At times I cant believe that I got so attached to a way of birth... SO freaking attached to becoming a mother in a certain way...

I'm definately not blind... I know that I have a wonderful beautiful son... I just look at him in amazement all the time... saying things like "look how big he is" and then Robert gets annoyed because I make him look for the 10,000th time... lol.
Today I was pretty emotional.. I was sitting on the floor by the crib, feeding Arien his night time bottle after Robert and I had just done double duty he bathed him, while I gathered the necessary baby supplies, then we both got him lotioned, butt creamed, Diapered and dressed.. and I just became so overwhelmed with LOVE. I was holding my baby, looking up at his father... and I felt so grateful and whole.

Robert knelt down beside us and kissed Arien on his forehead and me on my lips and I started crying... I am so increadily lucky... SO lucky that sometimes I worry I'm too lucky, and what imagined terror lurks just around the corner to tear it all apart?

I've loved Robert for the longest time, and together we actually made a person... A whole new person... and he loves us. Its surreal sometimes.

Anyway... I went to the library today and picked up some books I'd reserved... I picked them up about noon today and I finished my first one about 15 minutes ago... Its titled "Breeder, Real - Life stories from the new generation of mothers"

One of the stories had a part that made me break down.
an excerpt
"I remembered the day my daughter was born, On that day, I labored in my living room. unlight streamed in through my lace curtains and fell upon my back as I lay, encircled in my husband's arms, completely consumed with the work at hand. On that day I found out what it meant to be a woman. I reached deep down inside myself for that last bit of strength.
I found it and offered it. I added that strength to the contraction that bore down with a will of its own. Then I realised that what I had offered - the sum of all I had offered in blood, sweat and tears - was not enough. So I reached deeper, into a place of myself that I had never been before: a reservoir so deep and still, a subterranean lake of strength.
This reservoir had remained hidden and untapped, but on that day, its waters moved through me. I was a vessel and from me poured life. "

I dont know if its something I can explain to anyone. I want to be that woman, I want to find that strength in myself...

I read that to Robert, as I lie on the couch, and he climbed up beside me, and I cried and cried I dont think Ive cried that hard in a long long time... this was the kind of crying where you fold in on yourself in a fetal position because the pain in you hurts so deep in your stomach... he was so sweet holding me the whole time, he asked if it was important that I experice that, and I nodded and he said "we can have more babies... we can have babies and babies until you have that experience"
we talked about how I was afraid... because I only ever want one more kid... and what if I cant birth her without another c-section, I would be so heartbroken... because now I have the possibility that I might feel what its like, but if I fail again, there is nothing else...
he told me that I dont have to have a baby come out of my vagina to be a good mom. and I laughed... and then cried some more.