My scar says I failed. That my body failed to nurture my first baby long enough. It says they had to take her from me early because my placenta had stopped nourishing her. Says I didn't give birth, that my first daughter's birth was something that happened to me, not something I did. It says that since I didn't do anything but lay on a OR table I have nothing to brag about when my friends tell stories of pushing, and their tolerance for pain. Like they went through a rite of passage I'll never get to experience. It also says I failed my second daughter by not having a VBAC. I was in labor 3 times, and had it stopped by medication twice because my OB wanted me to wait until my scheduled date for my repeat c-section. The 3rd time it didn't work and I was admitted to the hospital. I spent the night in a half-sleep contracting every 5 minutes until finally at 5:30 am my OB showed up to do my cesarean as planned. It's a daily reminder of my body's failures.
I don't touch my scar. If I did I wouldn't feel it anyway. After my first cesarean I was numb for a year in some places. I'd like to think that it makes me look strong. I wish when I saw or touched it I felt that it shows what I went through to get my babies here. But I don't see it as a mark of my strength, I see as a reminder of my weakness. Maybe someday I'll be able to join in those conversations other women have about their birth experiences and I feel proud of mine. I think it'll be a long time for me to get to that point though.