My Infant Just Turned One And I’m Struggling As I’m Celebrating
by Jessica Delfino
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A year ago, I had a baby. It’s still new and fresh, in some ways, but at the same time, feels 1000 miles (and at least a year) away. It was among the best and scariest days of my life. It was a heck of a lot less horrific than my first birth, the birth of my son. I want to add here, that, as scary as it was, he is among my all time favorite people, and if I had to, I’d get sliced up like deli meat again by a trained surgeon for him any day of the week.
My second child’s birth was less traumatic in almost every way. I was prepared for it. I knew what to expect. I had my go bag packed. I brought it with me and I used almost nothing that was in it. While I didn’t schedule it and I’d originally hoped for a VBAC, I was psyched; jazzed if you will, to have a second c-section. The doctor came in and spoke solemnly to me proceeding the birth. “Listen, there are some risks to having this procedure, including infection, death…” she said. My response was something like…