Battle Scar

I find myself absent-mindedly touching my C-section scar a lot these days. Maybe it's because the scar is still relatively new to my body. Or, perhaps it's because the incision, which got infected in the weeks after the surgery, took a really long time to heal, and so I still subconsciously worry about it. I really think, though, it's because I am self-conscious about the scar; actually, I really hate it. I hate that I have this permanent reminder of my inability to birth my baby naturally. I hate that while I'm still losing the last of the baby weight, I have a weird crease above my groin that my belly fat hangs over, like dough falling slowly over a ledge. I hate that when I touch the scar there's a weird numb sensation, which the doctor told me might remain forever.

I know, I know. I'm supposed to be proud of my battle scar. After all, four long days of labor with Bryony merits some sort of pride in having a physical reminder, right? But I'm not proud; I just feel butchered and sliced, like I consented to being a turkey on Thanksgiving Day.
Adam, however, has been excellent about my insecurities regarding the scar. He is sympathetic about everything that I went through and gives me all the hand-holding I need when I feel down about how things ended. He reinforces this by emphasizing that Bryony's and my safety might have been compromised if I hadn't had the surgery. While we'll never know if this is true (we were both doing just fine when I consented to the surgery), it still makes me feel a little better.

A few years ago, I read a quote by Angelina Jolie, where she referred to Brad Pitt and her post-pregnancy body: "I’m with a man who’s evolved enough to look at my body and see it as more beautiful because of the journey it has taken and what it has created. He genuinely sees it that way. So I genuinely feel sexier." I don't know if she had a Cesaerean section, but I would assume that not even Angelina Jolie's body looks the same after a pregnancy (especially after carrying twins!). I'm pretty sure that Adam appreciates my body more for the baby it has made, carried and delivered, and he certainly treats me as though I'm beautiful. So the issue is all mine. Evidently, while I have yet to achieve Angelina's mindset about how to view a post-partum (or post-Cesaerean) body, my Adam, surprisingly enough, is channeling Brad Pitt.

No wonder I love him so much.