"Does anyone look back on one or more of your past birth experiences and regret something?"
YES!! I was depressed about my first birth for a long time. I had hired this sweet, mellow, motherly midwife for a homebirth, and she turned out to be a drill sargeant with little faith in me. I took castor oil, which made me severely ill, and was constantly at odds with the midwife about the "right" way to labor. She wanted me to do everything -- from movement, position, to making sounds -- different than how I wanted to do it. Her assistants were ineffectual at best and negative and intrusive at worst. She checked my dilation constantly, which didn't help my confidence or ability to relax, as it was so intrusive. She acted like I was making the painful out to be more painful that it was. She had me on my back pushing as hard as I could from the moment I hit 10 cm. I was so out of it from all this that I did not connect at all with my baby at first, and they took him away to do the cleaning up and measuring, etc. I had a terrible time breastfeeding and it took a long time for me to physically recover from the birth. There was more, but that's probably a good enough sample. It was awful. But, the baby was healthy and for that I am eternally grateful. Not to her, since everything she did undermined the normal hormonal process, but just in general. To my body, to God.
I have a big regret about my third birth too -- it was a planned unassisted birth and I didn't have the emotional support that I needed -- that was my fault, though, as I didn't express my needs to my husband. Aside from that, it was a good labor and birth. The only thing that went wrong was that my MIL showed up while I was in transition -- that really threw my concentration off. She had the sense to leave the room (I *wish* I had felt able to tell her to leave the house), but here's the worst part of it -- as soon as the baby was born, she came back into the room laughing and crying. Now, I love this woman dearly, but this was a HUGE intrusion, and I was severely depressed about it for several days afterward. This precious time between just me and my baby and my husband, focusing intently and only on each other, was lost. Forever. As soon as she came in the room, I became self-conscious and was no longer inside the birth. Her presence and noise demanded my attention and that I come out of it before I was ready to. It sounds like a small thing, but it wasn't. Sitting there with the baby just having come out, still connected to me from the inside, was private, intimate, and special thing. And gone the minute she walked in the room. Needless to say, no one will be allowed into the house this time.