Mother’s Experience

Editor’s note: This article first appeared in Midwifery Today, Issue 88, Winter 2008. Subscribe to Midwifery Today Magazine “There’s the heart; everything looks okay. The placenta is over here; up here is the head.” The ultrasound probe zigzagged over my nicely rounded abdomen. It was the first time we realized that our baby was breech. It was only the 23rd week and the doctor assured us the baby was still flip-flopping around in my uterus and it had plenty of time to turn itself around before delivery. Knowing it was breech, however, got the wheels of my brain turning. I had assisted with quite a number of deliveries over a period of seven years and knew I did not want to have a breech baby. I’d witnessed ten breech births and knew it was something I hoped never to have to do. Furthermore, I was sure I knew way too much about the risks of a breech delivery to ever go into labor with confidence. With these misgivings I asked my midwife, Mary Hostetler, who’s also my grandmother, to check the baby’s position. It was breech. Oh, bother. I took it upon myself to do the slant lie. I lay

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