Would I Do It Again?

First: The House. It was...interesting. It needs a LOT of cosmetic work, but we'd be idiots not to snatch it up in a heartbeat, I think. So maybe we will. More on that later.

Second: I have been thinking. A lot of people have told me that my birth story with Lucy has made them terrified of giving birth. Well, my labor was not typical, and most people sail through it pretty easily. If you're afraid of giving birth, get an epidural. That can solve most of your issues. Yes, there are risks, but the pain is usually lessened. However, I don't think it was the pain that was the issue. Sure, labor is painful. But so is slamming your hand in a car door. :-)
Looking back, the worst part of labor was not being able to control my body and the course of events. I am a bit of a control freak, admittedly, and it was scary having so much going on in my body and not knowing when and how it would end. The pain was bad, but the mystery was worse.
People have asked me how I am doing with not having had a "natural" labor and delivery. Surprisingly, I am doing ok. Initially, I equated pushing my baby out with being a good mother. It was very important for me to complete the journey of creating a baby with the actual act of feeling her leave my body. To some degree, that's still important to me, and I mourn not being able to do it a little. When you have your heart set on something, it's sad when it doesn't work out. However, I decided that if I couldn't push her out, I would commit to breastfeeding 100% and be proud of Lucy and I when I saw it through and was her sole nourishment. The first few weeks were a nightmare at times, but seeing her little hands exploring around while she nurses, and seeing her sweet little face when she falls off in a milk coma make it well worth it.
And as for not having a "natural" delivery, I have a healthy and happy baby who is 100% real, so I guess every delivery is natural to some extent. I am sad that we didn't have that initial bonding right after she was born. It still makes me sad to think about it. But regardless of that, she won't ever know the difference, and my voice is still the one that stops her crying, and my body is still the one that snuggles her best. And I'm proud of my scar. It's visual proof that I love someone enough to cut myself open for them, and that's something to be proud of.
The day we were discharged, I swore Lucy was going to be an only child. Now, just 3 weeks later, I am naming her unborn siblings. I don't know how many children are in our future, and I don't know when we'll meet them, but I do know that the one we do have is just perfect, and was worth every second of those horrible 3 days. And she's starting to growl in her sleep, which means I have ten minutes to finish cleaning before it turns into a big bad roar.