I still have lots to say about birth. I read the blogs, I have friends, books, magazines :)
One I'd like to bring up is this idea of BELLY. We say our bellies, our pregnant bellies, our smooshy bellies, our stretch marked bellies, our scarred bellies. We think a thousand thoughts, have a thousand reactions, perhaps our own hands wandering to touch our own ---but it BUGS me, this idea of BELLY. Because when it comes to cesarean scars, unless you have had a vertical/"Classical" incision, is the typical scar on your belly at all? Mine isn't. Mine is nowhere remotely close to my stomach proper,( which at my height is a good foot or more up!) Mine isn't under my shirt, its somewhere else, somewhere that somehow isn't so cute or "ok" to access in those thoughtful moments--- its in my damn underwear. Bikini underwear. Ya ever heard of a Bikini Cut? That is crotch.
Crotch? Is that it, really? Coochie? PussyVaginaPrivates...linguistics theorem aside, seriously, its not my BELLY. Its way down there, and it is all jammed into layers of scar tissue, adhesions, loose skin, fat rolly chubs. Ouchie secret range, they SHAVE YOU range, and it is something I definitely classify as more of the fucked up stuff they don't tell you, lest you revolt and forgo reproduction and humping dudes all together? Hahaha...I don't know why they don't tell us anything. But even though I had my children starting out pretty young for nowadays, I am a very well read girl, and I seriously thought a c-section would involve some kind of straight line boo boo across the belly. B E L L Y. Not this. Its gross. Its stressful. When you feel like your contents will spill out onto the sidewalk like so many groceries out of your trunk, realizing that all those guts will come out of your ____??? is just so upsetting. Its undies and pads and secrets, girlie bleedy yucky secrets, secret pain, secret fear, secret knowledge that you really ARE weird, you really ARE broken, wrong, fucked up, so, so many little brown bottles of effexor and nice stretch denim holding you all together for the nice people to enjoy...but still.
I want to tell you that I am doing really ok. I am! But can I say that a day goes by that I dont think about birth, sections, babies? Not yet. Because I have this thing. This ouchy secret deep down thing. I sit down on the potty, and my sad little tummy pooch sits there on my legs. Just a little. And it hurts. Some. And my actual belly is kinda fat, kinda doughy, but its fine. Its not cut. Because they dont cut your belly.
They cut the baby out of mommy's upper vag, is anyone saying this to their kids?
Its not your belly. Its worse. That's all.