I’ve run this story through my mind countless times over the past few weeks. I struggle with sharing it for many reasons. It requires a depth of honesty and braveness that I have not reached here before.
It is a story that involves great joy and beauty. It also involves the shattering of some pretty long held beliefs about myself that I thought were solid, that I could count on. Beliefs about who I am as a person, as a woman, as a mother. I share my story with you in the spirit of braveness and the hope that reading my story might help you open to and accept yours, whatever it may be. (I’ve found this to be true myself, particuarly reading this the day of my
induction and this a few weeks after Melaina’s birth.)
To start I’d like to go back to April 19th. That morning we went for a sonogram because the midwives couldn’t determine the baby’s position at our appontmnet the day before. I was a nervous wreck, as I was pretty much every time we had to have a sonogram. This morning in particular we returned to the hospital where we had gotten some very bad news the year before. Same room, same kind woman doing the sonogram. It was all I could do to breathe. It took less than a minute for her to confirm that yes indeed the baby was in a complete breech position. We left with sonogram pictures in hand. I was scared and angry adn mostlty convinced that I would be forced to have a C section. In my journal that day I wrote, “All my illusions of control were shattered today.” I thought if I just did everything right, I would have the birth I
envisioned. If I just kept up with my yoga practice and went to physical therapy and swam laps regularly and on and on. And part of me, a big part of me, was royally pissed that I had worked hard, I had kept up my end of the bargain and now I was being cheated! I cried, I wrote in my journal, I tried to explain my feelings to all the well-intended people who kept saying but the baby is healthy, that is all that matters. Then the unrelentig control freak in me kicked back in and said I will flip this baby, switching me into action mode! (See how quickly I lose the lesson lol) I researched, I scheduled new appointments, I visualized, I affirmed, I laid upside down on an ironing board (see photo). And guess what I did flip that baby!

My due date was May 21st. It came and went and with each passing day I felt like a student who had prepared for a big exam and the teacher kept moving the date. All of my reading, preparing. Also, I began to be haunted by thoughts like “what’s wrong with my body that I’m not goin into labor?” I began to think of myself as a damaged woman. Eventually it became clear that I would need to be induced. This felt like the first failure. Tonight we check into the hospital for an induction. Baby is 1 week & 5 days overdue and the midwives are not comfortable waiting any longer.

That morning started with the typical routine I’d adpoted over the previous week. I woke up too early, usually around 5am, and cry as I realize I am still pregnant and not in labor, try in vain to fall back asleep, decide I am starving, get up for a glass of cranberry juice and a Kashi granola bar, cry some more, and feel sorry for myself or angry at my situation. Then the baby wakes up and starts dancing in my belly and I regain my perspective and focus on feeling grateful for the healthy baby inside me.
The difference that morning was that I officially knew that time had run out on my plan for an intervention-free labor and delivery. Even the day before I held on to some hope that things would get going on their own.
We checked in at the hospital at 6pm. The induction started with Cervadil at 7pm, followed by two hours of laying flat on my back. My hubby and I watched re-runs on TV. I was scared, but also excited to finally meet the baby!
I think it’s kind of funny that when I went to type the title for this post I accidebntally typed “Melinda’s BIrth Story.” (Melinda being my full name.) It would be just as accurate of a title.