**I posted this in April on Facebook, but also wanted to make sure I had a copy of it here.
April 16, 2012. Ten years ago today. Full repair of Tetrology of Fallot. Three weeks old.
Lia has never known her body without this scar. A daily reminder that she went through something. She doesn’t remember it, but she’s heard the stories. “Unzipped,” as we like to say, by a skilled surgeon with a scalpel. Placed on bypass once, twice, three times. Kept alive by ECMO, and then her sternum wired back together and chest stapled up not once, but twice. Handfuls of complications to follow. What do we have left of all that? Her scar.
It’s not perfect. It’s off center. It’s got texture, it curves and jags. It flows from thick to thin to thick again. You can still see the faint lines of staples.
But aren’t the places where we’ve been put back together sometimes the most beautiful? What seems like a tale of sorrow can be a tale of joy, a tale of hope!
For ten years now, this scar has reminded us of the past. Reminds us of what has been fixed. What has been overcome.
Pressure in today’s social media ridden world focuses so much on beauty and body image. I never want this scar to be a source of embarrassment or cause unease for her. Rather, a reminder of the trauma her tiny body endured, the second chance she was given. A chance to explain to others (because they have asked, and will continue to ask) that she has been repaired! You may not be surprised to learn that she and I have rehearsed possible responses to when someone asks.
Have you ever heard of Kintsugi? It’s the Japanese art of fixing broken pottery with gold, silver, or platinum. Or, deeper perhaps, a visual for embracing your flaws. Finding beauty in the imperfect.
Kintsugi: Imperfections in gold.
Lia: A thriving 10 year old, still here, thanks to her imperfections.
Enter, Linda Drish, friend and photographer. She has taken my senior photos, many Rosien family portraits, and even photographed our wedding. Inspired by the Gold Heart Series, I came to her with a vision, and she brought it to life. I showed up to her studio with gold paint and painted every millimeter of that scar, not even missing where her chest drain was slightly below it. Then Linda got behind her camera and did what Linda does best.
Showcasing those beautiful imperfections, life saving imperfections, Linda spent three hours with Lia and I that day celebrating ten years of life! We took scar photos, and of course we took dance photos. Lia lives for dance!
Do you live with scars? Maybe they’re physical, like Lia’s, or maybe they’re mental. Maybe they’re visible to the world, or maybe you keep them hidden. Whatever scars you may carry, I hope you are able to see the beauty in them. A sign that whatever tried to break you, didn’t.
Happy 10th Heartiversary, Lia. I can’t wait to see what you do with the next decade.
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