I decided to take a bath tonight, and while I was soaking, I noticed my stretch marks. Luckily, they are few in number and small(ish) in size. I traced my finger over them and remembered back to the days when all I wanted was to be a mother. I guess in a way I'm back in that same boat, I want a baby so badly, but this time 'round I've got a (semi)baby to hug and kiss while I wait. It makes gratitude a bit easier. Anyhow, I was looking at those scars and thinking how much I love them. They are proof that I am a mother. And it got me thinking about the nail prints in the hands and feet of my Savior & how this calling to raise a child brings me so much closer to Him. Surely the love a parent has for their child is the closest thing to God's perfect love that we mortals can hope to have. Surely this love is leaving marks of motherhood on my heart.