Friday, March 18, 2011

Telling the Story

I've always liked my scars...they help to tell my story.
There is one on my knee, courtesy of my family dog (the aptly named "Milo the Biting Beagle").
There is the huge scrape on my upper thigh, from the sixth grade when my protractor escaped my book bag and left its mark...and thus began my lifelong hatred of mathematics.
And before now my biggest scar was on the back of my right leg, where my "beauty mark" suddenly turned into a big ugly mole and had to be removed immediately.
But now I have an four inch, off-center slash on my lower abdomen where Rip Harris came into the world.
A few people have made comments like, " I hate that you had to have a c-section", or "That scar must be a constant reminder".
And yes it is, one that I am thankful for...every time I touch that scar, I am reminded of my son.
That scar tells the biggest part of my story yet, the story of how I became a mother.

5 comments:

  1. sharing your thought, and your feeling.

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  2. Good post. I sometimes have wished that I had some kind of huge, noticeable scar so that everyone would be reminded of my son, of my loss because I was reminded of him and the circumstances every minute of every day.

    Sidenote, if you are a reader, I suggest the fictional book Little Bee. It's not at all about pregnancy but it is about two women and their scars and the significance of it. It's a powerful story and I related to it a lot (again, not about pregnancy or pregnancy loss) and it reminded me to be proud of my scars.

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  3. I love this! It is like your own little "Rip tattoo". As always, you have such a poignant way of describing things. Thanks for sharing!

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  4. I love that! The word "scar" can have such a negative connotation, but you make such a good point: that scar is beautiful because it means sweet Rip made his mark on you in every way. Glad you shared.

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  5. Your badge of courage, Anne. Beautiful for you to see it as you do.

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