How could I tell people that I couldn't care less about how I gave birth? How could I tell them that this wasn't about me missing out on something, but my son? I couldn't even if they did understand; it wouldn't change the fact that this was the way it was going to be. The way that God wanted it. I still don't know why he put me through that; perhaps I never will but I know it was his plane.
So, on March first the Dr. scheduled me in to have a C-section in five days. Five days to prepare emotionally and physically for a completely opposite kind of birth. The nursery still had things to be done on it, the house was a mess, and I hadn't even begun to know what to pack in a hospital bag.
My son was due to arrive on March six and I felt like my whole world had been turned upside down and I was prepared for nothing. But, I knew that at the end of it all I would have my Darling Button and that one way or another God would provide as he has always done in our family. If nothing else, there was that.
Two days before March sixth we finished the nursery (all but a few more leaves on the painted tree, which, by the way, still needs to be done -.-); one day before the sixth my hospital bag was finally packed and ready to go. Things seemed to finally be falling into place.
It was all so strange, planning the arrival date, planning to see our Button. It made me anxious, nervous, and excited all at the same time. A part of me was so ready to see my son yet another part still help on the hope that within a day he would magically decide to turn and this would all be unnecessary and I could bring him into the world on his own time, in a healthier, better way. That entire night that hope and thought kept me awake more than any other. Though out the night I woke to the sudden urge to try “one more time" to turn him via inversion exercises. A part of me felt silly and desperate for clinging on to that desire even though it was the night before my C-section but another part of me knew that if I didn't try, even this late, then I would never forgive myself. I had to know I gave it my all; that I tried even at the very end and that it truly was not my fault.
The next morning at five o'clock, I rolled over and kissed Hubby on the check “we’re going to have our son today" I whispered. He rolled over, mound, and looked at the clock "we're going to have our son today" he repeated, looking back at me with a smile.
My C-section was scheduled for nine that morning but I was going to take it all in. I just had to get up right then and start my day. The day I would have my son. The day my life would change forever.
I got out of bed and took the longest shower I had taken in a long time, breathing in the steam deeply and assuming a mountain pose, relaxing myself, and thinking of my son before the long, long days ahead.