memories.

I know I should just be happy that I got two happy, healthy children out of it... but I can't let it go. I have sporadic and irrational anger whenever I think about how my children came into this world. How my son's first moments were stolen from me; how my daughter's arrival was so clinical and disconnected; how I felt like a science experiment instead of a person; how I feel taken advantage of, and the gut drop I get knowing that I will likely never, ever get to know what my body and mind would be able to accomplish unrestrained by "science".

I know that its useless to get hung up on all of this. That at this point there is nothing I can do about it. But there it is. Tentacles of anger jabbed into my heart and brain, just tweaking the nerves until I can't shake the feelings away.

Every time I see someone say that surgical birth is "no big deal" or "a piece of cake" or recommend it to new mother's contemplating it, I have to bite my tongue so as to not let my anger flare out of control. I understand that this is my hang-up, and not their problem...Everyone has their own experience with it. I try to share my experience without going completely over the edge... it's not always easy.

I feel acid burn of jealousy whenever women share their stories of their perfectly uncomplicated births. I rage inside about it. Not so much at them, but at myself. For having a body that doesn't work, or a lack of courage to stand up for myself and my convictions. And the more I dwell, the more time passes that I can't let it go, the more my mind is filled with venom.

Should have, would have, could have... didn't.

Right now, for no particular reason whatsoever, the thought crept in. While my perfect, beautiful, healthy children sleep, I sit here unable to close my eyes without feeling cold steel and frustration. Memories of the actual moments (the ones that I can remember) leave me feeling heartbroken, sad, angry, frustrated, humiliated and dehumanized instead of joyful, proud, and warm.

Why can't I just let this go?