Unfortunately, I am sure it won't be the last time that I forget that my daughter is perfect just the way she is. Considering that she isn't even here yet, it was definitely the first time.
Casey and I spent the better part of Saturday at a pool in Littleton engaging in a variety of interesting strategies and positions as we attempted to get the baby to turn around. Yes, I am sure the other pool patrons thought we were crazy, particularly when I was doing handstands in the water, or when Casey was holding me down by the shoulders so that I could sit on the bottom of the pool.
None of these seemed to have any effect, though. Baby Girl is still sitting with her head up, looking out at the world.
After spending a fair amount of time on Sunday lying on my back on our ironing board, which was propped up so that my rear was above my head, I was feeling pretty defeated when it came to trying to get the baby turned.
I was afraid I might feel disappointed and resentful that her birth didn't go the way I had imagined. I was even feeling a little mad at myself for being unable to get her turned. Those are very much not the emotions with which I wish to welcome my baby.
Most of all, I was afraid.
What if, after waiting so long for this little girl, I don't recognize her? What if, as a result of having a C-section, she doesn't feel like my daughter? After all, mommies are supposed to have to labor (in the literal and mental sense of the word) in order to bring a baby into the world. If, after all these months, all I have to do is lie there on an operating table, will it still feel like I did my job as her mother?
I struggled with all of these questions all weekend long. I cried a lot, and I prayed for acceptance - which, upset as I was, seemed like a lost cause.
After many tears shed and a great deal of soul searching, I realized that I have been looking at it all wrong. I have considered the fact that she is flipped as a problem that needed to be solved.
It turns out... it's not. Because my baby is perfect just exactly the way she is. I am ashamed to say that I forgot that.
This whole time, I have had such peace about the thought of labor. My reasoning is a) I feel ready for it physically and mentally. I am actually excited for the prospect. More than that, though, I trust the baby, I trust God, and I trust myself.
Finding out the baby was breeched felt a little like being betrayed by all of the above parties.
I don't believe in coincidences. If she is sitting the way she is sitting, she is there for a reason. Her version of what is right and mine might not match up - isn't that the very reason parenting is difficult? - but part of being the mother is accepting who (or in this case, where) my child is.
I would still like her to change position. I still think that the natural path is the easiest one for both of us, and I will still do everything in my power to make that happen. If, though, at the end of the day, she chooses a different way, my baby is no less perfect, loved or wanted.
She is still my beautiful, amazing, blessing-child, regardless of whether she takes the path I would prefer.
And so I think that I have come to terms with the idea of having a C-section. It is not my ideal, but I will be brave, put myself aside and step up to do what is right for my daughter, because she is so worth it! I hope I can do a better job of remembering that fact!