My wanting vs. His plan
Yesterday I had my 16 week OB appointment. It’s always really exciting for me. Jack and I were able to hear Baby’s heartbeat for quite a while. Jack wasn’t as impressed as I was.
I met my Williston doctor for the first time and she is really great. I don’t know where doctors learn to portray their knowledgeably-laced confidence, but I’m ever thankful for it. She made me feel small in my medical knowing (which I am) but large in that I am a woman who is having a baby and this whole process is deeply personal to me, and she respected that – without verbally saying either. Lord, I am thankful for those you provide in our lives.
She went over my chart and started talking to me about a VBAC (vaginal birth after a cesarian.) Giving birth naturally is one of those bare roots, natural, stripped-of-everything basic functions of a woman that I have always wanted to experience. Like a right of passage into motherhood that, in all my thinkings my whole life, I took for granted. It was just going to happen.
Well, Jack needed to be a c-section. And I appreciate and respect Western medicine for it’s advances and protocols and quick-thinking in dire times of need. And as we all know, Jack turned out adorable with a nice round head that just popped out of my tummy. Recovering from the surgery wasn’t that bad.
But I wanted for this baby to have him/her the way babies were meant to be had and have that new baby be laid on my chest all wet and new.
The doctor told me that since I am having my babies less than two years apart, my risk of having my c-section scar break open and rupture my uterus is higher and there is a risk of my baby dying from that.
That it is a national standard, not just something that Williston hospitals follow, but I am not allowed to have a VBAC and we will schedule a cesarian date.
I tried to push that burning feeling back in my throat. But I couldn’t. And I burst out in tears in that white, boring room. The doctor just sat there with poise and handed me a tissue and let me cry it out. She told me that was a natural response to this information. I composed myself to tell her that I understood. “I can tell you do,” she said. Lord, I am thankful for the people you put in my life.
Now, I know there is information and options and alternatives to this kind of information. And I could fight it. I could break out my feminist side and demand a natural birth because they have been successful before and it is my right and all of that. I know.
But for me, this all stopped being about me the moment I tied my life to my husband. And my “self” especially became third on the list when babies became involved. My yearning for a natural birth is something for me, it’s something I want. For me it isn’t about the natural path for my child to enter the world. I know there are studies to tell me the problems a child born via cesarian may have, but a million babies have grown to be healthy adults who came into the world that way.
My immediate response was sadness for something I wanted, but won’t have. I am an emotional being. But my logical side quickly stepped in.
There is something I can choose to do that will lessen a risk to my baby. I can protect my child from harm. And that is my duty as a mother. And that’s that.
So suck it up buttercup.
Things don’t always go the way you planned.
So, our baby will be here October 15 or 16. I’m hoping for the 16. Who wants to be be born on an odd-numbered day? No one.
I am happy to know a solid date. Another plus is that we will go to the hospital and know we will have our baby in our arms in a very short time.
So it’s not going to go how I thought it would. There has been a plan set in place for our lives and He knows what he is doing, in every detail.