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‘The baby is oblique!’ exclaimed my gynaecologist during my 32-week scan. It was my first pregnancy, and I couldn’t comprehend anything. My doctor explained that my baby is in a breech position, and I have to undergo a cesarean if the baby doesn’t turn to head down position by 38 weeks. She also hinted that the chances for the breech baby to turn are significantly less.
Cesarean? The term had been a nightmare since my childhood. My mom underwent two cesareans and, as a consequence, five hernia surgeries. I’ve seen her experience a lot of pain during each surgery, which took a long recovery time. Moreover, I had witnessed my friends and relatives grumble over their never-ending back pain caused by the spinal anaesthesia injected during a cesarean. All these thoughts stressed me, and I was clueless about what was next.
My mom and relatives were equally bothered. They poured in a lot of suggestions to naturally turn the breech baby to head down position. From crawling on the ground and trying yoga poses to exposing my baby bump to different temperatures, light variations, and music beats, we turned all the stones to make it happen. But God had other plans!
At 38 weeks, the situation was still the same. I was advised of an emergency c-section due to low fluid levels. I was unhappy with what was happening to me. I unwinded myself to accept the situation and find peace. As I sat down with my eyes closed, a scene which happened early that day flashed in my brain. That morning when I went for the final scan, I met a married woman my age. She was trying to help me grab my slippers, post my scan. As we had a casual talk, I learned that she had considerable masses in her ovary, and she had to undergo surgery to remove them.
As I was recollecting those moments, unknown distress struck me. A woman of my age, with a dream of having a baby, must undergo a considerable procedure to set things right. It immediately dawned on me that my problem was just like a drop in the ocean. Many women face huge complications in conceiving a baby and fight bravely to experience the bliss of childbearing. That’s when I realised that I shouldn’t be complaining about a cesarean; instead, I should be thankful for my motherhood. I then braced myself happily to welcome my little charm via cesarean.
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