>I shared my birth story with the world a couple of years after Tiny was born. At that time I was still pretty bitter about it. After all, my beautiful, gentle, intervention free birth experience turned into a cold, sterile, surgical birth.
Yes, I had a C-Section.
Three years and three months post-partum and I am finally ok with it. I am more than ok. I honestly really don't care anymore.
You see, I still carried Tiny under my hearth for 41 weeks. I nourished her. I gave her life. I still BIRTHED her.
So she was pulled feet first from my belly. Big deal. She was still born. Tiny was healthy and safe. I was healthy and safe.
When I first started reading a lot of natural parenting blogs, I think I actually slid backwards insofar as embracing my birth experience. All these beautiful birth stories just solidified the fact that I had failed to give Tiny the birth I had envisioned for her.
But guess what? Now that I know Tiny, I know that the way she came into this world was exactly the way SHE WANTED to get here. Yes, I firmly believe that Tiny opted to come out of my belly. What Tiny wants, Tiny gets.
The important thing is that she got here.
There is so much talk about empowering mothers, encouraging them to give birth as our ancestors did. But while all of this support for natural birth is going on, there are a lot of women out there who are making informed birthing decisions but not getting the birth experience that they had desired. Dealing with the loss of a natural birth experience is difficult as a new mother. So we sort of push those feelings aside to concentrate on figuring the motherhood thing out.
But then those feelings resurface. And you know what? THAT is the time when a woman needs support! When we are feeling so low, so angry, so upset that we did not get the birth we so desperately wanted…that is when we need other mamas to say, “hey – no big deal. You are no less of a woman for anything you chose or that happened to you. You are still a mother.”
I feel so free these days. I no longer feel bogged down by what I did not get to experience. Instead, I throw myself fully into mothering the little girl in front of me. At the end of the day, she is what matters. Her birth story is just one small slice of her life. And it was still beautiful.
So here is what I would like to do. I would like to rewrite Tiny's birth story. It is simple. It is honest. It is real. So here it goes:
You came into this world feet first, emerging from my belly in the wee hours of the morning. I caught a brief glimpse of you but in that second, I felt a wave of love so crushing, so powerful and I knew that I had become a mother. Mommy. Your mommy.
I desperately wanted to feel you against my skin. I wanted to smell you. I wanted to hold you and never let go. I wanted to look into your eyes. I wanted to kiss you, snuggle you, and tell you how much I loved you already.
I did not get that chance for two hours. I was like a caged lion…waiting, watching with a sharp eye, growling, unable to get to you. I needed you and you needed me.
When we were finally united, time and space stood still. The world literally stopped as I looked into your deep brown eyes and prayed harder than I had ever prayed before. I prayed that God would guide you, protect you, and support me as I mothered you.
I had the most beautiful birth imaginable, because I gave birth to you. My heart. My love.