I have a confession to make. For the past 8 1/2 months I've hated my c-section scar. To be truthful, it's not the scar I hate but more the visible reminder of what I missed with regards to Brandon's birth.
When it was announced that Brandon was in a breech position at 36 weeks and the only way he could be delivered was via c-section, I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I had been preparing for his birth my whole pregnancy. I had come to terms with labour and the pain it would bring. I felt ready. I had my doula, I had done my reading and I had gone to childbirth classes. I looked forward to holding him after delivery and getting that first family photo where mom looks exhausted and dad looks overwhelmed. It wasn't to be though. My baby arrived without contractions, without pushing and without me saying to Jamie "Honey, it's time".
Some people tell me I'm lucky. They tell me labour is no picnic and they aptly point out that my baby arrived in the world safe and sound. Of course I'm happy Brandon was delivered safely and my feelings regarding the c-section have no baring on that. For the past 8 1/2 months though, my c-section scar somehow made me feel like less of a mother. Almost like I studied all year for an exam but based on a technicality, I never wrote the final and passed my course anyways. I feel like I missed out on something defining, something monumental, something I can never get back.
Of all the play group moms I know, half of them had c-setions (isn't that crazy?) And even though it's a huge thing we have in common, we rarely discuss our scars or our c-section experiences.
I've often wondered about my scar. Is it larger than most scars? Is it healing normally? Does the colour it has become exist in a crayon box somewhere? By chance I came upon a website called "The Shape of a Mother". The site is dedicated to showing what a mother's body looks like. It's a forum for letting moms share their experiences and feelings about pregnancy, birth and motherhood. Last night I was browsing the site when one story captured my attention. The young mother had to have an emergency c-section. Her baby was in distress. As soon as her little girl was born, she was rushed to the NICU. It was determined that her baby had suffered multiple strokes while in labour. The little baby never left the NICU. Her mother stayed by her side for 29 days before she gave up her battle. The young mother wrote of the wonderful time they had together - short as it was. She described how blessed she was to hold her baby, dress her and sing her to sleep. She was there when her baby took her last breath and she wrote about how she looks forward to meeting her little girl in heaven some day. She also wrote about how hard it was to see her c-section scar. A daily reminder that she had had a baby yet there is no baby in her arms.
This story broke my heart and suddenly put everything into perspective. I feel like I see things clearly now. I hold my baby every day. I laugh with him, play with him, feed him and put him to sleep. I am the luckiest woman in the world. I now see my scar as a blessing. A means to an end where I couldn't be any happier or dream of anything more wonderful than Brandon.
No comments:
Post a Comment