On my husbands birthday, just a few weeks after we had met, I was hit by a drunk driver (ironically, I was being a DD that night). At a full stop, waiting to turn out of my now husbands neighborhood, the driver took the turn too fast, jumped the curb and t-boned the drivers side of my car. Big F-150 against my little Alero. I hit my head both on the window and the steering wheel, the drivers window and the front windshield both completely shattered, and I was knocked unconcense, completely covered in glass. I didn't come to till sometime at the hospital, and vaguely remember throwing up on a nurse while a team was picking out hundreds of shards of glass from my back. The left side of my upper back and shoulder was left looking like I had been attacked by a tiger and healed into a pethera of scars. I hated those scars, and had every intention of using the settlement money to get them fixed by a plastic surgeon. I had to let the scars heal before I could get anything done, and by the time I could fix them, I didn't really care about the scars anymore. They became a part of me, a part of my story. (And a good reminder to never drink and drive).
I remember when the doctor first was describing Fi's heart surgery to us. He talked about the scar. He addressed the subject with such concern... as if the scar, not the surgery, was going to be hard to cope with. Its a rather large scar, on a delicate place that could cause insecurity issues for a girl. And just like with her clubbed feet and Down syndrome diagnosis, I shallowly was scared of my daughter physically being different.
Fast forward to three months after Fiona was born, I meet Makenna. My girlfriends young niece who has been through a few heart surgeries. This girl is amazing. Such a character and such a heart ( both medically and metaphorically!) I know she has been a prayer warrior for Fiona, and her beautiful handmade card that she sent Fiona after her surgery still hangs on our fridge. She completely changed how I would feel when I look at my daughter's scar. Because every time I see that red, shiny line peeking above Fiona's shirt, I remember Makenna. And that they are "scar buddies". And for some reason, that makes me smile. I don't know why her saying that has stuck with me, but its a constant reminder how there's beauty even in a scar. I never try to hide her scar... I used to think I would. The scar is there, in almost every picture, and all I see is that perfect little heart that now beats so soft and smoothly. Its part of her, part of her story.
Here are some more beautiful pictures, taken by Sean Ocean in his studio. Fiona's 9 month pictures, strutting her cute self, scar and all, and Gavin and Breiden's 3 year pictures. Really, if I hadn't just put so much emphasise on her scar, I bet you wouldn't have even noticed it, cause her sweet face totally takes center stage.
My first borns, the two that first stole my heart and made me a momma. I am in awe of these handsome gentlemen we created. They are my daily dose of laughter and I pray they are never too old to snuggle with their mom. Love you, B&G
Even imperfection itself may have its ideal or perfect state. Thomas de Quince