On Being Breech
Well this is tough…
My sweet, sensitive little breech babe hasn’t decided to turn. Our ECV last Friday was unsuccessful, as was everything else I tried since finding out a few weeks ago that he had turned breech. Baby Crosby likes for his head to be close to my heart. As precious as that is, it means big changes for my birth plan.
I knew for years that I wanted to birth at home, where I feel safe and relaxed, supported by a team of my choice. And I definitely knew I wanted to avoid a hospital, where I was sure I would experience the complete opposite: no privacy or autonomy, the discomfort of a strange, unfamiliar place, the unease of being poked and prodded by complete strangers during my most vulnerable moment. (I realize this is not everyone’s hospital experience, whether lived or imaginary. At the same time, it’s what I’ve always imaged it would mean for me.) And now I have to face it.
In Maine, CPMs (certified professional midwives) are not able to attend breech births at home due to licensing restrictions. There are also no OBs (that my midwives or I know of anyway) who attend breech vaginal deliveries in the hospital in Maine. The vast majority of Maine women who have a breech baby at full term (by the way, it’s 3-4 out of every 100 pregnancies) will be told they have no choice but to have a scheduled surgical birth (a cesarean section). For women who dream of letting their baby choose their own birthday, going into labor, and experiencing the many benefits of natural childbirth, this can feel devastating.
Birth givers should always have options, and the reality is that birthing people with a breech-presenting baby are rarely given the opportunity for informed choice. If you or someone you know is feeling forced into an unwanted surgical birth due to a breech presentation, take a look at this consent form and this statement from ACOG about patient rights and consent.
Thankfully my midwives have advocated for me and helped me find an OB in New Hampshire who attends vaginal breech deliveries. Although there are still a lot of unknowns, it feels good to have options. Still, my dream of having a home birth is becoming less and less likely by the minute, and I’m faced with having to navigate a new birth plan and a relationship with a new provider with only days (most likely) left in my pregnancy. The stress of this has been really, really hard.
I’ve been reluctant to share because I haven’t wanted to engage with the “as long as baby is healthy, nothing else matters” (actually, my birth experience DOES matter, to both me and my baby) and “God has a plan” (not helpful nor congruent with my ideas about God) crowd. Plus there’s the stress of feeling like I have to protect myself from others’ fear around breech birth (newsflash: it can be a safe way to be born, and there’s research to support it), and at-times misguided faith in medical interventions like cesarean section. (Yes, cesareans save lives! And I may ultimately need or choose one. They also are not risk-free, and in the US, they are significantly over utilized and can cause more harm than good.) I’ve even felt afraid to share because I’m worried that some folks who have rolled their eyes at my enjoyment of pregnancy and excitement about a home birth will be pleased that this is happening to me.
It just sucks. It sucks having a dream for the way my birth will go, and then having it change at the last moment. It sucks feeling like I have no good choices. It sucks feeling alone and not understood. It sucks knowing I could go into labor at any moment, and I have no idea what will happen or who will attend me. It sucks knowing we will be paying for a hospital birth on top of our home birth. It sucks spending the last weeks of my otherwise healthy, happy pregnancy stressed to the max, frantically trying everything to turn this baby, and navigating a birth landscape I never thought I’d traverse.
Still, there’s a chance our baby will decide to turn on his own. And there’s a chance that our final attempt at an ECV (external cephalic version) tomorrow will be successful. And maybe I can find some way to be at peace with a hospital birth, whether it be surgical or natural. I hope I can.
As difficult as this experience has been, it has given me some opportunity to process some of the pain I had been holding around my own birth (I too was a breech babe, and delivered via cesarean, to a mother who was given no choices around her birth experience). It also has given me greater insight into this sweet, sensitive little boy I’m carrying. Lastly, it’s helped me see just what kind of a mom I’ll be. For example, in the past weeks, I’ve had many well-intentioned folks suggest that all I need to do is simply speak to my baby and demand that he turn head-down. That instinctively felt wrong to me. I trust my baby has a good reason for the shape he’s taking. And the fact is that neither I nor my medical providers know exactly what is going on inside my womb. It’s his space, his home, and I’m not interested in chastising my baby for not occupying his space more conveniently.
Maybe it’s my training as a yoga teacher. I never would demand that my students take a particular shape simply because I would like it better. Instead I might respectfully and lovingly help my students move into a shape (with their consent) if it would serve them better. That’s the approach I’ve decided to take with this baby. I’m doing everything I can to make moving head down accessible to him, but at the end of the day, it’s his choice.
I did try talking to the baby and explaining the benefits of being born “at home,” and I realized something (or maybe he told me). I am this baby’s home. He doesn’t care one bit whether he emerges into this world in a birth tub in my living room, on an operating table, or anything in between. He just wants me and my beating heart. Despite my fears and worries, I can give him that.
At the very beginning of my pregnancy, before I even realized that I had conceived, I found myself transfixed on thoughts about The Void, The Great Mystery, and the physical space inside me that holds them both — my womb. The cyclical nature of fertility has carried me back to that energetic space where this pregnancy began. Creation is a dance with Mystery. The unfolding of life is beyond our complete understanding or control. Standing on this threshold of motherhood, I know how I’d like to show up. Not as one who is rigid and inflexible, but as one who is able to bend and sway in the dance of life. And if that means letting go of my dream birth plans in favor of something else entirely, so be it.
Thank you to those who have reached out with your kindness and well wishes. I am extra grateful for the few friends I have who took initiative to be with me and love me during this difficult time, without me having to ask. This was my first experience with feeling alone and scared in motherhood, and I realized that having someone do something for me without asking is such a gift. How many of us get told “let me know if you need anything!” and never respond, because we have no idea what we need, or asking is simply too much of a burden? Or worse, perhaps we do ask, and help never arrives. So if you didn’t bother asking, and did something anyway, thank you. I want to be that kind of friend myself.
Thank you so much for reading. I welcome your supportive comments! Please know that I am well informed at this point on all the ways to turn a breech baby, and do not need further advice!