I almost cried when I saw some pregnant women at a toddler group this morning. Just a short time ago that was me. So hopeful and positive that I would get my VBAC. How I’d love to be back there and experience that hope again. Maybe there would be something I could do differently. Maybe not, but at least I would still have that tantalising possibly that I could have a vaginal birth. Now I know for certain that it will never happen.
I haven’t written my birth story yet. I think it’s something that I need to do to help me move on, but I just don’t feel ready quite yet. I’m going back to birth afterthoughts as that helped me so much after Little T’s birth.
I realised today that I can’t have any more children. For a while I was thinking that maybe in the future we might have another child (Mr Wonderfully Average says absolutely not!). I would so love to have tried for another VBAC. But now I know how hard it is with two children, I know that I probably couldn’t cope with a third (seeing as how I can’t cope with two at the moment).
But not only that. Say I didn’t get a VBAC next time either, I think another failed VBAC would well and truly break me. One failed VBAC is hard, and knowing that I’ll never have the opportunity to try again hurts so much, but how much worse would it be to experience that hope again, just to have it destroyed for a second time.
So that’s why I had to turn away and pretend to look at my phone earlier. I don’t know those women. I don’t know their stories. But I do know that I would give anything to have that hope back again.