Warning: depressing post

(Before I get into any of this, let me preface it all by saying that none of what I'm about to write is eclipsing my love for Abby or my overall happiness. I'm not depressed or experiencing PPD or anything like that, so no one has to worry. :)

I was on BabyCenter.com and found a message board called "C-section support." It took me a minute to allow myself to check it out because I hadn't't yet let myself really analyze and process the turn of events that we experienced a week ago today. But I read some of the posts, and in doing so, I began to look more closely at Abby's birth and my c-section, and I finally figured out why it is I get all weepy (and not in a good way) whenever I think about that day.

I feel robbed.

I wanted so badly to have a natural birth. I wanted to be able to say that I'd had my baby naturally and loved every minute of it (which I had, up until the Pitocin kicked in). I wanted to videotape her little head coming out and Dan announcing the sex to everyone, and be able to go home and watch it all over and over again and relive that incredible miracle. But instead I had to lay there on a surgery table and do absolutely nothing while my baby was extracted rather than birthed into the world.

I don't blame myself for any of it; I did everything right that I was able to do. I don't feel guilty; a c/s was the only solution in the end. I just feel cheated out of one of those experiences that you only get one chance to have: the birth of my first child. I wasn't prepared for things to go that way--my pregnancy was so mellow and easy-going, comparatively speaking, I never imagined I wouldn't be able to have a natural birth. I wasn't prepared to experience two major events at the same time: birth and surgery. I wasn't expecting to have to deal with stitches and staples and eventually a major scar on my already stretch-mark-ravaged body. And having to deal with all those emotional things on top of the emotions that come with sleep-deprivation and the weighty responsibility of parenthood has really blindsided me.

So that's where I am right now. I'm sure these feelings will fade, especially the more time I spend contemplating just how amazing and beautiful Abby is. In the end, it doesn't matter how she came out; the important part is that she came out at all and is healthy.

And, speak of the devil, Her Highness has awakened (thank heavens--she was about to start her fifth hour of sleeping!) and looking for lunch. Guess that's my cue to exit...