External Cephalic Version - Our Experience

Today was an interesting day.  Not terrible, but not great either.  This morning we went to the hospital to have an "External Cephalic Version", where a doctor tries to manually turn your baby through your belly into the vertex (head down) position.  Here is a video of the procedure if you're interested (this isn't me, I found this on youtube).  This little guy has been sideways (transverse) for quite some time and as i've written about before we've tried virtually everything to get him to turn his little self into the ideal position for birth.  Acupuncture, chiropractic, music, light, inversions....you name it, we've tried it.

A natural childbirth has been my ultimate goal throughout this entire pregnancy and my husband and I have spent so much time researching, reading, and taking classes on the subject that we felt like we needed to try this one last (and most invasive) approach as a last resort.  The doctor recommends doing the procedure at the end of 36 weeks while the baby is still small enough to turn without too much force.  I was hopeful and positive about the procedure, but at the same time I didn't have high expectations for the outcome based on how stubborn the little guy has been up until now. 

First we had an ultrasound scan to check his position.  Once the doctor decided on a "forward roll" (as opposed to a "backward roll") he laid me back and got started.  It didn't really hurt but was definitely uncomfortable and I felt a lot of pressure.  He started out more gently and wasn't having much luck so he tried more aggressively.  Suddenly the baby moved and his heart rate dropped from around 150 to 60 and then stopped for a second.  The doctor quickly turned him back to his original position and his heart rate recovered and was back to normal after a couple of minutes.  I actually couldn't see the screen during this time and everybody stayed so calm that I really didn't know what exactly was going on, which is probably better.  

After the baby recovered the doctor did another ultrasound (I think using infrared?) that allowed him to see blood flow and discovered the baby's cord is wrapped around his neck.  That's why his heart rate dropped so suddenly when he turned since the cord is actually keeping him in the position he's in.

We decided to stop and leave him as he is.  The cord isn't dangerous to him how he's laying and apparently this is fairly common, you just usually don't know about it until the baby is born.  I always wondered if he was in the position he's in for a reason, and now we know he is.  

Today was scary but everything turned out ok and I don't regret trying.  Now I know we've done everything we could possibly do to give all of us the best chance for a natural birth.  Now the hard part is accepting that it's most likely not going to happen for us (save for a cord untangling baby turning miracle).  I am disappointed that I am not going to be able to experience a normal childbirth.  I think it's ok to mourn that for a few minutes.  I also know that we are extremely lucky to have a healthy baby about to join our family and that after he's born it won't matter how he got here.  

We have a c-section tentatively scheduled for February 1st.  We'll take it week by week and see how it goes.  I'm not convinced that I want a scheduled c-section and may still allow myself to go into labor naturally, even if I know the outcome will be a c-section once we get to the hospital.  They also said there is a strong possibility that I could go into labor before February 1st.  We're meeting with our doula Heather on Sunday to talk about it.  She brings a different point of view to the table and gives us things to think about that the doctor/hospital setting doesn't.  

At the end of the day we knew our birth plan was just that - a plan.  I feel at peace knowing we did all that we could do and this is essentially out of our hands.  This baby is now in charge of how he's being born, and that's ok.  Plans change.  We just want to meet him and hold him and smooch his little tiny face to pieces.

Love,

Chelsea