A Birth Story – Part One

This post is part of a series on how to get ready for baby number two. It is longer than most posts here at EBIT, but I didn’t want to leave you hanging! 

One of my greatest character flaws is that I can be a know-it-all at times. Of course, I rarely realize this in the moment. I usually discover my folly when I later have to swallow choke down my arrogant words. Such was the case with AE’s birth almost three years ago.

We prepared for our desired natural childbirth with Bradley Method classes, but, due to our crazy schedules, we had four private sessions with the instructor. When she wanted to spend precious time during one of those sessions on a section called “Making the Most out of a Cesarean Birth,” I promptly put on my smarty pants.

“I will not be having a C-Section, so we can skip this section.”

She tried to be kind. “Well, c-sections are sometimes necessary, so you’ll want to be familiar with all the birth wishes you can still have if that happens.”

But, being the smart alec that I am, I continued to protest. “Not gonna happen. The women in my family pop babies out with no problem. If she’s breech, I know what to do to get her to turn. My acupuncturist will make sure I go into labor before an induction. I will not be having a cesarean.”

If you were a fly on the wall in that room, I’m sure you would have been laughing at the fate that surely awaited me.

A few days shy of 35 weeks, I found out AE was breech. I was concerned, but not defeated. I was confident we could get her to turn. I went to the chiropractor. I had acupuncture treatments. I laid upside down on an ironing board propped up on my couch while Derek shinned flashlights and talked into paper towel rolls, encouraging her to turn. My sweet hubby became an expert in moxibustion. I did every “spinning baby” maneuver recommended.

At around 36 and a half weeks, I was strolling through Target with my family when it happened. I calmly told my husband and sweet niece that I needed to go to the bathroom. When I got into the stall and confirmed my suspicions, I momentarily forgot I was in a public place and pulled out a truckers mouth. “Well, s**t,” I sighed rather loudly.

The woman at the sink must have been alarmed after seeing a very pregnant woman waddle into a stall and then utter expletives. “Are you okay in there?”

“Yes, I think my water just broke,” I told the perfect stranger.

“That’s wonderful! Do you need me to call anyone? What can I do?” She was so excited.

I was anything but. “No, I’m okay,” I said as I waddled to the sink. As I washed my hands, I looked in the mirror and uttered a desperate prayer. “Lord, if this was my water, please, oh please, let her be head down now.”

A couple of hours later we found out that not only did my water break, she was footling breech. There was no other option. I was headed for a c-section.

My OB was so kind. As she looked at the ultrasound screen, she reached for a box of tissue. “Go ahead and cry; let it all out. This isn’t the birth you planned, but in just a few hours, you are going to be holding your baby girl in your arms. Today is her birthday! Cry now so you’ll be ready to celebrate with her!”

I was still crying when my awesome doula arrived shortly thereafter. She hugged me, and then held my hand as she said. “Let’s talk about all the birth wishes you still get to have!”

While it was painful to choke down my arrogant words, I gulped down the refreshing chaser of the look of pure excitement that adorned my husband’s face, the encouragement and support of my doula and my own anticipation to meet my sweet girl.

Before long I was saying, “See you in the OR,” to the excited daddy I happily call my husband. And, telling my mom and doula that I would bring my daughter to meet them ASAP.

I used every one of my relaxation techniques during the cesarean. (I elected for an epidural instead of a spinal, which was a choice I would make again, but I felt quite a bit more than I expected.) Then, as “Midnight Train to Georgia” played on the OR radio, AE was born.

I cried a mix of happy tears to see her, healthy and safe, across the room in the basinet, and sad tears that she didn’t get to come straight to my arms. It seemed like forever that she was over there, away from us. I fell in love with Derek all over again as he ignored the crowd of medical professionals and called out across the room to our daughter. “We love you so much baby girl. Mommy and I are so happy you are here.”

Soon enough, we were taken to recovery where our very excited family couldn’t wait to meet our girl. After meeting everyone, my amazing doula helped us wake AE up (who was content to snooze away) and within minutes, she was latched on and nursing beautifully. As she nursed, I said a prayer of thanksgiving – I didn’t get the birth story I wanted, but I sure did get the baby girl my heart had been aching for!

So, did I learn anything from this experience? Tomorrow, I’ll be back to talk about how I’ve used AE’s birth story to prepare – physically and emotionally – for the birth of my son (which the doctor told me today could be any day now!).

Have you ever had to eat your words? Did your birth go exactly as planned? I love a good birth story – feel free to share a link to yours in the comments!