I have spent most of the evening crying.
For a long time the story I told myself around my first birth was largely positive. Waterbirth, no intervention, started my passion and career for birth work.
And I didn't speak about it much due to not wanting to offend.
But I still carry so much hurt from it. And this has been forcing itself to be processed over the last few weeks.
Not just the atmosphere or the words that were said, but how I was never given chance to bond in the first few hours. For no reason. Me and my son were treated as separate and when I eventually got him back I didn't recognise him. Since then feeling like he wasn't mine.
It is amazing how such deep wounds at a pivotal time have ripple effects into your life together. How important those mammalian instincts are at the very beginning. How delicately things need to be managed.
I'm allowing myself a good mourn and a cry today for always feeling not good enough.
