I always dreaded today. And tomorrow. Well I say always, I mean as of last year.
When it came to Harry's birth I knew what I wanted.
Labour as much as I could at home then go to hospital.
Birthing Pool.
Only gas and air for pain relief.
Skin to skin.
Breastfeeding.
Short stay.
Easy.
Except it didn't quite turn out like that.
This day is possibly worse than tomorrow because this is the day that things could have gone wrong.
It's this day that's visited during the majority of my flashbacks.
The vessel could have burst at any point in my pregnancy. From early on until 2 weeks past my due date, had I gone overdue.
What's worse about this day is that this was the day my body said "let's get this baby out! Woohoo!" And I pushed, and pushed and pushed.
I almost encouraged the vessel to burst.
Like playing chicken on a train track or Russian roulette.
It was the longest day of my life.
A whole 23 hours away from Charles.
Sometimes when I think back it's almost like it wasn't me.
It's like I'm watching someone else go through it and all I want to do is comfort her and tell her it will be ok.
I watch everything. Even being able to stand at the bottom of the bed and see Harry being born and being placed on her chest.
Then other times it is me. But the birth goes a different way.
It's so graphic sometimes that I can't switch off from it. I have to pull myself away.
No one asks about it anymore, except one friend. Everyone else assumes I'm over it.
When people don't ask you automatically think "well maybe I'm not welcome to talk about it", and you hold the feelings inside.
Today is my day to burst and not hold the feelings inside.
To not hide away.
I will let these feelings take over today. I will let them make me sad, maybe make me cry.
Because tomorrow is all about the positives.
The what if's are not welcome tomorrow, but today, it's all about them.
