Last week Catherine and I sat on the couch, looking at her baby book. She saw the first picture (except for ultrasounds) which was ever taken of her. It is the traditional picture of a gowned doctor holding a naked, slimy baby up in the air. Underneath Catherine's naked body you can see in the picture some of my torso, opened for the c-section.
Catherine pointed to my torso and asked what that was. I said it was my tummy. She asked "How did they get me out of your tummy?" It is so precious when you just know her little mind is working!
I was really glad at this point that I had had a c-section. I think a vaginal delivery would have been much harder to explain to a five year old. Thinking honesty was the best policy, I said "Well, the doctors cut a big hole in my tummy and took you out. Then they sewed the hole back up."
Catherine looked at the picture of my torso again. She looked at my tummy. She put her hand on her own tummy. Then she looked at me and asked "Did it hurt, Mommy?"
Should I tell her the truth? That the doctors had stuck a needle in my spine and temporarily deadened my whole body? That I could barely move for the next few days? That I popped Percocet for two weeks?
I figured that would be too much information for her right now. Plus, I didn't want her to think she caused me any pain or feel guilty about being born. So, I said "It hurt a tiny little bit, sweetie. But it was totally worth it, because now I have you."
Catherine smiled at me, leaned her cheek against my arm and quietly said "Thank you, Mommy." How sweet is that? There are certain conversations I have with my children which I want to remember forever. This is one of them.