Often in life things do not go as we plan. God tests us and our faith in many ways that may seem unfair and sometimes we might never know why he puts us through those struggles; but at the end of the day, all we can do is grow from those experiences or live a life regretting those moments.
This is my birth story of my Darling Button.
My appointment for my ECV (external cephalic version) came and went with no avail. Button was still breech and I had just spent the day before trying to not get my hopes up but praying he would turn and trying everything under the sun to turn him without having to go to the doctors and get the ECV done. I had told myself that it was worth it, that the IV (which I had never had before) and medication that would make me feel like I just jumped off the Grand Canyon without a parachute, was all worth it if the procedure worked. That day, I got to the hospital praying one last time he would turn before I had the procedure done, just to avoid the whole thing. Well, he didn't and I went into the hospital room reminding myself that this was all for my son. I was doing this for all the numerous health benefits of a natural birth and how badly I wanted one for the both of us. How, after all, this couldn't possibly be worst then actually giving birth.
So, once I was lying down and medicated, the doctor came in, she then did an ultrasound and made sure... yep, still breached. I was devastated but couldn't help thinking 'at least there is this, at least the ECV might work and he will be turned and all will be well, I can handle this just as long as he turns'. She then proceeded to shove at my abdomen harder than anyone or anything had ever pressed on me in my life. I literally felt like I was being cut open and she was beating me up. It was horrible, yet, there was hope. Hope it would work and it would all be worth it in the end and hope that Button would turn.
Still breached. I began to lose hope but I was NOT giving up. I was going to be just as persistent and stubborn as this little boy until the end! The doctor stopped the version. "Are you okay to try again?” she asked. I had tears starting to run down my face, my legs were propped up and shaking from me trying to resist a fetal position. My hand was grasping Hubbies as hard as I could. I looked at him. He looks so concerned and I could see his question in his eyes, ‘do you want to stop’. “You can stop if you like", he said. I braced myself and took a deep breath "I want to try again" I replied. The doctor quickly continued to shove at my abdomen vigorously, pressing and pushing hard into my womb and onto my little baby. I cried and braced myself. I reached deep within myself to try and find a calmer place, praying to push through the pain and telling myself again and again 'it has to be better than birth. If I can do this, I can do anything'.
Finally, the doctor stopped, "I think I should stop" she said, "It’s hurting you too much and he hasn't even moved an inch".
Tears began flowing more rapidly as if I could hear the next thing coming out of her mouth. A C-section. The only other option. Everything I wanted in a birth, gone. She started to tell me how unsafe it would be to try a natural breech birth and how I was doing the right thing to have a C-section. How it was alright to be upset and feel like I've lost something. All I could think about was all the things I wanted for my son. The birth I wanted for him, not me. I thought 'how ridiculous it is that she would feel bad for me and not my son'. I wouldn't be able to have a delayed cord clamping, he wouldn't get immediate skin-to-skin contact or breastfeeding, he would be earlier than his natural timer, he would be brought into this world in a startling, scary way and there was nothing I could do about it. 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?