Disclaimer: I have no idea if I actually had any impact on August’s decision to go head down in my womb. So maybe a more apt title for this post is “what I did between the time that I found out my baby was breech and I found out he was head down.”
At our 20 week anatomy scan, our little baby was perfect. We could see him wiggling around, playing with the umbilical cord, opening and closing his tiny mouth. The doctor dragged a few more lines across the ultrasound image and, without much bedside manner, dropped his jaw— “this baby is huge!” He was measuring eight weeks ahead. I know that ultrasound measurements are notoriously inaccurate, and still the nervous first time mom in me panicked. Will I be able to give birth to a baby who’s two months too big? Do I have gestational diabetes? Did I do something wrong?
The doctor suggested we have another ultrasound at 28 weeks to check in on his size (in retrospect this seems absurdly unnecessary). At 28 weeks our OB lathered up my belly with the cold jelly and let out a little yelp— this baby is frank breech! She quickly demonstrated a pike position, and showed me that his feet and his head were up at my belly button and his bottom was floating above my pelvis. I started rattling off rapid fire questions: how do I get him to flip? What are the statistics on a baby finding his way down at this stage of pregnancy? Could we do a version (where the doctor manually spins the baby from the outside at the end of pregnancy)? Would a version even work for me (first time mom, anterior placenta)? Do I have to have a c-section if he stays this way or could you deliver him butt first?
She politely answered each of my questions, but I sensed hesitation in her tone. “He’s really long, so you might have less time than someone with a shorter baby to try to get him to flip.” I cried on our car ride home and wondered what I had done “wrong” and wondered if I was destined for surgery.
I did some homework, and my doula and I created a plan. Here’s what I did that I think helped.
I saw a chiropractor a LOT. I learned that babies aren’t randomly breech— they want to be head down but if we have imbalances that restrict their room and mobility, they can end up in funny positions. My pelvic bowl was all wonky, and the chiropractor worked to make it a welcoming, spacious place for him to put his head. Specifically, seek out a Webster certified Chiropractor. They specialize in pregnancy. She released a few very tight uterine ligaments and I instantly felt my belly center. I believe that the chiropractic work helped my body find better balance and my baby find his way down.
Bodywork. Similar to the Chiro— I saw my friend who is a massage therapist weekly (ended up being three times over three weeks). Because everything in our bodies is connected, I thought releasing tight muscles and fascia would help make space for him to move to the right place.
Exercise. I went swimming a few times a week and did a lot of flips. I also walked a lot. I was careful not to do any deep squats, because I didn’t want him to settle lower into my pelvis (a good idea until you know your baby’s head down, left occiput anterior at the very end of term).
I did the Spinning Babies breech protocol (lots of inversions, specific stretches. etc). Thanks, Alexa for the ironing board that I spent hours laying on :).
Pulsatilla. Under the guidance of my doula, I used the homeopathic herb pulsatilla. I don’t know how it works, but she had stories of it flipping a full term baby and I trust her implicitly.
We talked to him. Both Jake and I talked to him a lot and asked him to turn. I also meditated (you can download the meditation “turn baby turn”) which helped me relax and connect with him.
Here’s what I did that I don’t think really helped:
Acupuncture. I love acupuncture, and I personally never felt him wiggle a ton during or after like some people experience. I did love the Eastern Medicine idea that a breech or transverse baby is trying to get closer to mama’s heart when she is holding onto fear or worry. I think that my acupuncture sessions helped me examine my fears and think about how to let go of them/not burden my baby with them.
Moxa sticks. I burned the stick near my pinky toe and made my house smell like cigarettes. I was willing to try anything, and I don’t think it helped.
Ice on the top of my belly. I sat with the bottom half of my belly in a warm tub and cold peas near his head. The idea is they move away fro the cold and towards the warm. I really doubt he could feel anything, especially with my placenta in the front.
From 28-32 weeks I was in a full court press, doing everything in my power to help August find his way down. I didn’t want to look back on my pregnancy and wish I had done more or something differently. And, honestly, it was stressful. I was stressed so my husband was stressed and our lives were unnecessarily stressed. At the gym one day, my friend Liz shared a mantra she took on at the end of her pregnancy, seven words that changed my life: “I want a baby, not a birth.”
I felt my whole body relax when I said that out loud. I want a baby, not a birth. The whole point of this was to bring a beautiful, healthy life into the world. What’s the big deal if it’s via section? What's the big deal if it’s not the idyllic dream I had pictured as transformational, growth-inspiring, team-building? What If the transformational experience was actually RIGHT NOW? Could I learn to be strong, at peace, graceful with the distinct possibility of a different outcome than I had pictured? Maybe the real challenge wasn’t the pain of contractions, but the pain of uncertainty and not getting my way? I started crying talking to her. I had missed it all along. August was already teaching me so much, bringing me to my knees with humility.
I want a baby, not a birth.
I also had to trust him. Babies are breech for a reason, and sometimes it’s to protect their wellbeing. Maybe I had a heart shaped uterus and his head was stuck in one of the lobes. Maybe his umbilical cord was shorter than we thought, and he couldn't move as freely as other babies. Who knows why his head was up, but I was ready to trust him and trust the universe. It was the most relaxed I had felt in weeks.
That night, a Monday, I went to sleep and as I was drifting off I felt him wake up and start moving around as he usually did in the evenings. An hour or so later I woke up with a startle because of how big his movements were. This was the first time he had woken me up with his wiggles. I didn't think much of it until the next morning at my 32 week appointment. My OB felt where his head had been at 28 weeks and said she couldn’t tell what was there— might be a butt might be a head. I felt a wave of disappointment— he was still breech. I begged her for an ultrasound, though in my heart I knew he hadn’t moved. We snuck into the one US room while the patient using it was in the bathroom and she screamed— that’s a head!!! She then put her hand on my belly— the back of his head— and wiggled it. Instantly he responded. She showed me how I could do that to know he had stayed down there.
I of course will never know when he flipped or why he flipped. But in my gut I believe it was when I relaxed and centered myself on the point of it all. A baby, not a birth!