As the mother to a 16-month-old little girl who was born through my belly, how could an article titled, “C-section scars banished with welding torch” not grab my attention? I clicked on it and learned about a new medical device that utilizes plasma instead of stitches and staples to “weld” incisions together, minimizing C-section scarring. Technically, the BioWeld tool would leave mothers with the faintest line possible, but it won’t “banish” the mark, which typically stretches about eight inches wide, just over the bikini line.
Sensationalist headlines aside, this got me thinking about my C-section scar and what it means to me. And I came to the following conclusion: Even if there were a procedure that could erase my scar, I wouldn’t do it.
My C-section was a premeditated event: Baby decided to flip upside-down at 37 weeks and I opted not to attempt to turn her. And so I reaped the many benefits that come with a planned C: The night before, I worked out, leisurely got my nails painted and had a romantic, full-of-anticipation Italian dinner out with my husband. The morning of the procedure, we both woke up together, showered (also together – those were the days), picked up bagels and muffins for the nurses and met our families at the hospital. Our daughter was born at 2:48pm on a Tuesday and the first thing I saw as she miraculously appeared from behind the blue drape were these teeny tiny little feet. I remember laying there, slack-jawed and supine, amazed that a pint-sized human being had fit through an opening the length of my iPhone and was all of the sudden in the room with us.
My staples were removed a few days later and although my scar was numb for months, it didn’t give me too much trouble. At first, I disliked the way my abdominal skin hung over the top of the scar, and actually started to avert my eyes when disrobing. I massaged it for 10 minutes every night — just like my OB told me — even though I had a million things to do and started to resent it a little bit.
Gradually, though, the angry red line faded, the bulge dissipated and the numbness lessened. It no longer caught my eye when I saw myself in the mirror post-shower; it started to fade into the landscape of my body and just became a part of me, like my eyelashes or my belly button.
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