The Exciting (non) Conclusion

37 weeks, 3 days.

I wanted to write a triumphant entry on Thursday night about the wonders of medical science and how the doctors fixed my little right-side-up/up-side-down issue, but I couldn't. The external version failed. Well, in my mind, the doctor performing it failed.

Griffin and I arrived at Morristown Memorial Hospital a few minutes early; we seem to arrive everywhere a few minutes early. After driving around trying to find the proper entrance we just parked in the visitors lot. There is a lot of construction going on at the hospital and it looked like a battle zone. Griffin spotted the "Women's Services" entrance and we went in. The main desk was empty, so, we walked down one hall and then turned around and walked down another. It wasn't clear where to go. I felt like a rat in a maze.

We started to follow some printed signs for Labor and Delivery Admission. After what felt like an eternity we got to a security guard who let us into the 'ward'. I tried to check in at the desk and they all stared at me blankly when I told them I was here for a version. The nurses at the desk asked each other if there was a version scheduled. They looked a little like Keystone Cops running around digging through paperwork trying to figure out if I was scheduled. Finally, one of them found something and a nurse led us into the nicest hospital room I had ever seen.

Since we were in the Labor and Delivery Ward, I guess they have tried to make the rooms nicer. It was kind of like a new budget hotel room with lots of medical machines in the back with tons of wires running out of them. Of course the bed was a hospital bed, but it had a little rounded end that looked a little more comfy like a chase lounge. There was one chair, a stool and that was it for seating. Griffin plopped into the chair.

The nurse gave me a johnny to put on and told me to leave my underthings on. I got dressed and Griffin tied up my back. I rolled onto the bed. The nurse came back in, untied me and gave me a sheet. She wrapped a fetal monitor around my belly and set the machine to beep quietly.

Kasey, Judy's student midwife found us. Since there was no where else to sit, she climbed up on the stool. We chatted as the nurse went about setting things up and then left to check on where the doctor was.

We talked about how I hate to give blood or have IVs put in. My veins are skinny and deep in my elbow pits, and yet that's where they always start looking. I have become rather proactive about the whole thing and I tell the person trying to poke me that my hands are a much better place to look. I have strong hands with veins that pop out with very little effort. I can stand the pain of being poked there and it is usually done in one shot.

The nurse came in to start the IV and I gave her my usual speech about my skinny veins and how I would be happy to have her put the IV in the back of my hand. She told me she hates doing hands and tried to find a vein in my forearm. I don't know what she was looking at (I never watch when they are trying to do this), but she stuck me in the middle of my arm. She dig around a bit and then pulled the needle out.

She moved to the crook of my arm. Poked, dug, pulled out. Poked, dug, grunted, dug, wiggled and finally it was set. I turned to look at the IV and saw the furiously red blood running down my arm from the two first pokes. She tried to wipe it off, but it has started to coagulate already. She got some wet paper towels and wiped my arm clean and put two Band-aids on. She set the IV to drip saline.

A few minutes later a little man came into the room and announced he was going to need a couple of vials of blood. I cringed. I told him about my skinny veins and he just ignored me. He put on the tourniquet and started looking at the veins in the crook of my other arm. I sighed. I hate hospitals. He poked me once and started to dig. I felt the needle go in and out several times inside my arm. Looking, looking, looking. I was bound to spring a leak somewhere. Finally, he found something and got his two vials of blood. "That is going to bruise a bit," he told me. Do ya think? He gave me a Band-aid too.

Apparently, the doctor was running late because he had an 'emergency procedure'. C-section, I figured. The nurse left and the three of us chatted about all sorts of things. A couple of hours passed and I could hardly stand it anymore. I hadn't eaten since 9:30 the night before and I was getting the shakes. The nurse came back in and said the doctor is on his way. Yippee.

The OB came in with two other doctors in tow. Great. He questioned who Kasey was with a weird look on his face. They started up the ultrasound and jellied up my belly. He stood in front of me and pointed out all of Piper's anatomy. ". . . and here is her spine, can you see that?" he asked.

"The only thing I can see is your back." he turned and looked back at me and made a weak attempt to get out of my line of vision to the ultrasound screen. I was ready to just get this on. The nurse prepared to give me the 'medicine' that would stop my uterus from contracting while he worked on me. She gave me a shot in my arm! What the heck was the IV for?

Within a few minutes the doc and one of his lackies started the version. They pushed, twisted, grunted and dug into my belly. Oi. It hurt on the surface and felt weird and creepy inside. They were trying to get a hold of her head and butt and turn them around. Piper's head was stuffed so high into my ribs that he couldn't get a good grip. The doc talked about how he didn't want to bump the placenta, and yet he was spinning her head right for it. Why not go the other way then? I had to be reminded to breathe a couple of times.

The lackie was grunting and following directions. These two rough men were doing battle with my little girl. She was winning. My belly was suffering. After about 15 minutes he announced that this 'wasn't happening'. My skin was on fire. It felt like an Indian burn and I was sure it would bruise.

They turned on some lights to talk to us. Well, the florescents weren't done flickering before the words "scheduled c-section" came out of his mouth. I looked at him dumbly. He said he could get me on the schedule now and that it was better than just waiting until I was in labor and doing an emergency one. C-section? I was planning a home birth! He basically told us that if he couldn't turn her, she wouldn't turn and you can't have a vaginal breech birth. And then he looked at me rather queerly and asked, "Do you have insurance?"

"Yeah," I was dumbfounded. I wasn't prepared to schedule anything. I wanted to go home. And so we did. I called Judy, our midwife, on the way and told her what happened. She gave me the name of another OB and the phone number of the midwife from Uganda that does home breech deliveries. Judy told me if we go that route, she could not be there because the State doesn't allow certified nurse midwives to do them. I was shocked.

I was very sore by the time we got home and I collapsed in a chair. Griffin talked about everything. I was not happy about the prospect of a c-section. It is everything I don't want to have happen. Eventually, I cried it out. In the days since, I have been doing a lot of reading about turning a breech baby. There are other options and I intend to try them all. I will not give up.

Today I am going to see an acupuncturist. They have a treatment that encourages the baby to move into the vertex position. There is also a procedure I can do at home that they will teach me to do. I am waiting for a homeopathic treatment to arrive today as well. It is supposed to help relax the uterus and make it easier for the baby to turn.

Tomorrow we are going to meet with another OB, this one is a woman, who may agree to do a version for us. I have read the the external version should be done gently and in a massaging manner. Roughness and forcing is futile. (I'll say.) She is also one of the few OBs left that is willing to assist in a vaginal breech birth. Of course, I would have to do it in the hospital, but it seems like a compromise to me.

I will also schedule a (GASP) chiropractor appointment. There are a few chiros that do a procedure called the "Webster's Technique" which is supposed to help widen and loosen the pelvis as well as straighten a twisted uterus. That will be an act of desperation for me.

In addition, I have been doing exercises at home and lots of belly massage. In fact I have been able to move Piper around quite a bit. I am a little nervous about flipping her completely because that damn doctor put the thought in my head that maybe she won't go because she has her cord wrapped around her neck. It is highly unlikely. I really don't like doctors. So, this isn't a conclusion, but a continuation.

And I will leave it as "to be continued . . . "