My Saffron
My worst fear was to have a breech baby. It’s a ridiculous thing. There are plenty of other things to worry about when you are pregnant and giving birth. Things that would have a much greater impact on your baby and your pregnancy. But for me, breech was a very dirty word.
I am one of four girls. I’m the eldest. I was breech and delivered by caesarean in 1982. My sister was also breech, again delivered by caesarean in 1983. My two youngest sisters were both perfectly positioned head-downers, but my mum went on to have two more routine caesareans.
Until I was pregnant myself for the first time in 2010, I hadn’t thought much about it. But as soon as I saw those two striped lines, I knew how I wanted my babies to arrive. And it wasn’t in the operating theatre and it wasn’t upright. It was head first, out the appropriate path.
My first pregnancy and birth went without a hitch at a birth centre in 2010. I was all about the optimal positioning throughout my pregnancy. I never reclined, I sat on a ball from however many weeks, I did prenatal yoga and I walked and walked. I read books and meditated and fell completely and utterly in love with my baby. She was head down and engaged at 32 weeks and remained that way until she was born at 41+1.
In 2012 I became pregnant for the second time. I went about my pregnancy the same way I did the first: yoga, walking, optimal positioning, and so on. This time we planned to have our baby at home. This decision took us a while to come around to, and although I felt it was the right thing to do, I did have some nerves mainly around the idea of doing something differently that never left me.
At 29 weeks I had an appointment with my midwife. I had been feeling unsettled. I remember saying to her as she felt my baby: the baby is breech, isn’t it? She smiled and nodded, but said she wouldn’t have even mentioned it to me at such an early stage and made me agree not to worry about it. I smiled and agreed. I waited until she had been gone for around 20 minutes before I jumped on the internet, googling breech, turning breech, flipping breech, anything and everything BREECH.
Operation Flip-The-Baby
From this point onwards I just wanted the baby to turn. I wanted it so badly! I tried to relax and to trust my baby was doing what he/she needed to. I tried not to think about it. But each and every morning I would wake up and touch my growing belly. Each and every morning I felt a beautifully rounded head nestled up around my ribs. The baby would wriggle around and kick away happily. It felt so different from my first pregnancy, where I was constantly trying to push tiny feet out from under my ribs. Saffron’s little kicks were all down low. She was very comfortable!
I tried so many things to get her to turn. I went swimming and walking. I continued with yoga. I had a lot of acupuncture from 32 weeks and did two rounds of moxibustion at home with my [very patient] partner. I had at least two chiro appointments each week. I held myself upside down from the couch and got into all sorts of knots. I did handstands in the pool. I followed every instruction on spinningbabies.com and did my exercises religiously.
Still, that beautiful head stayed put.
It was at this point, heading towards the 35 week mark that we started to do some more serious research. We decided that a breech birth at home was not for us. This is not to disregard anyone else’s choice as we are all for people making the choice that suits them. However we became very tangled at this point as it was widely known that our local hospital was not supportive of breech vaginal births. As our area is zoned we do not have the option of going to another public hospital. After having our first baby at the local birth centre, we took obstetrics off our health insurance meaning that we were looking at a hefty bill if we wanted to change route and go with a private obstetrician who would support us to give a vaginal breech birth a go.
I felt at such a loss. If we didn’t have our baby at home, and we couldn’t afford a private obstetrician, we had limited remaining options: plan to have an elective caesarean; wait to go into labour and see who was on shift at the hospital and play that wild card; go into labour and turn up at a hospital that is not our local and see what happened.
None of these options sounded particularly (if at all) appealing to me.
I found myself planning for an elective caesarean, thinking that if I couldn’t have a homebirth and bring my baby into the world in a calm manner, then an elective caesarean was surely better than going into labour and having to have an emergency caesarean upon arriving at hospital. I didn’t want to put that kind of stress on my baby, nor risk having a general anaesthetic, nor did I think I would be able to labour well knowing I had that chance ahead of me. Not exactly prime labouring ingredients.
I continued going along to my midwife appointments, feeling disheartened every time I thought maybe, just maybe the baby had turned, only to see the look on my midwife’s face before she would tell me as cheerily as possible that there was still a little bottom down near my pelvis.
I had an ultrasound at around 34 weeks to check that there wasn’t something blocking the baby’s movement, or something developmental going on preventing her from turning. Nothing. She was perfect. My uterus was perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect. I was very relieved. But there was still the question then, why?
I asked my baby why. Why? Was there some sort of lesson for me to learn? Did the baby not want to be born at home?
I couldn’t figure it out.
The End of the Road
My midwife gave me some information about an External Cephalic Version (ECV). It is a procedure by which a doctor manually turns your baby from the outside. It is usually done with the assistance of a relaxant medication administered via drip along with ultrasound monitoring.
We did a lot of research. I worried that the baby was breech for a reason – who was I to interfere and make her turn? Was it the right thing?
We weighed up the pros and cons. In my case, we had pretty much decided that if the baby remained breech we were going to have an elective caesarean. This was the best choice for us. Knowing this, we decided that an ECV was our last chance at giving our baby a more natural welcome into our world. If it didn’t work I agreed to accept that it was what our baby wanted.
At 36 weeks I went to hospital for the procedure. We sat, sweaty palmed, in a long corridor lined with chairs waiting for our turn. I tapped my foot and my husband placed a warm hand on my knee. We were the only ones there.
The atmosphere changed inside when we were greeted by an incredibly bright and cheery doctor with a mop of curly red hair. He was delighted when he heard it was our second baby and assured us that he has a 50/50 success rate with first babies but an 80% success rate with second time mums. I had been told on the phone that I would be required to have a drip, not to eat too much in the morning as I may be turned upside-down somewhat, and that the procedure could take about 20 minutes and would be painful slash uncomfortable. As I was going in at 36 weeks, I would be allowed to come back the following week to have it done all over again if it didn’t work. There were also a number of risk factors involved such as the baby going into stress, cord entanglement, and other things I could barely bring myself to think about.
The doctor placed his hands on my stomach and I immediately practiced my yoga breathing to relax – in for four and out for four, in for four and out for four. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. He commented that I felt very relaxed, so relaxed in fact that if it was ok with us he would not use the drip. Music to my ears! We agreed and he continued to feel the baby’s position. He started to apply more pressure – this gave me a shock as I knew the midwife was setting up some monitoring for me in the next room before they did the ECV. When I realised what was going on, my baby was already transverse across my stomach. He kept going and all of a sudden her head was down! The whole process took about 60 seconds. I was very anxious to hear her heartbeat, and by the look on the midwife’s face when she returned to the room only to be told the baby’s head was already down, I could see that what had just happened was not exactly protocol. The doctor said that as I was so relaxed, he felt comfortable to go ahead with the ECV at that time. He had the ultrasound there and kept checking as he went to ensure she did not get tangled in any way. He said he prefers to do ECV’s without the relaxant as it makes it harder for the baby to flip back afterwards.
Although I have heard since then that there was some discussion behind the scenes as to how this procedure was administered – I could not be happier with how it went. I was terrified of having the drip and do not like to be medicated unnecessarily. I did experience some discomfort, but it was fast and over before I knew it.
I firmly believe that the weeks of work I had done before this procedure - yoga and acupuncture and moxibustion and chiropractics – had an immense effect on the success of the ECV. According to my acupuncturist, there is also research to show that an ECV is more successful following moxibustion treatment.
I sat around for an hour after the ECV, being monitored and given glasses of cold water as our baby slept through the entire thing. They like to see the baby’s heart-rate when they are awake following an ECV to ensure everything continues to go smoothly. She eventually woke up and had a perfect heart-rate. After being fed biscuits and cups of tea by the midwives, we were free to go.
I was elated. Ecstatic. Over the MOON.
We went out for lunch and coffee and texted everyone we knew to say that it had worked and the baby was fine and I was fine and we were all fine, fine, fine.
For the next four weeks, I still continued to wake each morning and feel my rounded belly. I was still worried that my darling baby had other plans and would turn back.
She didn’t.
When I was 40 weeks and 4 days pregnant, I went into labour. I had around 20 hours of pre-labour and a lot of stop-start. Again, this was so different to my first labour, which was 13 hours from start to finish and once it began it was on.
I strongly believe it was me who caused the stop start labour this time around. I still feel really silly to admit to the amount of stress that having a baby in breech position caused me. I just couldn’t put it in perspective.
I now know that it wasn’t because she was breech alone. It was because I was afraid of going against the norm. I was afraid of what people said. About homebirth, about breech vaginal birth… I felt that no matter what path I took there would be someone saying that I was doing the wrong thing and for some reason I just couldn’t shake that nasty feeling.
I felt angry that I had such limited options – that the only people who could help me have a breech vaginal birth in a hospital were going to charge me the earth.
I felt furious that my baby was going to be born by caesarean because I couldn’t afford a vaginal birth in a hospital. It seemed (SEEMS) ludicrous! Who can’t afford to have their baby naturally? Surely the procedure of a caesarean costs a lot more money than me pushing my own baby out using the power of my body and my baby?
Why weren’t these people trained? I continually asked myself. What is wrong with this system? Why can’t my baby choose how she wants to arrive and me feel safe in knowing that someone would help me?
Yes. I could have birthed her at home if she was breech. Yes. My support team were very qualified to do this if I chose. It was me who did not feel comfortable with this – I wanted to go to hospital if she remained breech. That was my informed choice, my decision.
How crazy is it that I went on to discover I would be better supported by better trained and qualified professionals to deliver a breech baby at home than in a hospital?
Unfortunately, these are all questions that remain unanswered.
At 9pm the night our darling girl was born, my naturopath came over to my home and gave me a massage. She squirted flower essences in my mouth and at 10pm she told me to go to bed and try to get some rest. She said with any luck my baby would arrive the next morning. She went home laughing knowing full well that I would not be getting any sleep that night. She felt the openness in my hips and the readiness of my body. She eased my busy mind and left me feeling calm and full once again.
I went to bed as instructed. I was exhausted after having been up much of the night before. I lay down and instantly felt a strong contraction. It was at that point I knew I would not be getting any sleep either.
I am one of four girls. I’m the eldest. I was breech and delivered by caesarean in 1982. My sister was also breech, again delivered by caesarean in 1983. My two youngest sisters were both perfectly positioned head-downers, but my mum went on to have two more routine caesareans.
Until I was pregnant myself for the first time in 2010, I hadn’t thought much about it. But as soon as I saw those two striped lines, I knew how I wanted my babies to arrive. And it wasn’t in the operating theatre and it wasn’t upright. It was head first, out the appropriate path.
My first pregnancy and birth went without a hitch at a birth centre in 2010. I was all about the optimal positioning throughout my pregnancy. I never reclined, I sat on a ball from however many weeks, I did prenatal yoga and I walked and walked. I read books and meditated and fell completely and utterly in love with my baby. She was head down and engaged at 32 weeks and remained that way until she was born at 41+1.
In 2012 I became pregnant for the second time. I went about my pregnancy the same way I did the first: yoga, walking, optimal positioning, and so on. This time we planned to have our baby at home. This decision took us a while to come around to, and although I felt it was the right thing to do, I did have some nerves mainly around the idea of doing something differently that never left me.
At 29 weeks I had an appointment with my midwife. I had been feeling unsettled. I remember saying to her as she felt my baby: the baby is breech, isn’t it? She smiled and nodded, but said she wouldn’t have even mentioned it to me at such an early stage and made me agree not to worry about it. I smiled and agreed. I waited until she had been gone for around 20 minutes before I jumped on the internet, googling breech, turning breech, flipping breech, anything and everything BREECH.
Operation Flip-The-Baby
From this point onwards I just wanted the baby to turn. I wanted it so badly! I tried to relax and to trust my baby was doing what he/she needed to. I tried not to think about it. But each and every morning I would wake up and touch my growing belly. Each and every morning I felt a beautifully rounded head nestled up around my ribs. The baby would wriggle around and kick away happily. It felt so different from my first pregnancy, where I was constantly trying to push tiny feet out from under my ribs. Saffron’s little kicks were all down low. She was very comfortable!
I tried so many things to get her to turn. I went swimming and walking. I continued with yoga. I had a lot of acupuncture from 32 weeks and did two rounds of moxibustion at home with my [very patient] partner. I had at least two chiro appointments each week. I held myself upside down from the couch and got into all sorts of knots. I did handstands in the pool. I followed every instruction on spinningbabies.com and did my exercises religiously.
Still, that beautiful head stayed put.
It was at this point, heading towards the 35 week mark that we started to do some more serious research. We decided that a breech birth at home was not for us. This is not to disregard anyone else’s choice as we are all for people making the choice that suits them. However we became very tangled at this point as it was widely known that our local hospital was not supportive of breech vaginal births. As our area is zoned we do not have the option of going to another public hospital. After having our first baby at the local birth centre, we took obstetrics off our health insurance meaning that we were looking at a hefty bill if we wanted to change route and go with a private obstetrician who would support us to give a vaginal breech birth a go.
I felt at such a loss. If we didn’t have our baby at home, and we couldn’t afford a private obstetrician, we had limited remaining options: plan to have an elective caesarean; wait to go into labour and see who was on shift at the hospital and play that wild card; go into labour and turn up at a hospital that is not our local and see what happened.
None of these options sounded particularly (if at all) appealing to me.
I found myself planning for an elective caesarean, thinking that if I couldn’t have a homebirth and bring my baby into the world in a calm manner, then an elective caesarean was surely better than going into labour and having to have an emergency caesarean upon arriving at hospital. I didn’t want to put that kind of stress on my baby, nor risk having a general anaesthetic, nor did I think I would be able to labour well knowing I had that chance ahead of me. Not exactly prime labouring ingredients.
I continued going along to my midwife appointments, feeling disheartened every time I thought maybe, just maybe the baby had turned, only to see the look on my midwife’s face before she would tell me as cheerily as possible that there was still a little bottom down near my pelvis.
I had an ultrasound at around 34 weeks to check that there wasn’t something blocking the baby’s movement, or something developmental going on preventing her from turning. Nothing. She was perfect. My uterus was perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect. I was very relieved. But there was still the question then, why?
I asked my baby why. Why? Was there some sort of lesson for me to learn? Did the baby not want to be born at home?
I couldn’t figure it out.
The End of the Road
My midwife gave me some information about an External Cephalic Version (ECV). It is a procedure by which a doctor manually turns your baby from the outside. It is usually done with the assistance of a relaxant medication administered via drip along with ultrasound monitoring.
We did a lot of research. I worried that the baby was breech for a reason – who was I to interfere and make her turn? Was it the right thing?
We weighed up the pros and cons. In my case, we had pretty much decided that if the baby remained breech we were going to have an elective caesarean. This was the best choice for us. Knowing this, we decided that an ECV was our last chance at giving our baby a more natural welcome into our world. If it didn’t work I agreed to accept that it was what our baby wanted.
At 36 weeks I went to hospital for the procedure. We sat, sweaty palmed, in a long corridor lined with chairs waiting for our turn. I tapped my foot and my husband placed a warm hand on my knee. We were the only ones there.
The atmosphere changed inside when we were greeted by an incredibly bright and cheery doctor with a mop of curly red hair. He was delighted when he heard it was our second baby and assured us that he has a 50/50 success rate with first babies but an 80% success rate with second time mums. I had been told on the phone that I would be required to have a drip, not to eat too much in the morning as I may be turned upside-down somewhat, and that the procedure could take about 20 minutes and would be painful slash uncomfortable. As I was going in at 36 weeks, I would be allowed to come back the following week to have it done all over again if it didn’t work. There were also a number of risk factors involved such as the baby going into stress, cord entanglement, and other things I could barely bring myself to think about.
The doctor placed his hands on my stomach and I immediately practiced my yoga breathing to relax – in for four and out for four, in for four and out for four. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. He commented that I felt very relaxed, so relaxed in fact that if it was ok with us he would not use the drip. Music to my ears! We agreed and he continued to feel the baby’s position. He started to apply more pressure – this gave me a shock as I knew the midwife was setting up some monitoring for me in the next room before they did the ECV. When I realised what was going on, my baby was already transverse across my stomach. He kept going and all of a sudden her head was down! The whole process took about 60 seconds. I was very anxious to hear her heartbeat, and by the look on the midwife’s face when she returned to the room only to be told the baby’s head was already down, I could see that what had just happened was not exactly protocol. The doctor said that as I was so relaxed, he felt comfortable to go ahead with the ECV at that time. He had the ultrasound there and kept checking as he went to ensure she did not get tangled in any way. He said he prefers to do ECV’s without the relaxant as it makes it harder for the baby to flip back afterwards.
Although I have heard since then that there was some discussion behind the scenes as to how this procedure was administered – I could not be happier with how it went. I was terrified of having the drip and do not like to be medicated unnecessarily. I did experience some discomfort, but it was fast and over before I knew it.
I firmly believe that the weeks of work I had done before this procedure - yoga and acupuncture and moxibustion and chiropractics – had an immense effect on the success of the ECV. According to my acupuncturist, there is also research to show that an ECV is more successful following moxibustion treatment.
I sat around for an hour after the ECV, being monitored and given glasses of cold water as our baby slept through the entire thing. They like to see the baby’s heart-rate when they are awake following an ECV to ensure everything continues to go smoothly. She eventually woke up and had a perfect heart-rate. After being fed biscuits and cups of tea by the midwives, we were free to go.
I was elated. Ecstatic. Over the MOON.
We went out for lunch and coffee and texted everyone we knew to say that it had worked and the baby was fine and I was fine and we were all fine, fine, fine.
For the next four weeks, I still continued to wake each morning and feel my rounded belly. I was still worried that my darling baby had other plans and would turn back.
She didn’t.
When I was 40 weeks and 4 days pregnant, I went into labour. I had around 20 hours of pre-labour and a lot of stop-start. Again, this was so different to my first labour, which was 13 hours from start to finish and once it began it was on.
I strongly believe it was me who caused the stop start labour this time around. I still feel really silly to admit to the amount of stress that having a baby in breech position caused me. I just couldn’t put it in perspective.
I now know that it wasn’t because she was breech alone. It was because I was afraid of going against the norm. I was afraid of what people said. About homebirth, about breech vaginal birth… I felt that no matter what path I took there would be someone saying that I was doing the wrong thing and for some reason I just couldn’t shake that nasty feeling.
I felt angry that I had such limited options – that the only people who could help me have a breech vaginal birth in a hospital were going to charge me the earth.
I felt furious that my baby was going to be born by caesarean because I couldn’t afford a vaginal birth in a hospital. It seemed (SEEMS) ludicrous! Who can’t afford to have their baby naturally? Surely the procedure of a caesarean costs a lot more money than me pushing my own baby out using the power of my body and my baby?
Why weren’t these people trained? I continually asked myself. What is wrong with this system? Why can’t my baby choose how she wants to arrive and me feel safe in knowing that someone would help me?
Yes. I could have birthed her at home if she was breech. Yes. My support team were very qualified to do this if I chose. It was me who did not feel comfortable with this – I wanted to go to hospital if she remained breech. That was my informed choice, my decision.
How crazy is it that I went on to discover I would be better supported by better trained and qualified professionals to deliver a breech baby at home than in a hospital?
Unfortunately, these are all questions that remain unanswered.
At 9pm the night our darling girl was born, my naturopath came over to my home and gave me a massage. She squirted flower essences in my mouth and at 10pm she told me to go to bed and try to get some rest. She said with any luck my baby would arrive the next morning. She went home laughing knowing full well that I would not be getting any sleep that night. She felt the openness in my hips and the readiness of my body. She eased my busy mind and left me feeling calm and full once again.
I went to bed as instructed. I was exhausted after having been up much of the night before. I lay down and instantly felt a strong contraction. It was at that point I knew I would not be getting any sleep either.
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By 11pm I was in established labour. Unlike my first labour when I needed a lot of instruction and support to get into different positions, this time I knew exactly what I needed to do. I disappeared into the delicious fog of labour and got down to business.
After two and a half hours I felt that first grainy, grunting, solid urge to push. I felt some sense of busy-ness in the softly lit room behind me, and at one point there was a question of whether the pool would be filled up in time.
After two and a half hours I felt that first grainy, grunting, solid urge to push. I felt some sense of busy-ness in the softly lit room behind me, and at one point there was a question of whether the pool would be filled up in time.
I knew that when my midwife told me I could get into the water, that it wouldn’t be long before I would get to meet my baby. The water was so warm and all-enveloping. I can’t believe I gave birth the first time without it. My doctor arrived and my mum, my midwife sister, my midwife and my husband – my support team – were all there. I used my hand and felt my baby come down the birth canal. The forward and backward motion as she moved slowly towards me. Her hair flowing through my fingers as she entered the water.
Before long she was in my arms. She was here. She had arrived. Little Saffron. It was 3.02am.
Before long she was in my arms. She was here. She had arrived. Little Saffron. It was 3.02am.
At some point along the way someone said to me that a baby is breech because it wants to be closer to your heart. I think of that saying often now, as Saffron’s favourite place earth-side is with her head nestled close to my chest, listening to my heartbeat.
I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to give birth to her in the safety of my home surrounded by a loving team of people I knew and trusted wholeheartedly.
Five months on, all the questions I had are still unanswered. I don’t know where our path would have led had we not had the ECV. I still wonder whether she would have turned of her own accord. During pregnancy? During labour? I have heard many people discrediting an ECV and I still wonder if I did the right thing.
But each day I look into the eyes of my darling girl and know in my heart that everything happened just the way it was meant to.
* * * * *
You can read more about my passage through motherhood at http://motherwho.wordpress.com.
I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to give birth to her in the safety of my home surrounded by a loving team of people I knew and trusted wholeheartedly.
Five months on, all the questions I had are still unanswered. I don’t know where our path would have led had we not had the ECV. I still wonder whether she would have turned of her own accord. During pregnancy? During labour? I have heard many people discrediting an ECV and I still wonder if I did the right thing.
But each day I look into the eyes of my darling girl and know in my heart that everything happened just the way it was meant to.
* * * * *
You can read more about my passage through motherhood at http://motherwho.wordpress.com.
