First, let me just thank those of you that are still bothering to read this drivel, especially those of you that are bothering to click through and comment. I know how tedious a pregnant blogger's last few posts can be and mine are no exception. I really do appreciate your support. It does help to know you are all pulling for me and sending me your positive vibes.
I've met with my acupuncturist and had my first chiropractor appointment today. I'm doing everything I can to convince this baby that it needs to turn. I know ultimately that it is not up to me, that the baby will turn or that it won't. Period.
I've been trying to write a letter to the Sprout. I started it last week, when I started Oscar's letter. I can't seem to make anything come out. I want this baby to know it is loved and wanted and that we are waiting anxiously for it's arrival but it keeps coming out wrong, wrong, wrong. All I can think is "turn, baby, turn!"
I hate that this is how I will remember the last days of my pregnancy, how I'm filled with anxiety and fear and frustration. I am trying to accept that my home birth will likely not happen. Best case scenario, I'm probably going to end up with a vaginal breech delivery in a hospital. Worst case - an emergency C-section.
This week, I have to pack a bag for the hospital for me and the Sprout. I have to pre-register for my potential delivery. This may seem like par for the course to many of you, but it is a completely foreign experience to me. I didn't "go" anywhere to have Oscar and the idea of going somewhere to have the Sprout just feels wrong.
I have to write a birth plan. I always made fun of birth plans - you can't really PLAN a birth. And, you don't really need one at a home birth. A home birth is a birth plan - no IV, no constant fetal monitoring, no offers of medicinal pain relief, no pitocin, no hourly cervical checks, food and water at my request, no hospital gown ass exposure, no back delivery, no stirrups.
I am supposed to be able to do this, I've done it before, women do it every day. Having a baby is not an illness or a medical complication; it's part of life.
I feel like my body has failed me.