Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.
Source: blogs.parentcenter.babycenter.com
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.Evonne wrote an article for BabyCenter that really hit a nerve with readers. And with me.
In the article, Evonne discusses moms whose dream births died in the delivery room. She’s referring to women who wanted to deliver vaginally but ended up having c-sections; women who wanted natural births but winded up on medications, women who planned to have their babies at home but were rushed to the hospital. She’s talking about all women whose birth experiences were not what they expected or were traumatic.
Labor with my first child, Zoe, was not what I expected. I tried for about 18 to 20 hours to deliver vaginally. My 9-pound girl never budged down the birth canal, so I had a c-section. But I felt good about my birth experience. I healed remarkably fast, and I appreciated the extra time it bought me in the hospital. I even wrote here about how I was looking forward to delivering my second child, Ryan, by c-section.
I read that now and I feel like one big arrogant ass.
My birth experience with Ryan was disappointing, scary and left me feeling empty. What was supposed to be a 30-minute c-section took almost an hour because Ryan’s foot was wedged near my right rib cage. I remember the blah-gray tint in the room and shaking as a resident threw herself on top of me and grunted as she and another doctor tried to yank my boy out of me. Like I was some large animal being gutted.
After Ryan was born, I got to hold him briefly before he was whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). It was almost 24 hours before I got to see him again, which just ached more than I can describe. The longing felt intense and primal. Ryan stayed in the NICU for three days, and his health problems kept me on edge. All I wanted to do was hold him and hear that he would be OK.
In the end, Ryan went home a healthy, big boy; and I recovered quickly from my c-section. I feel selfish and silly for bemoaning my disappointing birth experience because both Ryan and I are healthy–and I know that is not the case for thousands of moms and their babies. What they wouldn’t give for my birth story.
It’s not like I wake up every day and feel bad about my birth experience with Ryan. Honestly, I hardly think about it now, six months later. I focus on the joy my boy brings me and how happy I am that he’s here and healthy. But my labor and delivery caused me the blues for a few months. And if I reflect on the experience, I can still feel the ache and disappointment. Those emotions are compounded with the realization that Ryan is my last child and that was my final birth experience.
How do you feel about your birth experience(s)? If you had a disappointing experience, how are you doing now?
* The gutted analogy is not mine; A few years ago, I heard Brooke Shields on Oprah compare her c-section to being gutted like a fish, and I have to say it is the most apt description of a c-section I’ve ever heard.
Photo of Ryan minutes after he was born.
Source: blogs.parentcenter.babycenter.com
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