Disappointment & Joy

On Tuesday, May 25, I found out at a prenatal visit that our little baby was breech. My doctor gave me two options: attempt an "external cephalic version" which would possibly turn our baby from the outside, or schedule a c-section. I broke down and cried in the doctor's office. Matt and I had spent months preparing for a natural, active birth because we both desperately wanted to avoid a c-section. Now it seemed as though the birth was out of our hands.

We went for a walk that evening, toward the Portage where the sun was setting over the canal. The trees were leafed out for summer and the sweet scent of lilacs followed us down the bike path. It was a gorgeous evening and we told each other that if God had made all this beauty just by speaking a few words, He could easily let our baby turn if that were His will. We prayed that it would be.

On Wednesday morning, my doctor and two nurses attempted the "version". I tried to shut out the pain, knowing this was the only way we could avoid a c-section. When they finally told us that the baby was refusing to budge, I started bawling. This wasn't the way I had hoped things would go.

Less than an hour later I was headed to the OR. Soon we heard the loud, throaty cries of our baby girl. I hadn't known what to expect and had been a little worried that I wouldn't feel "love at first sight" for my daughter. I was surprised to find tears of joy cascading down my cheeks at the sound of her cry.

I thought I would look back on the birth experience with disappointment, but our little girl had been "frank breech", or butt-down with her legs up by her head. She could never have entered this world without medical intervention. In the end, I am so glad to have my little Clare that the manner of birth seems trivial. God may not have answered our prayer for a natural birth, but He gave us a healthy baby girl and that's all that matters.