So, I had my follow-up ultrasound yesterday afternoon. We were so sure the baby had turned. Cosette thought so, Dr. Heather thought so, I thought so. We were either wrong, or the baby turned back breech for the ultrasound.
So now I’m on the schedule for an external version on Friday. And I’m terrified. I hate medical procedures, even more so when they’re done on me, and when they carry risks like, oh, requiring an immediate C/S. Or sending me into labor or breaking the bag of waters requiring induction. Sigh.
This has also made the question of what to do with Wally somewhat troublesome. We’re supposed to be at Methodist at 7:15. Wally doesn’t usually wake up until 7:30 or later. Taking him to his cousin’s house in Ankeny means we need to leave the house before 6, and we run the risk that he wakes up with neither of his parents there, which he’s NEVER done. And particularly lately, he’s had a LOT of trouble being away from us, we think he’s nervous about the baby and senses upcoming changes. And then there’s the possibility that it won’t be for just a few hours, that it’ll actually be all day, if something happens. I’ve never left him with anyone other than family before. My in-laws are in St. Louis for the weekend. My sister has to work. My parents are, of course, not available. My aunt is just too far away.
But above everything is the overwhelming feeling of THIS IS NOT HOW THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE. I wasn’t supposed to have 7 or 8 ultrasounds this pregnancy. I wasn’t supposed to be worried about having premature labor in the hospital with a strange doctor. I wasn’t supposed to feel wholly unprepared for what I’m about to experience. This was supposed to be easy. I deserve a break, dammit.
I spent some time last night working on birth plans. Well, one birth plan, in the event that the procedure sends me into premature labor in the hospital, and one list of demands on which I am completely unbending in the event I have to have a C/S on Friday. And I’m not kidding about that. They can damn well do what I want and I’m prepared to throw a fit unlike any they’ve ever seen before if they won’t.
Everyone keeps reassuring me that babies sometimes turn even in labor. Well, that’s great. And I know that. And I’m not really worried about it. I’m not worried about delivering a breech. I’m not worried about the baby turning – it will or it won’t, and that’s really fine either way. Some babies just need to come out that way for whatever reason. I am worried (no, really, terrified) about Friday. And I’m worried about the details of a potential breech birth.
If the version doesn’t work, even though the baby could still turn, we have to start making decisions and the whole birth thing is all up in the air. And I can’t do that. I can’t do up in the air. Cosette won’t attend a breech homebirth, and she can’t attend a breech hospital birth, even if she would, which I get the impression she wouldn’t. If the baby turns between now and when I go into labor, then we’re fine at home, but unless I’m getting lots of ultrasounds, how will we know for sure? We won’t.
So then we start planning for a hospital birth. Mintzer said he’d consider attending a breech birth after we tried the version and discussed all of the risks involved in a vaginal breech birth. (yeah, how about the risks involved in a C/S, eh?) (and, by the way, I hate how he talks to me like I’m an idiot small child. I’ve probably done more reading about nearly every subject related to birth than 99% of the world’s population.)
So then that puts me in the position of having to do all sorts of mental gear-switching. The birth I’ve been mentally preparing for this whole time has been easy. Not that the birth itself was necessarily going to be easy, but preparing to have everyone do what I want without having to fight for it…that’s been easy. When we met with our doula, it was like, “well, same as last time, but at home and without having to argue with medical staff.” Everyone involved has BTDT. I felt confident, Randy was confident. Now suddenly, I have to prepare for a birth in a hospital that will be termed “risky” and with a doctor I barely know. And I’m more lacking in confidence about that than I was about Wally’s birth and I’d never done it before with him.
And let’s talk about Mintzer for a minute. Randy hates the man and I’m not too fond of him either. It’s not his fault. He’s a perfectly fine person. But consider that every time I’ve ever seen him, I’ve left crying. He’s never given us good news. Things ALWAYS go wrong with him. We joke that he’s bad juju for us, but I don’t think either of us is really joking. I mean, I know that my babies were already dead by the time we saw him, and I know this baby was already breech when I went in both times, but it’s hard not to see HIM as the common denominator here, you know? And I know that’s weighing on my subconscious. Randy reports that every time we drive by his office on the way to the grocery store, his blood pressure goes up a bit – he is physically bothered just by driving by the office.
What kind of energy is that to take into a birth?
So anyway, we’re back to laying upside down and moxi and ice and heat and all that crazy crap. The difference this week is that I no longer feel that it’s going to work. I think I’ve spent about 60% of my non-sleeping time since the ultrasound yesterday crying about it. I’m just so frustrated.
I hate to admit this, but yesterday I actually decided I didn’t want to have another baby any more. If this is what it’s going to be like, then forget it. (hey! I’m in transition!)
And it’s hard to sit here in this place and see all the amazing ways God’s already set things up for me. I got involved in ICAN and, while I’ve wondered exactly what I was doing there for all these years, I really need their support and the years of being surrounded by women also in favor of normal birth have bolstered my own convictions. Randy even mentioned that earlier this week. I have Cosette, who is a wonderful match for me. I didn’t choose an OB for this pregnancy, an OB who would surely have basically said “oh, breech. well, let’s schedule your surgery.”
Well, sorry for being a black pit of negativity. Thanks to everyone who’s offered support, visualizations, and head-down baby vibes. Keep it up.