January 8, 2021 - Day 4

Edit - I typed this on January 8th but apparently forgot to hit "publish".

Prompt: Every scar tells a story. Write the story of a scar you know well - yours or someone else's.

Response: I feel like I'm talking about Reagan's birth a lot so far in these posts but I guess it's because it's the most recent, big event and most exciting thing to happen in a while. I have the typical c-section scar.  It runs about 6 inches across my lower abdomen, right about where my pant's waistband hits (that was fun the first few weeks). It is red in color and slightly raised. Peeling off the bandage a week after the surgery was a bit difficult because I still had a bit of the baby belly and couldn't fully see the area without looking in the mirror. 

This scar is both beautiful and ugly in it's own ways. Beautiful because it was how my gorgeous first babe entered this world, albeit not the way I had planned and prepped for. I was told a few weeks before that my breach baby was no longer break, hallelujah! After being contorted like an acrobat, butt down for most of the pregnancy, I was elated to hear she had moved to make for an easier, more natural birth. We were in the hospital not more than 2hrs before the rush decision was made to prepare for a c-section because infant, baby was butt first and labor was progressing too quickly to turn her. So my plan for a vaginal and possible natural (depending on paid tolerance) switch to a medicated c-section in a matter of minutes. So fast in fact, I barely had time to process what was going on until I was laying in the operating room waiting for the epidural to fully quick in. That's when the few tears slowly slipped down my face as I tried to discreetly turn away from as many eyes as possible. I was nervous, I was scared and I was disappointed to add this c-section to the ever-growing lists of pregnancy disappointments that had developed because of the pandemic.

Everything went smoothly during surgery and out came this wide-eyed beautiful blessing of a daughter. Recovery was a lot harder than I imagined, who knew just how much your abdominal muscles really worked in every day life. Getting up from the couch was difficult, holding baby was difficult at times and walking upstairs to my nice, comfy bed was just not going to happen the first week.

The scar is a reminder of her birth and the joy that being a mom brings but I would be lying if I didn't say there's a tiny part of me that wishes she had chosen to grace us with her presence a different way. But we are both healthy, happy and looking forward to hopefully experiencing a VBAC with her young sibling sometime in the future. (No we are not pregnant nor planning to be anytime soon).