When decisions consume you

After finding out last week that the baby was growing well, my next decision was this - how do I birth Baby Girl safely?

To help me answer this question, earlier this week we met with the most amazing Ob who - unlike any doctor in the Hudson Valley - also happens to like delivering breech babies. He sat with us for a full hour talking and answering every one of our questions. Ultimately, he left it up to us - he knew the practical issues were something we'd need to work out if we chose this path.

So Dada and I spent that afternoon, night, and the next morning talking, deliberating, hugging, crying, arguing until I finally reached my decision. I say my decision because Dada already made up his mind. I just needed to make up mine. Ultimately, the decision was left up to me. Whatever I wanted, I knew Dada would oblige (however grudgingly so) even if it wasn't what he thought was right for our family.

So on Tuesday morning, I made my decision - I had too much fear revolved around giving birth vaginally to a breech baby, and therefore, I did not think I would be able to emotionally and physically handle it. What does that mean? It means that my fear would have gotten in the way of the pushing stage - the most crucial stage in delivering a breech baby safely into this world. That fear could be detrimental to the baby. At first I thought I was a wimp, and even said as much in an email to a friend. But, I realize now, that I am being honest and courageous in my ability to admit the fear and acknowledge what it could do to me and, consequently, the baby. I could deny the fear or pretend I'll overcome it, but since giving birth vaginally to a breech baby is never something I considered until very recently, I know I can't just magically overcome this fear. I wouldn't want to lie to myself now, only to have it backfire later on.

There were, of course, other practical issues (mentioned above) that also factored into my decision - the hospital is an hour-and-a-half away, the doctor goes on vacation 6 days after my due date, it's the middle of winter, and there is about a 20 percent chance I could end up needing an emergency Caesarean.

I've decided not to let my body go into labor and THEN have an emergency or semi-urgent C-section, because I want a particular doctor to do the surgery. This doctor delays cord clamping if the baby is okay, will put the curtain down if you want to see the baby coming out. He tries to let you feel as though it is a natural birth rather than a medical birth. If I went into labor, I could get any doctor from my practice OR a doctor from my old practice. I like the other doctors from my practice, but I would rather this one. And I left the other practice for a reason. Also, another big factor in this decision is that I've heard that it is a bit easier to recover from a planned C-section than an unplanned one, especially one that follows labor. Of course, I am scared, but I am thinking positively as I resolved to do, that everything will work out for the best and that I will be okay during and after the surgery.

So we're forging ahead with the planned Caesarean on Jan. 24, the day before my due date. I'm in touch with one of the midwives in the practice who is helping me formulate a list of preferences and how to communicate that with the doctor and nurse. She's also going to see if they might allow my doula into the OR.

Basically, I am tired of feeling stressed out about all of the uncertainties and unknowns and not enjoying my last weeks as a family of three, or with my son as an only child. Although I've been trying to maintain my focus on Cole and Dada, it's hard because this decision and all of the events revolved around it have totally and utterly consumed me. I can't sleep, my heartburn is at an all-time high, my back is killing me, and the contractions are a constant.

So when I finally made the decision, we all breathed a sigh of relief, the tension was lifted, the mood lightened tremendously and we - all three of us - started to nest - almost immediately.

All that matters now is that we all have fun this next week. No more heavy hearts. No more worries.

Those worries? At the advice of my doula today, I wrote them all on a list, read it, tore it up, and threw it away. It was very liberating.