Long before my due date, I had a feeling that the baby was lying with its bottom down, which was confirmed by the midwife and later by an ultrasound.
Various home methods were tried in the hope that the baby would turn around. Home rebozo, shaking the buttocks, and various positions with the buttocks up and the head down. But nothing seemed to help.
I was going to give birth at Herlev Hospital and felt very safe in their hands considering my possible impending breech birth. I was offered a version attempt when I was 37+0, which I accepted. I felt I had to try, even though I knew it wasn't entirely risk-free. So I decided that if it felt a little wrong, I would say stop.
No less than two different doctors, including the senior physician, tried. But the baby wouldn't turn, so we gave up. Later, it turned out that there was a specific reason for this.
The head physician, Henrik, talked to my husband and me about our options for the birth.
The next few days and weeks included a weight measurement and two consultations with the head physician. He is also a strong advocate of breech births over planned C-sections, which is why Herlev Hospital has extensive experience with this type of birth.
However, he left it entirely up to me whether I preferred a breech birth or a C-section. It took many days of confusing soul-searching, but I decided to leave it up to nature for the time being.
But boy, my unstable brain was put to the test, because it was going to be a long, long time. With my first birth, I gave birth 6 days before my due date, so it's not hard to understand that I was quite impatient when I was a whole WEEK overdue. In addition to my impatience, I had a growing fear that my baby might be too big for such a birth. I was told that 3800-4000 g was the maximum. Otherwise, I would have to have a C-section, which I really wanted to avoid.
The baby was examined, of course, and neither the midwife nor the senior physician were concerned, because she didn't seem to be that big.
I felt that I should try to do something to get labor started, so I went to Helle Ella, who is said to be able to help people like me. She gave me acupuncture and tried to loosen the membranes, hoping to get something started. It didn't help much. But the conversation we had during the treatment was worth its weight in gold.
On Thursday, nine days after my due date, I had a consultation with Henrik. He was comfortable giving me the weekend, but I got an appointment for a C-section on Monday.
Suddenly, I was completely accepted. Accepted that now time and nature would decide how things would turn out, and accepted that they could just cut me open, because now the baby had to come OUT soon.
Maybe that was what did the trick, but anyway, I woke up at 5:15 a.m. on Friday morning. My water had broken. Damn, it's time! I wake up my husband, and confused as I am, I stumble into the bathroom and sit down on the toilet. Then I remember that you have to lie down when your water breaks, and that it's a birth from the lower body, so that the umbilical cord doesn't get pinched.
I stumble back to bed, feel a few more contractions, and call the maternity ward. The midwife on the other end of the line tells me to lie still and says they will call an ambulance because I have to be transported lying down. However, it will take half an hour for it to arrive, but if the contractions get stronger, I should call again. My mother-in-law is also called so that she can look after our big girl.
Seven minutes later, I have to call the maternity ward again. The contractions suddenly come every three minutes and last for about a minute. After my first birth, which lasted five hours, I know myself well enough to know that I have to go soon.
Suddenly, three large ambulance personnel and my mother-in-law are standing in our bedroom joking about I don't know what. Very funny, but also a little cozy. I get into the ambulance, and shortly after, we are at Herlev Hospital, where I go straight to the delivery room. I am 5–6 cm dilated, and the contractions are getting much stronger. There is no time for painkillers. Oxygen is all I can manage, because my hands and legs are shaking.
The contractions roll over me, I throw up, but I notice in my foggy state that there is a large team ready to receive the baby. The only person I focus on is my midwife. Despite the shift change and thus a new midwife, my first midwife stays, but more in the background. The new midwife is just as skilled, and I feel like I'm in good hands the whole time, knowing that I have a big safety net in the whole birth team, my husband, and a C-section operating room ready, as is the case with breech births, because 50% end in C-sections.
Every time a contraction comes, I hide my face under my arm and focus only on my breathing. Apparently, this is my way of coping with the pain.
Suddenly, I am fully dilated and feel the urge to push. “Can I push?” I ask impatiently, but the midwife is a little vague in her answer. “Can I push?” I exclaim a little more insistently, and I get the go-ahead.
In my head, I imagine the videos of breech births on YouTube that I have watched over and over again. How the buttocks come out, after which some babies need help getting their legs out using a special technique, and finally the arms and head come out.
I have no idea how far I've come or any other details. I just focus on pushing when I feel the urge to, and on holding back and gasping when I'm asked to.
The midwife rarely touches me. She mostly just monitors. I had read about this before the birth, and as far as I understood, touching the baby could trigger a breathing reflex. Not exactly what you want when the head isn't out yet.
Suddenly, I'm so far along that only the head is left. I sense a little unease in the whole group and am asked to push as hard as I can. I let go completely, and she comes out with a whoosh, hangs for a moment with her head in the midwife's hands, and then comes up onto my stomach.
It is 7:51 a.m., 2.5 hours after I woke up in my own bed.
I am completely overwhelmed. I did it! And in record time!
All the emotions and hormones that can come into play are overwhelming me. I feel like the coolest person in the world!
But my baby is a little limp and isn't crying properly, so she is placed on the baby table. I should be worried, but for some reason I feel that everything is fine. After a very short time, she cries, and everything IS fine.
She comes back to me. The feeling is completely indescribable. Just as amazing at the second birth as it was at the first. She just lies there and looks up at me with her big dark eyes.
While I am being stitched up and lying there looking at our little wonder, the midwife tells me the reason for the unease I felt. When only her head was left to deliver, they see that she has the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck twice. I don't even notice it. Fortunately, it didn't feel like anything dramatic at that moment. Since the attempt to turn her, I had had a feeling about it. So it was clear that she refused to turn. Nature is wise!
The senior doctor has arrived at work and comes over to congratulate me. My consulting midwife comes in to ask about the birth and congratulates me. It feels like the whole hospital has heard about my birth. My.world's.coolest.breech birth!
It has now been a year since one of the greatest achievements of my life, and she, along with her big sister, is still an expert at turning things upside down and our whole existence. She is a big part of my life and the happiest baby in the world.
I am so glad I chose to try a breech birth, and I love being enriched by this experience.