I still miss being pregnant awfully, and definitely wish every day that his birth had been different.
When it hits me the hardest, funnily enough, is when I'm in my attachment parenting support group where everyone had amazing births and takes them so for granted. It's especially hard to hear comments like, "Well, the medical field makes it sound like having a healthy baby is enough, and you should be grateful for c-sections." I AM grateful for c-sections! Without the one I had, Peter and I both would have died. Having had to work so hard for our healthy baby, I do feel like it's enough that he's healthy - and he's so awesome, I wish that he'd had the birth he deserved. I think I wish that even more, now, seeing what an amazing person he is. It makes me so deeply sad when people say that it's not enough to have a healthy baby, like a healthy baby doesn't matter, especially after seeing amazing mommas who weren't as lucky as I was.
Another thing that really gets me is when people talk about their traumatic births, and then it turns out they were induced at 40 weeks. I hate it, because it makes me feel like an uncompassionate jerk, but I want so badly to tell them what true trauma is like - not being able to hold your baby, living in the ICU and then the NICU, and I know that I even had it easy in terms of NICU experiences!
I'm so grateful for this community of people who understand what these experiences were like, because I think you can't understand what it's like having a premature baby and being in the NICU until you've done it yourself. I try to focus on what I'm grateful for, and usually it works - my major crying fits are becoming more rare.
I remember reading somewhere that the process of mourning can be envisioned as shell shaped. You start out at the center of it, in the middle of your grief, and then you move along the track. At first, you come back to the grieving point more often, since the circle is smaller. As you get further towards the edges, you come to it much less often - but you still have to come back to it, sometimes. Having that helps me some days when I'm really hurting a lot, and looking at my beautiful, healthy baby boy laughing is the best balm of all.