One of "Those" Children
My OBGYN is about as practical and down to earth as you can
possibly get. Two months before Steve & I conceived Gracie, I had a very
early miscarriage. I have a strange antibody in my blood that makes me more
susceptible to early miscarriages, so the loss, while heartbreaking, was not a
complete surprise. My doctor said, "you know
these things happen frequently and you do have a higher risk of miscarriage than
most women." No tear-filled "sorry for your loss" speeches from
him. When I went to have my first ultrasound when I was six weeks pregnant with
Gracie, he set me down and told me the ultrasound looked good, but not to get
too excited. When I made it to the 12-week mark, I asked if it was okay to get
excited. He said, "Take out a billboard ad if you want to." I had
heard of doctors who released pregnant women from work 4 to 5 weeks before
delivery. I anticipated that same thing from my doctor. Visions of spending the
last few weeks of my pregnancy at home resting and getting the baby's room
ready danced in my head. I asked, "When should I stop working?" His
response: "When your contractions are five minutes apart." He looked
at me like he was thinking, "Woman, you're pregnant, not sick."
Throughout my pregnancy, he told it to me like it was. If I gained too much
weight between visits, he told me I needed to watch what I ate. When I failed
the one hour glucose test but passed the three hour glucose test, he told me
that was not carte blanche to go eat all the sugar I wanted. He was very
easy-going and direct. I was comfortable with that. I had my husband, my mother
and my sister to baby me and pamper me. I needed my doctor to be honest and
straightforward.
37 Week Surprise
So, when I
was 37 weeks along and he did my first internal exam and then frowned, I knew
that it wasn't going to be good news. He's not one to exaggerate problems or
look for trouble when trouble's not there. "I don't think that the baby's
head is in the right location. We need to do an ultrasound to check it
out." So, back to the ultrasound room we went. He did the first part of
the ultrasound, another clue to me that whatever was going on was not something
to be taken lightly. He let the ultrasound tech finish the exam, told her to
take several pictures, and told me to go to an exam room when we finished and
he'd be in to talk to me. Okay, to say my blood pressure was elevated at this
point would be an understatement. I met him in the exam room and he started our
conversation by saying, "Well, it appears that you have one of 'those'
children" - one of those who make their wills know before they even
arrive. Gracie was transverse breech, head on the left side, feet
on the right. I asked what that meant. He said "Babies don't come out this
way." I said, "Not without a lot of trouble." He shook his head,
"Not at all. If she stays this way, you'll have to have a c-section."
Okay, never in 9 months had I imagined this - I knew that my hips were made for
childbirth – I mean, come on, that had been my excuse for years, and no one in
my family had ever had a c-section, so it never even crossed my mind. Questions
filled my mind. My doctor patiently answered them. Would this be more risky for
Gracie? No, it would be a little more difficult surgery for him and a little
more difficult recovery for me, but Gracie & I both would be fine. Why did
this happen - was something wrong? No, sometimes babies just don't turn. It can
happen with a host of medical conditions but it can also happen for no medical
reason at all.
We scheduled another appointment for a week and a half later
to see if my stubborn baby girl had turned. She hadn't. My doctor said I had
two choices: Option 1. Schedule a c-section. Option 2.
Go into labor on my own and have an emergency c-section in the middle of the
night. Okay, I may be slow, but I haven't totally missed the train. I quickly
chose Option 1. A scheduled c-section it was. So, I have never felt a labor
pain. Gracie was born an hour and fifteen minutes after we arrived at the
hospital, perfect in every way. My doctor was right - she never would have come
out the way she was turned. He was right that she and I both were going to be
okay. He was right that sometimes these things "happen" and there's
no medical reason for them. He was also right that my daughter is one of
"those" children.
These days when she’s throwing herself on the ground because
she doesn’t get her way or pulling with all her might to move a chair away from
the table so she can “clean” it or running pell mell toward the road when we’re playing in the yard, I just
have to smile to myself and remember that my doctor called it all those months
ago – I have one of “those” kids. I wouldn’t have it any other way