This isn't the post I was going to put up today. The post I was going to put up was titled "That Little Stinker!" I wrote it shortly after coming out of my first doctor's appointment of the day, and it read as follows:
At today's NST it was discovered that our little boy - Baby A - has decided to join his twin sister and go breech! My dreams for a VBAC are getting further and further away from me. I think that, were it not so laughable that HE be the one who decided to flip at 37 weeks, I just might cry over this news. So much for believing anything in this life is within our control.
For now, all I can do is thank God that these babies are healthy, and pray that their (most likely) c-sectioned entry into this world is not too triggering of painful memories from Peyton's.
Please join me in praying for a beautiful and healing birth experience for us all. It's not the way I would have chosen, but so little in this life is. It looks like we will be scheduled for sometime next week.
It had been a chaotic morning. I had almost gotten into a car accident on my way to the hospital. Had the accident happened, it would have been my fault, not because I wasn't paying attention, but it was one of those situations where my vision on a car got lost in the glare of the sun. I saw it at just the right time, slammed on my breaks, and was able to avoid getting hurt.
After that I headed to the hospital and had my appointment. When it was over, I typed the short post up on my hubs cell phone (texting is not my strong suit) and put it aside to revisit and edit once I got home. I called hubs to give him the news about Baby A, and we decided to meet up for lunch.
My husband "gets" why I am so sad about the prospect of not getting to VBAC. When we were first told that Baby B had gone breech, and VBAC was unlikely, it was hubs who had tears come to his eyes first. When I asked him what was the matter, he told me he was upset for me, because he knew how hard those words were for me to hear. "I know how badly you want this," he said, "and that makes me want it for you. It just seems unfair that it has to be so difficult."
Today at lunch we had much the same conversation. With each cosmic blow to my plan of VBAC-ing these babies, I have learned to become more accepting of the reality that when the time comes, I will be wheeled not into a delivery room, but an operating room, and my children will be removed from me by an obstetrician, rather than birthed by my will, blood, sweat and tears. It's not what I would have chosen, but like the many other twists and turns that have come along this journey to motherhood, I will learn to roll with it.
When lunch was over, hubs and I headed out to the parking lot so he could go back to work. My mind was still swirling with the mix of emotions of the day: the joy at hearing once again how great the babies are looking on NST, mixed with the disappointment at realizing what a small miracle it would take at full term to get both of these babies to flip so that I could VBAC. All of the sudden my train of thought was broken by a loud screech, and crash. A car went tumbling end over end in front of us, before landing roof down against a pole. At the other side of the street, what remained of the car that had hit it sat smoking. The site made us stop in our tracks. We just knew that both drivers had to be hurt badly, or worse. The accident was one of the worst I have ever seen.
There was a police officer not even a hundred yards from the scene of the accident, standing near a work crew.
"What's that cop doing?" I kept asking hubs. "Why is he just standing there? He should be running over to help them." Drivers from other cars had come pouring out into the street to attend to the wounded, but the cop stood still. Even now, a few hours later, I still can't make sense of his actions. After an eternity, or a moment, rescue vehicles were on the scene.
"Makes you count your blessings." I said holding onto hubs, still unable to process the devastation we had just witnessed.
"Yes," he nodded, "it sure does."
As we left the scene, I told hubs about my near-accident of the morning, and how a split second of reaction time had made all the difference.
And that's just sort of how life is sometimes.
Chaotic. Unpredictable. Out of our control.
I guess as long as we recognize that, it is easier to accept those moments that feel full of disappointment.
I won't lie and say that I am not still sad that I can't have my choice when it comes to how these babies are going to be brought into this world, but so little that happens in this life is by choice.
So little is within our control.
So I am choosing to do the only thing that STILL IS within my control. I am choosing to keep things in perspective.
Yes I am disappointed. Yes I know that having a c-section is going to be more triggering for me than vaginal birth would have been. Yes the thought of it scares me.
But I am okay. My husband is okay. These babies are okay.
At the end of the day - whether things go the way I had hoped or not - what else really matters?