I have scars from the births of both my precious children.
My DD was born sleeping at 41 weeks and I carry a scar on my heart for failing her so terribly and not noticing in time that she'd stopped moving.Her's was a VB but was induced.
My DS left a scar on my belly by his arrival proving I am a failure at live VB. His scar is the one other people might see, yet the scar left by my DD death is deeper. I let him down by not being actually able to speak and demand skin to skin immediately. I let him down because I was so terrified of the c/s I literally could not speak. ( I am highly allergic to aneasthetic(sp)) I let him down because he did not enter the world in his own time as I wanted him induced so he wouldn't die like his sister.
My scars prove I do not make good choices about birth. I was offered induction with DD and held off. I rushed into induction with DS and ended up with another (slightly less traumatic) scar.
Typing this brings tears to my eyes.
I try not to look at the scar I can see but I do look at the many stretch marks on my body as beautiful brush strokes left by my children while they were safe inside me.