Long overdue, I know, but here it is:

The Monday before Anastasia was born, my midwife measured me at 42 weeks. Since she was concerned about why I had suddenly jumped so much, she ordered an ultrasound for the next Thursday. Anastasia was still head down, engaged and everything. I remember waking up that Wednesday just knowing that she had flipped while I was sleeping. I ignored that nagging feeling because I wanted so badly to have a natural birth free of interventions.

Despite my hopefulness, the ultrasound proved otherwise. Baby had, in fact flipped breech and at 39 weeks, it was not hopeful that she would flip on her own. An hour later, I was checking into the hospital, hoping that an attempted aversion would work. I knew that my baby would be born that day, however. The aversion didn’t work (as I would find out later because Anastasia was wrapped up in her umbilical cord). Turns out, I was in labor anyway and evidently can’t feel contractions. The doctor told me she wasn’t comfortable with all that and scheduled me a cesarean for later the same day.

I was so scared. I was not remotely prepared for this experience. My dreams of a natural birth and catching my baby were gone. I still struggle with this. I hardly remember anything about her birth. It turns out it was a good thing she was born that day since she had passed her first meconium in utero and ran the risk of aspirating otherwise.



The time after surgery was freaking terrible. I ended up having way too many visitors at one time, having an anxiety attack because my baby was being passed around and was crying and I was still under the effects of the spinal block, throwing up in front of eight people, and kicking everyone out. The rest of the stay was pleasant. enough. I was so happy to be home and sleep in my own bed.

Thus far, things have been alright. My incision healed up and the scar is barely visible. I’m totally mobile again. Breastfeeding is superb (homegirl weighs ~12 pounds!). The surgeon thinks I’d be a good candidate for a VBAC, so there’s that next time around. PPD is real. Paired with Anastasia’s colic, every day is a mental challenge.

I love being a mother. Every day with my baby is the best day ever. ❤