It bothers me sometimes. That scar. A little crooked, a little itchy. a little numb.
It scared me. I was ready for it (or so I thought), but the enormity of taking care of the biggest wound I’d ever had while subsequently keeping a baby alive was a lot. There were stitches that were going to just magically disappear. Really? How does that work exactly? What if they don’t? It was sore. Not so sore I couldn’t function, but a constant sore that reminded me that at any moment I could mess it up and end up with my guts all over my living room. Or so I imagined.
I love my scar.
It’s a crookedly smiling reminder that I am forever a mom. That I safely carried my little upside down and backwards baby to term, even if we had to go get her. It’s a tactile reminder that I’m strong, resilient, powerful, and that I can recover from whatever life throws my way. It’s a reminder that I can heal- that I can take care of myself.
It also reminds me that even though things may seem beyond repair, you can always work to improve your situation. I’ve decided that I want to work to reduce my scar as much as possible before I have another baby. I know it will never go away, and it might seem silly to try knowing the odds are pretty good it’ll be opened up again, but I want to.
There are a few things I’m doing to reduce the appearance of my scar. The first is realize that it’s never going away, I can only make it look and feel better. Scar tissue is like plywood. It’s very strong. The fibers that used to be all nicely lined up (like the tree trunk) are now stitched together every which way- bonded in a chaotic way that can hold from all directions, resistant to breaking but still able to bend. Each night I grab a little Beautycounter Daily Protective Balm out of my daughter’s diaper bag and massage my scar in all directions. I don’t mean gently rub, I mean I really get in there and tear it apart. I go from all angles and as deeply as I can stand. I pinch and pull, lift an separate.
Then I take a break. I gently massage to let the skin recover, add a few drops of Beautycounter Plumping Oil and call it a night.
Slowly but surely, my scar is smoothing out. It’s getting finer. It’s still there though- it’s still a defining mark of the moment I became a mom.
I’ll be honest- I struggle sometimes that I had a scheduled c-section. In a way, I feel I missed the connection to the other mothers who labored, even for a little bit. Then I look at my scar and realize we all have different stories- we all have different struggles and pain. I realize that the major surgery I underwent to bring my baby into the world in the best way for her was just as much as a commitment to physical pain as the moms who labored. We all had recovery time- we all battled through the initial pain adjusting to breastfeeding- we all endured the same sleepless nights.
We all have a moment that made us a mom. Mine just happens to be smiling up at me.
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