If only it was a cool lightning bolt shape...

One week postpartum and the most popular phrase out of my mouth (second only to "She is so dang CUTE!") has been "OW! My scar!" I know it's not technically a scar yet, but scar is much shorter and packs more punch than "c-section incision site." Whenever I say it, I feel like Harry Potter. I suppose that makes Dr. Singer (yeah, Singer like the sewing machine company) my personal Lord Voldemort since he's the one who gave me the scar.

I imagine that when my scar twinges, Dr. Singer is indulging in a restful nap. Perhaps he is enjoying a quiet evening at home, lounging in an easy chair with a glass of red wine and a good book. Or maybe he is out on the town, playing darts or going bowling with a bunch of his buddies. Whatever he is doing, it is not what I am doing... contemplating the timing issues involved with nursing while on painkillers.


It's okay though. When my scar hurts the most, I know that Dr. Singer is just angry that I have the one thing he can never have.


This dang cute baby.


PS- Want to see my scar? Taken today, at 1 week PP. Excuse the weird angle, I still have a bit of a pot belly.