The Path to Delivery

After the devastating news on Monday that my baby had flipped to a frank breech position the day or day after the EDD, I had to spend some time coming to terms with the fact that this birth experience was not going to be what I wanted. It was, in fact, culminating in one of my "worst case scenarios." I was absolutely petrified of a c-section. There were a lot of tears shed that evening while I processed my grief. I had a sleepless night, but by morning, I was able to make a certain amount of peace with it, and had come to the feeling that there was some reason I didn't know of that it had to happen that way. My general assumption, in that mental space, was that we would find something wrong with me, or something wrong with the baby.

For the next few days, I tried to prepare my mind and my body for a different birth experience, while holding out a small amount of hope that the baby might turn. We agreed on a plan that we would book the ECV (external cephalic version) and C/S (cesaerean section) for Friday at 3/3:30. If the baby could get back to transverse or partially head down, I would do the ECV and see if we could complete the rotation. If we were successful in turning the baby, doc would break my waters at that time. If not, into surgery we would go. If the baby did not turn sufficiently before Friday, or if my body went into labor before, I would consent to the C/S. My doc said he would not do ECV once I was in labor, as that would exponentially increase risk of harming the baby (broken bones) or myself (ruptured uterus). These are risks I wasn't willing to take either.

In the mean time, I tried LOTS of relaxation and visualization, and baby would move to a 3/4 position, but not anything further than that. I tried a chiropractor who did an adjustment and a Webster Technique release of the round ligaments. I tried some interesting, gravity defying positions. I scheduled a massage appointment, and a follow up appointment with the chiropractor for Thursday. Our second NST was scheduled for Thursday morning. By the time 9 am rolled around, I found myself in early labor: signs of dilation and effacement, and short (30-45 seconds) contractions approximately 7-15 minutes apart, but no consistent pattern. NST looked good, but ultrasound confirmed: the baby was remaining breech. Since I was now contracting, it seemed that my path forward was clear. We would not try the ECV since the contractions were so infrequent, the OB encouraged a day of relaxation and a nice dinner out. I was a little disappointed, I'd hoped he declare it the day and bump someone, just so I could get it over with. No such luck.

Instead, I canceled my appointments for massage and chiropractor, opted NOT to go back to work so that I could start preparing for a post-surgical recovery... and that meant buying some boy clothes, just in case, since we were set with girl clothes, but I wouldn't be likely to make it out shopping for boy clothes for a few weeks. We'd just leave the tags on and bring them back if it was a girl.

I spent a little time with Maia (who was having a great time with Nana and Grandpa). In the evening, we had dinner at Brann's with my folks, Ray's folks and the Pools in celebration of Father's Day. In the late evening, Effie and I went shopping for some boy clothes, and a dress or two for me to wear during recovery, allowing me to not have to put pants on over my scar. I re-packed my hospital bag, removing all the little helping aids to make labor more comfortable. I was not going to need them.

And then, to bed. My last night pregnant. My last night to dream about the path that was in front of me, and to make sense of it all while I slept.