It's raw

There is a place, on my body that holds my scar.

And just like motherhood, it is raw.

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It is damaged, it is bright, it is a constant reminder of mother, and motherhood, and a 35 year old body with a mortgage, and bills to pay, and laundry to do, and an agency to run, and two children.

It is a constant reminder of you and it is raw.


It is a reminder of our start, and how I got to rock you to sleep just by my movement, how for the smallest moment in time, it was just you and me.

It is a reminder of one door closing and the beginning of me sharing you with the world.

And it, like all of mother, is raw.

Raw love, passion, and fear. All of motherhood is raw.


There was a time when I could not look at my scar without anger of my body giving up. Anger of how I welcomed you into the world. Anger that I felt like I had given up. Anger in the pain, in the recovery, in the constant scar.

And now, because you too have asked me what it is, what it means, I look at it differently. I look at it like I do all of mothering, a reminder of how painful the process is, how many scars it leaves you with, but how in the end, it brought me to you, to all of us, to all of this.


Motherhood leaves you scarred, permanently scarred. And all of the raw emotions and scars of mother, they stay with you.

No matter when you let go of us, you have left me forever raw.


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