There has been a lot of talk lately on the interwebs about child birth. A hate page was circulating with very hurtful things about Mothers and who has a right to be called that, who gave birth, and a whole bunch of other crazy statements. I won’t link to it, I don’t want to fuel the fire. When I read about this initially I thought nothing of it, some crazy group getting attention.
|All the proof I need that I am Mom enough|
I found myself getting angry, feeling “less then” the natural birth Mom’s. The ones that were strong enough to push a baby out. Even as I felt this way, I got angry with myself. Why am I letting these obviously mean spirited, misguided people get to me? Still I could not shake the feelings. I kept it to myself, had a pep talk to the inner me and moved on with my life. Taking care of the three kids I am apparently not Mom enough for. Tell that to them, they remind me quite often, all the time that my name is Mommy.
|Caleb and I getting acquainted|
|Nora and I after our experience.|
|The one who first called me Mom|
Less then 2 hours after I was out of recovery I was told to get up and do laps around the hospital hallways, pushing my sweet girl along the way. My husband told me to take it easy. How could I take it easy? I had a daughter to take care of. I needed to get back to normal, I yearned to be a Mommy and I was not letting a little thing like a surgery prevent me from being that. The recovery was brutal, but the most brutal part about it was my stubbornness and anger in that I had to do it. This was never the plan, I had to catch up.
|Right after my Gavin was born, a much calmer experience.|
In remembering those moments, my thoughts in that time. Looking at my c-section scar, my three healthy kids. I have nothing to prove, I have no reason to claim I earned it, I simply just did. I am not shaming any Mom who birthed her child naturally, a Mom with an epidural, one who delivered her baby in the back seat of a car, a Mom with a c-section (by choice or necessity), a Mom who married and gained a child, a Mom who adopted her child. We all have stories, hurtles, battle scars, and wounds to show and tell. All of us are Mom’s, and none of us should be apologetic of how we became one.