 years with this man and I am so grateful for having a man like that.
My third pregnancy took the previous remaining damage (I would refer to it as) and just stretched it all out. I reached the heaviest in weight while carrying my second son.  After his birth I became disturbed with just the knowledge of the actuality of the battle scars I acquired throughout the years for childbirth, knowing they will by no means go away and wondering why they had to be there. What purpose did they serve?
I had endured years of struggling with creams and ointments. Trying any new product introduced to the market, spending any amount of money to see them disappear which all resulted in failed attempts. Speaking out loud to friends and family of how I will have them removed at one time and have my perfect body back by the time my 50’s came along.
Now my children are growing into young adults and I chose to seek the advice of a plastic surgeon to evaluate my kangaroo pouch, and stubborn belly fat with stretch marks and inner thigh pouches.  His response was no tummy tuck, but liposuction. A stainless steel suction tube inserted through holes in the abdomen, moving in and out sucking out fat cells, and the skin will then form back into place and retighten.  I explained to him liposuction was not a procedure I was comfortable with and inquired about other options, his rude reply still captures a gasp.
“You could be a holocaust victim and you will never lose that stomach area unless liposuction was done” he replied
For 20 years I have been self-conscious of these trails of lines, I see these disgusting scars, remains of bearing children.  For someone to caress my stomach or hold onto it I squirm away fast. Currently divorcing and back in the dating the game I am now more self-conscious of thinking, what man is going to see these and this belly of left over stretch tissue and find me desirable?
One man, a good friend of mine caressed my tummy one day and he said, “You bore children, do you know how hot that is?”
Now I see them in the mirror, walking around naked, in my bathing suit and  I have a sense of antipathy with acceptance finding its way in.  I bore children, I did, I made beautiful healthy children and all it cost me was my body being inflicted with stretch marks and floppy skin. When there are men who do understand and don’t care. They see me for me, a mother, a nurse, a real person, not a big stretch mark. I wish I could thank that elderly lady in the store. My tiger stripes that were formed at the young age of twenty were meant to shape and mold me to enter my forties as a lioness who has raised her cubs. These beautiful tiger stripes surrounded by stubborn fat are there to be rubbed to remember.  To remind me of the journey I had travelled and endured to give life to my proudest accomplishments I have achieved in my lifetime, my cubs.