Okay. I'm vain. Not over-the-top, free of neurosis, damn-I-look-good vain, but a much more modest version in which I focus on (read: obsess) the parts of me that I like most and overlook the few that I don't. Or that's the plan, at least.
Anyhoo, one of my favorite body parts is my bellybutton. It's cute. Really. It has a little mole right next door, and I used to wear low-rise jeans and short shirts all the time to attract the male counterpart of the species (well, in college, I did). Plus, I used to be an athlete. A spriter and pole vaulter, to be more specific. I had abs of steel before that was even a phrase. I worked hard on my tummy and in the past few years - especially with all this pregnancy crap interrupting - I've just coasted on the good foundation I had built, crumbling as it is.
To illustrate my point, I've actually posted a picture of my own bellybutton. Told you I'm vain.
So I'm a wee bit distraught that my upcoming laproscopy is going to leave a scar in my pretty little bellybutton. Mind you, my husband expresses no interest in my bellybutton at all whatsoever. But I like it for me. And for the thought that on the rare ocassions I actually don a swimsuit, some stranger may actually think, gee, what a cute bellybutton.
Now, several women have assured me that my lap scar will be nearly invisible. I'm putting my faith in their words. But if they are wrong, we'll all have to bow our heads in a moment of silence to honor the bellybutton that is no more. Afterall, we're looking at the big picture here!
