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Mind Your Own T*ts
When Theo was born via caesarean, I felt like a failure. The terminology thrown around whilst I tried to “push” didn’t help. I was told I’d “failed to progress” in labour, and that I’d “failed” to push the half a centimetre of cervix back to allow Theo to be born (after almost twenty hours of labour, I’d dilated to nine and a half centimetres – so close yet so far from the birthing experience I’d envisioned). So, the distinct feeling of failure was instilled in me before I was even taken to theatre. Then came breastfeeding. Two hours after Theo was born, he was finally placed on my bare chest…