This is the date for my planned C section. This is the date that hopefully all the tears, all the frustration, waiting, guilt, panic and every other emotion I've felt in this pregnancy will pay off and so many peoples hopes and dreams are realised.
A section is not my ideal by a long shot. I am not sure I am entirely at peace with my decision to go for it, rather than an induction. I have spent the last 2-3 months thinking about how my little baby might make her appearance into the world. Deliberating. Weighing up the pros and cons. I had hoped the hospital might have felt strongly one way or another, and the that decision was taken out of my hands. However it seemed they wanted me to choose. And when it comes down to it, I just don't have the faith in them to go for an induction. They have told me that as I am delivering at 35 weeks there is a high chance my inducton will fail and end in a EMCS anyway. I asked which was safest for baby and they told me a section was, but it wasn't safest for me. I have spent hours reading on the internet and in books about both. I have truly been torn.
On one hand I wanted the induction, I feel hopeful that I would react favourably to it. I don't want my only vaginal birth experience to be pushing out a dead baby. I want that romanticised birth, where I push out my screaming newborn and she is placed on my chest wriggling, and John and I gaze at her and each other adoringly. I ache for that experience. But my head is full of things that can go wrong in Labour. What if my placenta (that currently *touches wood* is working as it apparently should be) cannot handle the stress of going into labour and takes that moment to fail again? Will they monitor me enough? Will there be enough time to get her out? Would I be able to forgive myself if something happened? The answer being no, of course I wouldn't. She is too precious to take any chances with.
So, as I sat in the doctors office in tears trying to make my decision the doctor took pity on me and advised if I was even in two minds about it then I should go for the C section. So the decision was made. When it comes down to it, I want my baby here, alive, in my arms and screaming. With a planned section it will calm, collected, all the unknown elements that would come with an induction are removed - she will be out within ten minutes and we can all breathe a sigh of relief. For now. Yes my recovery will of course be slower and more awkward, yes there are risks to my own health. But there are with any form of delivery, and when it comes down to it how many women actually get that romanticised birth I am imagining? Because of my situation we are talking about delivering prematurely a 35 week baby, in this case there is no 'ideal' option because the ideal would be for her to stay put and cook a bit longer but this isn't going to happen becasue of the uncertainty of my placenta's ability to function at the end of this pregnancy. So there really is no 'right' or 'wrong' way of getting her here, but the less risky way is a section. Hence my final decision.
So with all this in mind, why do I still feel unsure? Why do I still feel that pang, that longing to just push out a baby that is alive? I keep trying to focus on the bigger picture, that I want her here alive and how she gets here is a very small and insignificant part of what I hope will be a long and happy family life together. But still I have this wistful longing. Maybe it's just that longing for normality, a 'normal' pregnancy, the normality that was forever stolen from me last year when the tragically 'abnormal' happened. Maybe. It's such a big decision to be left with, I was grateful when the doctor finally intervened.
But anyway, we have a date. I am dragging my ass slowly through each day. I am trying to be hopeful, but I still can't bring myself to get anything ready. I refuse to talk about, or make plans for Christmas. I won't pack my hospital bag, even though I know I will need it one way or the other. I won't entertain getting the pram or car seat out. I refuse to buy a single baby item. The only thing that I have bought are maternity pads. I just can't get enthusiastic. I just can't get the belief that the happy ending is round the corner. John is so excited, and it makes me nervous. I feel the pressure, his happiness is reliant on me. He has excitedly changed the chalkboard that we have been counting down on from weeks to days. 15 days he has scrawled. Please let this be so.