They call it the smiling scar
But when I lie in the bath and look down I don't see
My scar smiling back at me.
Instead, the edges of it's mean lipped mouth turn down.
An upside-down smile
That's twisted with disappointment and regret
And thoughts of what might have been.
I trace the crooked line, still sore,
And wonder if there will be a day
When this unhappy wound, that speaks to me of so much pain
Will speak only of your precious passage
Into this world.
And when that day comes I'll no longer see
My scar not smiling back at me
This poem was written 9 months after the birth of her son by caesarean. It was an emergency caesarean during the 2nd stage of labour which had been long, difficult and, at times traumatic. When she is feeling down she repeats it to herself and it cheers her up.