JUST KIDDING…and I got my first good look at my new lower abdomen. On the one hand, it’s not so bad. I’d imagined the scar being thicker and nastier, and it’s thin and tidy. On the other hand, there’s a huge scar in my lady region! At the moment there’s also an unattractive wodge of flesh over the incision. My RE tells me it’s fat that got disrupted and has settled there and will go away at some point. Soon would be nice. But most noticeable to my seamstress eyes is the fact that the line that goes from my navel to regions below is now off by a few degrees. (I believe this is called the linea nigra, and not everyone’s got one. So if you’re like what the fuck are you talking about, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. If you don’t have one now it may show up when you get pregnant. So just go ahead and get pregnant, ‘k?) In addition to looking weird, this also means the incision is not perfectly bisected, so it also looks crooked. As shown in Figure 1, which is not to scale, by the way.
Unlike after my lap, I’m not going to get all maudlin about this. Not YET, anyway. Things may look better in a few months. Who knows–it may even straighten out. But as much as I tell myself that this is a minuscule price to pay if I can manage to get pregnant, and that it’s only the beginning of the ruination of my fiiiiiine physique that would come along with motherhood, I can’t help but feel the same sense of erosion of self and, indeed, of self esteem, that’s been part of this whole fucking IF experience. I mean, why do I have to get scars in the pursuit of motherhood? Why does wanting a child result in my body becoming uglier and uglier?
I don’t expect you guys to have much sympathy for this bit of whining, particularly not Sarah, who’s been chopped and diced like a green chile. But this just seems like the antithesis of the romantic vision with which I started my journey. Why the fuck do some women get beautiful and glowing and radiant, while I get empty and…crooked?