My Angel

Eighteen

Demi

Demi Lovato spotted out for the first time since birth of her child with husband.

Lovato, 27, was spotted out for the first time nearly a month after the birth of her second child with husband, Odell Beckham Jr. The couple were spotted carrying the baby's car seat into a doctor's office.

I internally cringed at every photo on the article. Why do I look worse than I did when I was pregnant? I made the mistake of heading onto Twitter and some of the comments made me feel physically nauseous. I locked my phone and lowered it onto the couch, trying to ignore the thoughts that were swimming around in my head. I can't do it. I bit down on my lip, glancing over at Olive's bassinet as tears blurred my vision. I can't do it to her. I moved my hands under my thighs and I leant forward, taking deep breaths as I tried to stop the voice in the back of my head from winning. I'm not going to do it to Olive. She doesn't deserve a mom like old me.

For the last week, I'd been struggling with my bulimia again. It was becoming harder to ignore the temptation to vomit everything I'd eaten, even though it wasn't much. I'd so far managed to hide my struggles from Odell. I don't need him to be worried about me when we have Olive to care for.

"Demi?" I recoiled instantly from his touch. "Baby?" I choked on a sob. Odell's arms wrapped instantly around me and I was pulled into his chest. He pressed his lips against the top of my head, his fingers lightly caressing along my spine. He just held me as I sobbed. I eventually managed to calm myself but I remained cuddled into his side. My eyes moved over to Olive's bassinet. "What happened, Demi?"

"Just..." I traced patterns on his chest as I stared down at the floor. "Some comments about my weight and that-that I still look pregnant. It's nothing, it's fine" I moved myself away from him and wiped at my cheeks.

"Demi, that isn't fine. None of it is fine" he combed his fingers through my hair. "You don't still look pregnant, Demi. Look at me" he cupped my chin in his hand and turned me to look at him. "Your body nurtured our baby for 9 months, our beautiful little Olive. Demi, I love your body, every fucking inch of it" I shook my head as I twiddled with my fingers.

"You-You haven't even seen it since I gave birth, so you don't even get to comment. It's nothing sexy, Odell. I'm fat. I'm..." he pushed himself to stand and held his hand out for me. My eyebrows scrunched together as I stared up at him.

"Come with me" I glanced over at Olive's bassinet. "She'll be fine, Angel. We're not going far" I slid my hand into his grip and pushed myself to stand. He led me into the downstairs bathroom and then pulled me to stand in front of the mirror. He slowly lifted my shirt up and he pushed my leggings down slightly. "I want you to tell me what you see" he stood behind me, his hands on my hips as he pressed a kiss to my neck.

"I see..." the first thing my eyes noticed was my stomach. "Stretch marks and extra fat" Odell traced his finger delicately along the most noticeable of my stretch marks. I applied cream throughout most of my pregnancy but it didn't entirely stop the stretch marks from forming on my lower stomach.

"These are beautiful and I know you don't think so and you don't see it now, but they are. These are like little scars that tell a story, the story of how our little Olive came into the world" my lips ever so slightly twitched at the corners as I bit down on my lip. "And these babies" I slapped his hand away that came up to caress my breasts. "I fucking love these" I rolled my eyes as his lips twitched into a smirk against my cheek.

"You're a man, of course you do" he released a soft laugh. I relaxed back into him, my hands sliding along his arms that were wrapped loosely around my waist.

"You've really been struggling with this, haven't you?"

"I'm sorry" he removed his arms from around me and then turned me to face him. He cupped my face in his hands and shook his head, leaning to kiss me.

"You don't need to be sorry, Angel. I love you. I love every inch of you. You're fucking gorgeous, Dem."

"I've let her down" he rapidly shook his head as he stroked a strand of hair behind my ear.

"You haven't let anyone down. You've struggled, Demi, that isn't your fault. When do you next have an appointment with your therapist?" he caressed my cheek with his thumb.

"I-I've booked one in for Thursday. I-I know that I need help" I glanced down at his hands. I began to play with his fingers. "I don't want to let Olive down anymore. I want to be a good mom to her" his lips twitched into a light smile.

"You are a good mom, Demi."

"Thank you" he lightly caressed my jaw.

"For what, Angel?"

"For everything. I-I wish I'd have spoken to you days ago. I'm sorry if I disappointed you. I didn't mean to" he lightly wiped away the tear that rolled down my cheek.

"You haven't disappointed me, Demi. Far from it. I'm so fucking proud of you, Baby" he pressed his lips to mine and I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers combing gently through his curls. His hands slid down my sides and I found myself deepening the kiss. I didn't want to shove him away, I wanted to feel his hands on my naked flesh. I wanted to feel him caressing every inch. "Mmm, 2 weeks" I pulled away from him with a roll of my eyes. I released a breath as I ran my fingers through my hair. "I love you so much" my lips twitched into a smile as I played with the hair around his ears.

"I love you too."

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