Oh my gosh, last week. LAST WEEK. When I took my belly photo on Wednesday morning, I had absolutely no idea what kind of day I was going to have. I figured I’d go to my midwife appointment and then lunch with Wes’s parents and that would be that.
Well, I did go to my prenatal appointment, where my midwife revealed that she still STILL wasn’t confident that Little Girl was head down. Between her and my other midwife’s uncertainty, Wes and I decided to heed their recommendation and schedule an ultrasound for later that afternoon.
After lunch, I headed to my ultrasound certain it was a waste of time and money. Ha ha, the joke was on me!
Baby Girl most certainly WAS breech. Breech breech breech. I saw her perfect fingers covering her chubby cheeks, and her fat little toes kicking up near her face, and felt my entire world shift on its axis.
This changed everything. EVERYTHING! I knew it was probably too late for an external cephalic version (where a doctor attempts to flip the baby head-down by moving her through your belly) to be effective, but I scheduled one for the next morning anyway. I wanted to make sure I did everything I could to prevent a c-section if it was in any way preventable.
And then I cried. I made a dozen phone calls on the way home and cried my way through most of them.
The next morning, Wes and I headed to my ECV bright and early. It was our very first visit to the Labor & Delivery ward and we were in jolly spirits. We had no idea what we were in for.
The ECV was painful. Excruciating, really. Horrible, horrible pain that was ultimately pointless because Little Girl would not be budged. After two attempts to flip her around, we all agreed there was no point putting me through a third attempt.
We went home. I scheduled a c-section for the next week. I cried some more.
I’ve been in complete, perfect shock for almost a week now. In the last few days I’ve started grieving the loss of the opportunity to bring my daughter into the world the way I’d planned, but I’m also trying to stay positive and see the upside to the whole situation.
My emotions are a huge, bubbling wreck and I alternate between excited and terrified on an hourly basis. I take comfort in my friends and family’s assurances that I’ll bounce back from my c-section faster than I would have thought possible. I take comfort in knowing that my Little Girl is going to be coming into the world safely courtesy of skilled hands.
But most of all I take comfort in knowing my daughter will be born July 5, after which I’ll never ever be pregnant again. This pregnancy has been way too exciting for my taste and I can’t wait to get my body back for good.
T-minus three days until I get to meet my daughter. I can’t wait.