#102: It’s Not Just a Scar. It’s a Message from Your Body

Some scars heal on the skin before they ever heal in the body. Or the heart
— Karo, Tired Mum Fitness

You’ve done the physical healing. The wound is closed. The stitches are long gone.

And yet, something still doesn’t feel quite right.

Maybe your scar area is still numb — or oddly sensitive.

Maybe it feels like your belly resists when you stretch or twist.

Maybe there’s a subtle ache, tightness, or even a strange disconnect that you can’t quite explain.

You’re not imagining it. And more importantly — you’re not alone.

Because the C-section scar is more than a line across your abdomen.

For many women, it holds the unspoken story of birth, surgery, recovery — and the immense physiological shift of becoming a mother.

This isn’t just about skin. It’s about your fascia. Your nervous system. Your sense of safety. And your right to feel whole again.

Let’s look at what might really be going on — and why your scar might still be asking for your attention.

A Scar That Still Speaks

C-section is often described in medical notes as “routine.”

But for your body — and your nervous system — it’s anything but.

The procedure involves:

  • Surgical cutting through multiple layers of muscle, fascia, and tissue

  • Physical separation from your baby at birth

  • A sudden shift from a heightened state of labour to surgery and recovery

  • Anaesthesia, adrenaline, blood loss, and sometimes fear or confusion

Even if your birth was planned, supported, and “went well,” the body stores experiences.

And the scar becomes more than just a physical mark. It becomes part of your story.

In holistic healing, we understand that scars carry what’s known as tissue memory. This doesn’t mean trauma is stored like a movie on replay — but it does mean your nervous system and fascia remember where safety was lost… and where connection needs to be rebuilt.

Why the Scar Might Still Hurt (Or Feel Numb)

Many mums are surprised to learn that years after surgery, they still experience one or more of the following:

  • Numbness or hypersensitivity around the scar

  • Deep pulling or tightness when stretching, moving, or lying flat

  • Discomfort with touch or pressure

  • Emotional reactions (tears, avoidance, anger) when working near the scar

  • A general feeling of being disconnected from the belly or core

These are not signs that something went “wrong.” They are signs that the nervous system hasn’t finished processing the experience.

During surgery, the brain often “disconnects” from the area to protect you. This is helpful in the moment. But when that disconnection remains long-term, it can affect core function, posture, energy, and emotional wellbeing.

Scar tissue can also create fascial restrictions — where the layers of connective tissue no longer glide smoothly. These restrictions can limit mobility, compress nerves, and create discomfort even years later.

My Own Journey With This Work

For weeks after my C-section, I couldn’t look at my scar.

Not because it didn’t feel like mine — but because I didn’t want to be reminded.
Reminded of what happened.
Reminded of how powerless I felt.
Reminded of what I believed was my failure.

At the time, I couldn’t have explained it that clearly. I just couldn’t look.
I’d gone through 36 hours of induced contractions. And when the doctor told me I needed a C-section, I felt defeated. I had no strength left to fight. I now know that I’d entered a freeze state — a deep nervous system response that shuts everything down to help us survive.

Technically, both me and my daughter were “safe.”
But I didn’t feel safe. I felt shut down. Numb. Lost.

No one told me that this, too, was trauma.

It wasn’t until I read The Fourth Trimester by Kimberly Ann Johnson that things began to make sense.
That book helped me interpret my experience, put words to the strange disconnection I felt, and understand that trauma isn’t about what happens — it’s about how our body processes it.

It helped me realise that I hadn’t failed.
I had simply been overwhelmed.
And that recovery would mean reconnecting — not just physically, but emotionally and neurologically, too.

Eventually, I returned to the scar — not with force, but with softness.
With breath.
With the intention to listen, not fix.

And slowly, something shifted. The scar stopped feeling like a reminder of what went wrong.
It became a part of my healing story — one I now honour, not avoid.

If any of this resonates with you, I truly recommend The Fourth Trimester. It opened a door I didn’t know I needed.

Reconnection Begins With Awareness

You don’t have to revisit trauma or relive your birth experience to heal.

What matters most is giving your body a sense of safety and permission.

That can look like:

  • Gently placing your hand over your scar while breathing slowly

  • Noticing your reactions without judgement

  • Working with a trauma-informed or scar therapy-trained professional

  • Or simply allowing yourself to acknowledge: “This part of me still needs care.”

Scar work doesn’t have to be elaborate or painful. In fact, the most profound changes often come through the simplest, slowest approaches.

This is not about fixing the past. It’s about restoring communication now.

You’re Not Broken. You Just Haven’t Been Shown This Path

There’s no magic stretch or massage that will erase what you’ve been through.

But there is a way forward — one that honours the scar not as a flaw, but as a doorway back to yourself.

Because this isn’t just a story about the past. It’s a story about how you live in your body today.

You deserve to feel at home there.

And it starts with listening.

With love,

Karo