Ice Pack on stomach, Ipod in underpants.

I had my 37 week appointment with my midwife today, and I was unpleasantly surprised to discover that at some point in the last two weeks, the Boy has turned breech. And, yes, where you read the phrase "unpleasantly surprised", feel free to substitute the word "devastated". Or "inconsolable". Or "completely and utterly discouraged, disheartened, frustrated, etc..." I have some thoughts on this situation, and it is a rare moment in my life when I feel like writing down my thoughts will be therapeutic and helpful to me (one of a couple reasons I'm not a keeper of journals, the first of course being my total laziness), so here goes.

First, I had a weird feeling about this happening. Not in the "I totally predicted it" sense, but for whatever reason, I don't remember giving the possibility of breech presentation a second thought with Rowan, whereas with this pregnancy, it would pop into my head every once in a while. This past week, I was having some strange back pain and general discomfort, slightly different than the uncomfortable Braxton Hicks contractions I've been having for the past, oh, 22 weeks or so. It lasted a few hours one day, and again, in the back of my head I thought, "Huh. That felt different. Almost like he completely changed positions." But I thought it would be crazy for that to happen, considering that he was head down less than a week prior at a midwife appointment. So, there you go. Mother's Intuition may exist in my body after all.

Second, I know many, many, many people would read this and be appalled that I am, in my own words, devastated at the prospect of having a c-section. I am certainly not anti-c-section, when they are medically necessary. And I realize that delivering a breech baby vaginally can be very risky, if for no other reason than the fact that basically no doctors/midwives are even trained to assist in those deliveries anymore. (Also, have you met Illinois? This state is not exactly "natural childbirth-friendly"; I wouldn't be shocked to hear that just attempting a vaginal breech delivery is punishable by death. And now I'll dismount my soapbox.) And I one hundred thousand billion percent agree that the biggest blessing of a pregnancy is a healthy baby. So I am already eternally grateful that #2 appears to be completely healthy, and that we have no reason to expect him to come out otherwise. But... I really, really, really love the labor experience. I don't mean to say that I love my kid any more than you do if you had an epidural, c-section, induction, etc. And I don't want to squeeze my babies out drug-free for bragging rights. (p.s. Somewhat related, if you want me to think you are kind of a turd, please feel free to utter the phrase, "They don't give out medals/gold stars for going natural" in my presence.) The fact is, despite some of the less pleasant aspects of it (Hi, Dr. B******i!!!) my labor with Rowan was one of the most awesome, spiritual, unifying experiences I've ever had with my husband, and one that I have been looking forward to having again since the moment I found out I was pregnant this time. I have even been hoping that my labor might last a little longer than last time, just so we could have a few more of those super intense hours of working together and supporting one another (okay, mostly him supporting me... okay, all him supporting me... whatever). What an awesome date night for us- to just get to hang out, generally uninterrupted, and work on bringing our sweet baby into the world? WAY better than Cheesecake Factory, in my opinion. (Also, I got a lot of back/calf/foot massages out of it last time.)

And, to be a total brat, I keep thinking to myself, "Why me??? I WANT to give birth. I WANT to deal with the discomforts of labor. Why can't the women who cringe at the sound of the word 'crowning' or who just want to do whatever Britney Spears does have all the breech babies? It's not like they even care about having the stupid surgery anyway!" It is very frustrating to prepare for something for months and feel like you have done all you can to make that something happen, then have it snatched away at the last minute through no fault of anyone. [Although we could spend hours talking about the way I am blaming myself for this. "I should have been alternating which hip I held Rowan on these past eight months so things would be more balanced, I should have eaten better/ worked out so I'd be in better shape in general, I should have tried to have better posture, I should not have freaked out at Rowan last week when he threw his cereal on the floor" (karma, that one), etc, etc, etc...]

So now begins the proactive waiting game. The plan is as follows:

1) Lots of techniques found on this website, done multiple times daily.
2) Encouraging Baby to move to the right position by putting cold where his head is and warmth/light/music where we want his head to be (yep, the crotch, people).
3) Appointments with a chiropractor certified in the Webster Technique, starting with my first tomorrow morning.
4) If those don't do the trick by next week, an external version, done by a doctor my midwife is contacting. (And, hopefully, one that doesn't result in any of the fantastic potential side effects that can lead to an immediate emergency c-section.)
5) Should actually be at the top of the list, but lots and lots and lots (and lots) of praying. Especially on the part of my wonderful family members, who have committed to having a special fast this Sunday on my/baby's behalf. And on my end of things, praying that Baby will turn and stay turned. Or, if not, that I will have peace about the fact that we will have done all we can to make this "right", even if none of it works, and that I will understand that sometimes it is okay for things to not go exactly as I want.

Sorry for the length. This has made me feel a little better, though, if that's any consolation for those of you who suffered through this verbal diarrhea. And now my husband is home from school, so I plan on going to our room and having a nice long cry in his arms. Almost as exhilarating as labor. :-)