When I first saw this photo of myself holding Ellee after her birth I was appalled. I was disappointed and almost disgusted with the way I looked.
I had over stimulated my brain with images of birth and beautiful glowing Mothers, that I had an expectation of what I should’ve looked like.
Recently I saw a post on Instagram that had a mother done up in makeup and she was in the hospital, completely flawless after her medicated hospital birth. The caption included words that said, “Some women are just born to give birth.”
That fricken’ triggered me. It stung deep.
I reached the depths of my emotional pain when I experienced both of my ectopic pregnancies and tubal removals.
I reached to the end of the ethers when I pulled this soul to me with my successful IVF cycle in which I had only one embryo, one chance.
I called forth this human and demanded she come join me because I refused to go through this human experience without her here.
And then I decided to birth at home. It was hard! It was an insane amount of pain. It was hours of sleepless effort from many people including myself and my team, my husband, and everyone on the outside waiting for Ellee to come.
I’m pretty sure part of me died during those three days. Part of me that couldn’t come forth on the rest of that journey, the part of me that couldn’t take the pain checked out at some point not too far from the end. What remained was the warrior woman inside of me that would have fought to the death.
No, I did not need to have a homebirth. No, I absolutely did not need to suffer. But I chose to and I chose to stick it out. A part of me would not accept that not only could I not conceive naturally, but I wouldn’t be able to deliver naturally as well.
I was proving something to myself, to my husband, to my daughter, and to the world.
I WAS born to birth a baby and I would make sure I used every effort of my being to make sure that happened.
Today I can look at this photo and instead of disgust I can say, “Go you mama!” “You f*cking did it and you’re doing it every day.” Of course you looked like that, it was the fight of your life.
Image Credit: Bénédicte Lechrist