I saw this image recently — and it made my breath catch in my throat.

Both because it is so _ _ _ _ _ _ (insert your own word) as it is lovely and delicate and vulnerable and … I don’t know, gruesome and frightening, all at the same time.

It conjures up a whole lot of emotions in me when I see it.  (clearly the child standing is not the newborn, and there might be a newborn or sibling who is not featured in this image)

It just thought it left an imprint on me … and not in a negative way.

My eyes kept wanting to relook at this image, and stare at it.  My brain kept processing this image and seeing different things.

I recall how mutilated I felt after my c-section (the third one).

I was really sore and it was winter.

I felt like I had gone ten rounds with someone large and powerful, and I had lost. I really was sore – but it was also because I was older, had two other kids to run after, and could not take the time to lie in bed and recover as you should from major surgery.

I recall being very anxious on the day that Isabelle was born.

I was sure something very bad was going to happen  – and I coped with it my ignoring I was about to have a baby.  Even on the way to the hospital I stalled and got Kennith to go to the mall so I could pick out breastfeeding bras.

I was so far into denial that a baby was about to come out of my body that it was rather disturbing.  But I compartementalise very well.  I have neat boxes for most things in my head (most days, this by the way is not one of those days.)

I am sure having my body all stiff from being panicked and anxious probably did not help, and only added to the discomfort.

This image this may or may not have been that – and as said, odds are it is photo-shopped quite heavily — but I recall how “ugly” I felt and how ugly the scar was/is.

But it isn’t is it?

I still have my scar – I have keloids so I scar quite badly and it looks pretty grim for about a year before it settles down and does not look all red and angry. (My c-section scar always looks like it is ‘infected’ for the first year as it really looks red and is sore and it just not a happy little line.)

It is a white indent now – I do prefer not to look at it though. I am not sure why.  I seldom look at it directly or in the mirror.  I never touch it.

But it really is a bit of a war wound — and I won.

Maybe one day I will not look at it in such a negative light.

I am curious how other moms view their scars from child-birth – which ever route you chose/or had to go through in the end, and what ever the outcome was and whether these scars affect the way we view our bodies.

Please note:  I apologise I cannot credit the image to the source.  It is not mine – I had it on my hard drive and have no idea where it originally was sources from.  I am not sure of the context of where this original image was used and whether it is heavily photoshopped. 

I apologise not being able to credit it back to the source or the photographer.