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Chicks dig scars, or at least that is what I have been told, but there are several reasons to embrace your c-section scar. For starters, there are only limited number of women who wear this badge. Your scar is an undeniable reminder of the most beautiful thing(s) you have ever created and it is a symbol representing great adventure and accomplishment. I view my scar to be the ultimate in womanly-ness; after all, only a woman can become a mom.
My scar is also a permanent reminder of the three children I was not supposed to be able to have. There are women around the world that try to have children for years; they suffer heart break and disappointment, paying outrageous amounts for fertility treatments or trying every home remedy and old wives’ tale they hear. These women suffer silently during baby showers and Mother’s Day. Some try to adopt, only to be rejected based on income restrictions or red tape, while others foster children only to have their hearts ripped out when that child is given back to abusive or neglecting birth parents. These women would rock that scar in a bikini given the opportunity.
I feel that everyone has an artist living inside, there is something each of us has created that we are proud of — a painting, a completely alphabetized pantry, or hydrangeas so blue they look purple. I have some DIY projects I am pretty proud of, but the most beautiful creations in my life got here via my C-section. When my job causes me to be away from my children, I wear a permanent reminder to the people I love most on this earth, my little masterpieces. I might tell my little one she is her daddy in pigtails, but there is nothing more wonderful to me than sitting up with her late at night and discussing important things like ladybug versus butterfly or why Mickey and Minnie aren’t married. My scar is a constant reminder of each conversation, every hug, kiss and giggle, a reminder that I get to wear every day.
My c-section scar also represents grand adventure. Sure, I have walked the Hindu Kush, kayaked world class whitewater,and swam with dolphins, but my heart has never raced as fast as the first time a toddler broke free from my hand in the mall parking lot. I have never had the same rush as the first time I didn’t have to hold the bicycle, or been more proud when tiny feet hit the stage for that first dance recital. Every day is a new adventure, even the most mundane things like grocery shopping are new and exciting. Life after a c-section is never boring, and I get to carry my souvenir around, right out front.
My c-section scar gives me mad bragging rights. Granted, it’s not often that people want to compare scars, but seriously, whole people came out of there; that’s pretty hard to top. I also have a killer story that culminates in my first (emergency) c-section. Ten weeks before my due date, I went into labor and was put on muscle relaxers to extend the “bake time,” causing me to have a 96-hour labor and this wicked cool scar.
C-sections are nothing new; children have come into the world this way since recorded history. According to the National Institute of Health, references appear in Greek, Roman, Hindu, Egyptian and Chinese folklore. In the earliest of times, a surgical birth was only performed if the mother was considered terminal, but the first written record of a successful, vital cesarean was in 15th century Switzerland. Shakespeare was even familiar with the procedure, noting that his hero in the tragedy Macbeth was “from his mother’s womb untimely ripp’d.” Today, almost a quarter of live births in the United States are via c-section, a trend that ebbs and raises with education and popular opinion.
>> Read more: A C-Section Mom Must Read
So rock your scar; you earned it.
For the moms out there who have opted for a v-birth or adoption, I have tons of love and I, at no time during this article, want to give any impression otherwise.