I have a few friends who truly have had awful, traumatic births. Lots of pain and regret and feelings of inadequacy. I wouldn’t wish their experiences on anyone, but eventually their births did end with a healthy, happy baby. My “traumatic birth” didn’t. And while I wouldn’t call Amelia’s actual birth traumatic, I’m starting to realize that just like my friends’ births the events directly surrounding it have definitely impacted me for the rest of my life. I’ll never see newborn babies the same way I did before, and birth is an uneasy subject for me.
Hence, the innermost parts of me are frozen with fear for what the coming days will bring when I birth Owen into this world. And I’ve tried to suppress that fear for so long that it’s eating away at the good parts of me.
I think the human body is amazing. The ability my body has to create and birth children is incredible! But goodness, is it ever agonizing and painful and beautiful at the same time.
I’m figuring out a lot of things. That subconsciously I’ve been worried that when Owen gets here, he will replace all my newborn memories of Amelia. Or that I’ll compare them, that I’ll look at Owen and wish he were her. It’s really, really hard to admit this to myself because I already love this little boy so much. He means the world to me and is so loved already. It’s heartbreaking and confusing to me that deep down I would ever feel this way.
But is he just as scared to come to me? Are we scared to meet one another? Or am I the one pushing him away without realizing it? Is there room for both of their memories?
This grief and recovery process is a beast.