Last week I underwent an external version to try to turn Juliet from breech to head down. As I explained, it wasn't successful. That same night she did a lot of twisting and turning, and we were hoping that she had finished turning herself the rest of the way all on her own. I had my weekly OB/GYN appointment on Thursday, and the doctor I saw wasn't able to determine whether or not she was breech. Juliet likes to keep everyone guessing! Unfortunately, an ultrasound on Friday morning showed that she was indeed still breech. What a tremendous letdown.
I am now scheduled for a planned c-section this coming Monday morning. In six days (or less, if I happen to go into labor before then), Juliet will finally be here! I'm still attempting all the at-home methods to try to get her to turn, but I have mostly resigned myself to the fact that she's going to enter the world the exact opposite of how I was hoping. Some babies do turn last minute, but the percentage of babies that turn on their own after a failed external version is extremely low. I'm not holding out much hope.
I'm struggling with a mixture of bitterness and disappointment with the whole ordeal right now. Yes, a healthy baby is the most important thing. Yes, a c-section may not be the end of the world. No, not every pregnancy ends exactly how we want it to. Maybe it's just my hormones, but I am incredibly sick of hearing cliches such as these, even if they are meant to be encouraging and well-meaning. I get that people don't always know what to say, but implying that I don't want what's best for my baby or that I'm overreacting is incredibly offensive. I'm entitled to my feelings.
I think the biggest reason the idea of a c-section is so hard for me is because I set my sights on trying for an all-natural labor and delivery. I was induced and had an epidural with Evie, and it was the best thing for the both of us at the time. But since this is my last pregnancy, I really wanted to experience the whole process the way nature intended, without any medical interventions. Or at least give it my best effort. See what I was capable of. A c-section is the exact opposite of all of that. And that's a hard thing to accept, knowing I'll never have that experience to look back on.
However, I am trying to focus on the positive as much as possible, and trying not to let how Juliet enters the world completely taint the excitement of her birth. I can't wait to see who she looks like, how much she weighs, if she has any hair. I'm looking forward to that sweet baby smell, bonding during breastfeeding, seeing Evie as a big sister. After a journey that began almost two years ago, the light at the end of the tunnel is finally drawing near. I can't wait!