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Secrets of Readability: Tips for Writing Your Best Content

Writing good content is not an option to remain relevant in the market. You have to write appealing stuff that will help you increase web presence and visibility online. This is the main focus of a…

For 2018, Make Finding the Right Activities for Your Kids Your New Year’s Resolution

New year, new you, new activities for your kids.  Is this is the year that Sam wants to learn to play the violin? Or Suzie wants to take up dancing? Or you need to find John a new lacrosse camp? It can be tough navigating all the options for classes, programs and camps.  In 2018, let other moms…


During my second pregnancy I wrote about my first birth experience and how the previous cesarean effected me. Writing these feelings down really helped me to deal with my fears of the upcoming birth (an attempted VBAC).

I hate my scar
I hate the pain when I work out
I hate that sometimes I have pain for no reason at all
I hate having fears that didn’t exist before
I hate that things I once enjoyed are terrifying now
I hate that my daughters first moments of life were filled with the cold and artificial.  She wasn’t birthed; she was taken. She didn’t warm herself against her mother heart; she was placed in a incubator. She didn’t drink for the first time from my breast; she drank man-engineered milk from a bottle
I hate that the first time I saw her was in a photograph
I hate that the first time I held her I was so drugged and tired that I fell asleep immediately, which made them take my own child from me so that I couldn’t drop her
I hate that our first night was spent separate
I hate that when I finally got her back after 14 hours of separation that it still wasn’t just the three of us
I hate that I resented my mother-in-law for having her in her arms when I came out the bathroom a couple hours after we got her back
I hate that I resented my Husband for letting her hold her when I asked for him not to let anyone touch her because I needed that time still
I hate that for a year I wanted to claw the eyes out of anyone who touched her because I was so jealous over her
I hate that I know I wouldn’t have been so protective if I had just been able to bond after birth
I hate that the year that followed her birth was dark and lonely
I hate the preoccupation with death that circulated my head through the night, the pit in my stomach when I was alone that seemed to grow deeper every day, and the anxiety attacks that I couldn’t explain
I hate that I couldn’t talk to anyone because I wouldn’t be able to hold the tears back if I really talked about it and I knew they would be able to understand why
I hate that the most hurtful comments came from Family that just didn’t know how to relate
I hate that I resented them for saying the wrong things
I hate that when I think about the birth of my daughter, I cry and that those tears are tears of pain, not joy
I hate that I no longer have the faith I used to in my body
I hate that I’m no longer confident in my abilities to birth a child
I hate that I have to fight to get a doctor to understand my side of the story and that they will never understand
I hate that I feel like I have no choices
I hate that I wish that this decision could be decided for me
I hate that being pregnant again means possibly going through it again
Visit my Blog about life as a SAHM and Wife at Caffeinated Cavegirl

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