For months I’ve prepared for a natural birth. I’ve gone to classes, hired a doula, practiced visualizations and breathing. Then at 32 weeks, I find out my little squish is breech. That’s okay, I think to myself. I went to the chiropractor, burned incense near my toes, did handstands in a pool, inversions off the side of my couch, went to yoga and belly dancing and spent my nights with a cold pack on top of my tummy, hypnotherapy tracks in my ears and a speaker at the bottom (just to name a few). Still, at 38 weeks, he’s in the same breech position.

I’m scheduled for an ECV this Sunday, though the doctor says the little stubborn bug has his head lodged pretty well under my rib cage in a “true breech”, so it doesn’t look good. A c-section is likely in my future.

I know this is beyond my control, but I’m kinda mourning the labor and delivery I thought I would have. I’m scared of the ECV, scared of the surgery, scared of the experience of having my baby pulled out of my numb stomach. I’m scared I will be missing something important having not experienced labor.

Please know, this is not meant to say anyone who has had a csection is anything less than a warrior, a person who has incredible strength and bravery. I’m simply sad and scared that this day I’ve been preparing for will be so different from the day I had been working so hard for.