My pregnancy with my second son had been pretty uneventful, and by the time I went in for my 36 week scan I had decided I wanted a home birth. The low-lying placenta had resolved itself, the suspected big baby didn’t concern me so much, and the gestational diabetes test had come back negative. My care providers’ biggest concern was my history of retained placenta and PPH, but I had read a lot about that and figured that I could probably birth the placenta without issues this time. 

So when I went in for the follow up growth scan at 36 weeks I was feeling pretty good. The scan showed that the baby was no longer head down as he had been in the 32 week scan. He was now in a transverse lie, or more specifically oblique breech, so diagonal with his head up toward my ribs. This was not good. Transverse babies cannot be born vaginally, and I really did not want a C-section. 

The doctor did not recommend attempting an ECV, he thought the baby was likely to turn back. I pulled out all my old resources for turning a baby, since my first baby had also been sideways in the 3rd trimester. Time for all the witchcraft! The Spinning Babies manual, an ironing board to do the breech tilt, moxibustion, meditation. Baby was still comfortably sideways at 37 weeks. We scheduled an ECV for the end of the weekto try and turn the baby. More witchcraft: seven headstands a day, hold frozen peas to the baby’s head while rolling on a birth ball, add all the body work I could find: physiotherapy, osteopathy, acupuncture, Bowen therapy. Pulling out all the stops. 

My first son came at 37+6, so I was thinking that labor might start any day. What if he turns head down? Can we still have a home birth? (yes) What if he turns to breech: do they support vaginal delivery? What if he didn’t turn at all? Was there any other option besides C-section? Unclear…that seemed to be uncharted territory. 

After trying all of the things, and a failed ECV I had to seriously consider the possibility that my baby would just not turn no matter what anyone did. So, what now? If the 2nd ECV didn’t work, would that be all options exhausted? An unavoidable c-section? One conversation I’d had with an independent midwife was giving me pause, and a tiny shred of hope: she thought my baby would turn on his own DURING labor.  The doctors seemed concerned about cord prolapse, was it actually a viable option to labor with a sideways baby in the hope that the contractions would help him turn? 

Luckily I had a visit from the homebirth team, and I was able to ask all my questions.  I trusted the midwife to give me no-nonsense answers that respected birth physiology. We came up with a plan that if my waters hadn’t broken and as long as both the baby and I were doing well, it was probably fine for me to labor.

I felt grateful for that conversation, but I still felt very apprehensive. I wanted to trust my body and my baby, but trying for a physiological birth was feeling more and more like a hail mary. The endurance athlete in me was enticed by the challenge and the idea of doing something that apparently very few people had ever done… Plus, the scientist in me was curious if it would actually work. But this wasn’t an ironman event or a scientific experiment; it was the birth of my baby. 

I really didn’t want that C-section. I wanted the opportunity to birth my baby under my own power. My biggest fear for the c-section was that if didn’t go through labor, if someone else cut my baby out of me and handed him to me, he wouldn’t feel like mine and I might not be able to bond with him. And I think that is a very valid fear. 

I was facing increasing pressure to stay in hospital because of the risk of cord prolapse if my waters were to break. For my first birth, and for both of my mother’s births, waters breaking was the first sign of labor. After talking it over with my husband, my doula, my mom, and my journal, I decided that if the second ECV didn’t work, I would stay at the hospital and schedule a c-section. 

When it was time to go to hospital for the ECV with my bag packed ready to stay the week, I had my meditation ready to go, my birth comb in hand, my comfiest outfit on. Thinking expansive thoughts and willing my uterus to make the space needed to allow my baby to turn. He did not turn.

While waiting for a bed to become available my husband and I went for lunch and a walk on the forested path surrounding the hospital. We half-jokingly contemplated whether it was safer for my waters to break while at home (5 min drive from the hospital) or on this path (probably a 10 minute walk back to the ward). At some point I decided it was probably about time to listen to a podcast about c-section birth which my doula had sent. Then my room became available just as my family arrived to have dinner with me (so nice of them!). I quickly dropped my bag and went down to join them. 

After dinner I really wanted to do that forested walk again before being trapped in my hospital room for the foreseeable future. As we were about to leave for the walk, I realized I had just had two contractions in a row (I had been feeling slightly crampy the past couple days but nothing with any kind of pattern). I decided to start a timer on my phone but I didn’t mention it to my family because I wanted to go on that walk, goddammit! I think I realized at that point that I would be having my baby soon, but I don’t think I felt very strongly about it, not particularly excited, not particularly scared. I felt a bit like I was sliding down a slippery slope into labor, and I wanted to dig my heels in, buy myself just a little longer before descending fully and meeting my fate. I relished that walk. My son did too. He was running, full of joy, discovering tree rings with his grandparents, admiring his shadow in the setting sun. My husband, on the other hand, was a ball of stress and when I eventually told him I’d been having contractions about every 7 minutes, he immediately started looking for a shortcut back to the ward and trying to speed things along, but I resisted!

We said goodbye to my son and parents, found my room, and told a midwife that I was in labor and I’d like to continue my conversation with the doctor when she was available. I didn’t want to be lying on my back, all 4s felt better. Eventually the doctor arrived and I agreed to lie on my back and be monitored while talking to her. We discussed place of birth, another ECV (she was willing to try but didn’t think it would work), fetal monitoring (she wanted me on continuous monitoring for reasons I still don’t understand), and C-section options. I asked for time to think and she said she’d come back in half an hour. 

After about an hour of waiting for the doctor to return, I was vocalizing on my hands and knees during contractions. I texted my doula that I suspected I wouldn’t have a chance to labor much longer before my waters broke and we’d have to go to a c-section. When the doctor arrived, she was wearing her street clothes, about to head out for the night. “I see things seem to have progressed here”. She said if I wanted to try the ECV we should do it now. I texted my doula to please come to delivery suite. At that point it was a little after 11pm and that’s when I realized our sons would have the same birthday.

First was a vaginal exam to check my cervix before the ECV. I heard the doctor say: “six centimeters, fully effaced” with what sounded like incredulity. Apparently I was in established labor. The ECV was now too dangerous, and apparently I really didn’t want to progress to 10 cm and this was our window of opportunity to do a nice and relaxed c-section rather than an emergency one. I felt overwhelmed and said I wanted to wait for my doula to arrive. We have time.

In the meantime, she asked to take me through the c-section consent form. Between contractions, the Dr. read a list of risks, which I hardly comprehended because I WAS IN LABOR. During contractions I was leaning over the bed, vocalizing loudly and demanding counterpressure on my lower back. After each contraction, I raised my head to the doctor and she continued reciting. Eventually, we got to the end of the form and the doctor asked, are you ready to sign? I almost did, and then I stopped: wait, what does this mean? Is this the point of no return? Are you about to cart me away? No, we’re still waiting for my doula. I hired my doula to be my advocate, and that’s what I felt like I needed in that moment. Also I thought she might have some suggestions for positions I could try during contractions to give the baby more space. I wanted one more chance. 

At this point, the midwife offered to try a side-lying release. I was highly familiar with this manoeuvre as I’d been doing it daily as one of the many practices to try to turn my baby. I noticed something peculiar; the contractions were letting up, the opposite of what I expected. It was actually getting hard to identify when one ended and the next one started. I turned to my other side, and that’s when my doula, Bonnie, arrived. The doctor asked me if it was ok that she catch Bonnie up on the state of things. Yes please. I heard again that she saw this as the window of opportunity for a relaxed C-section. 

Bonnie came over to the bed and took over the role of holding my hip as I prepared for the final contraction in the side-lying release. She said lots of nice things to me, and the one that stood out was that no matter what happens now, this was his timing. I went into labor naturally. My baby decided he was ready to be born. I’m so glad she pointed this out, because up until that point, I hadn’t really been valuing the labor. It felt to me like a tease, a fake, and a bit of a waste. What was the point, if I was going to have a c-section?

When the next contraction came, so too did my waters, and I felt what I can only describe as a “thunk” inside. I felt deflated but at peace: it was c-section time. I announced “my waters broke” and immediately got on my back so the midwife could check for a cord, as planned. No cord, and the midwife said she could feel a bum. What? Couldn’t be. The Doctor scanned me to check the position… breech. He had turned. 

All I remember was putting my hands on my face and saying something like OH. MY. GOD. I’m back on my feet for another contraction. 'These might feel stronger now that your waters have broken', says Bonnie. Indeed. The doctor immediately, almost comically, starts reciting the risks of vaginal breech birth. We had already discussed it last week. We were doing this!

The order of everything else is a blur. Very soon I felt an urge to push, and asked for another VE to check if I was fully dilated. The doctor did it from behind me whilst i stood, which she said she’s not accustomed to. Bonnie was telling me to welcome the contractions and go with what my body is telling me. Soon after I started pushing I remembered I had made some pretty epic playlists, but it took a while to get the speaker working… “Can someone figure out the FUCKING music?!” Bonnie figured out the music. 

By this point I was also making a lot of noise during the contractions. Mostly screaming and swearing, during one contraction I just kept repeating OOOOKAAAY, OOOOKAAAY.  Leaning forward and bracing myself on the bed. At some point at the end of one contraction the doctor quipped “I bet that C-section is sounding pretty good right now”. Bonnie immediately interjected, “THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANTED, MARIDEL, AND YOU ARE DOING IT!”

Later, when I moaned “I can’t do this”, the doctor replied “You ARE doing it”. Thanks, Doc. 

Someone found a mat and I was grateful to go onto all 4s. I reached back to feel for my baby: I thought maybe I could put a finger up inside my vagina and feel something. I was surprised to feel something soft on the outside. “Those are the testicles” someone said. On the next contraction, he came out up to his knees. It was at that point that I suddenly had the thought and shouted “is someone recording this?!” Bonnie got my phone. It felt like ages before the next contraction.  I remember someone asking about the 3rd stage and Bonnie saying “physiological if possible” and I shouted “no injection!” I remember feeling a lot of pressure on my backside: it felt like someone was trying to push my baby back inside me, and I hated it and yelled for them to stop.

I remember having the thought, I need to get this baby out of me NOW! So when the next contraction came I pushed with all my might (no thoughts of breathing that baby out as I’d been preparing for) and he shot out like a cannon. I scooped him up and I remember someone saying he might be in shock, but I saw his eyes were open and said he’s fine, look. It did take him a little while to cry though, and a midwife came in to rub him with a towel until Bonnie shooed him away. I had to shoo away the lady who wanted to put a hat on him. Reject the hat. Babies don’t need hats. Let me kiss and smell my baby’s head please. 

And then we were left alone, which was lovely. I was very aware that I still needed to birth the placenta and I was still focused on that mission. Snuggle the baby, latch the baby. Listen to the music. Relax. Hi there, Felix! You’re here! How crazy is that? He cried quite a bit and I rocked him and rubbed his back. The cord was a bit awkward. At some point I pulled on the cord a bit. Soon after that is when the placenta was born, just 25 minutes after the baby. I felt elated. I had done it. We had done it. Still couldn’t believe it, just incredible