We were planning a homebirth with my son, and I had an absolutely honeymoon pregnancy. Everything was just perfect until my 38 week appointment with my midwife, when she suspected that he was in a breech position, so she sent me for an ultrasound. He was footling breech, and everyone sprang into action because it was so late. My midwife transferred my care to her backup OB, who immediately sent me to her chiropractor (she called her on her cellphone right in front of me and got me in) and her acupuncturist. She gave me list of herbs to buy and yoga positions to try. Just in case, we scheduled an external cephalic version at the hospital the next day. I had various treatments that day and the next. That night at home we tried everything! Moxabustion, light, inversions, etc. Nothing worked. The next day, the version at the hospital didn't work. Undaunted, the OB scheduled another version.
Later that afternoon DH and I were running around downtown trying to find more moxabustion sticks. We finally found someone who would sell us one. We had just walked out of a health food store where I bought some pulsatilla when this huge contraction hit me. I had to stand still and hold onto the side of the building. We got the moxabustion stick and went home, because I started having regular contractions at that point. I called the OB, who instructed me to lay down, elevate my feet, and drink of ton of liquids to try to stop the labor. About three hours later the contractions were between 2-3 minutes apart, and we knew it was time to haul ass to the hospital (I wasn't going to UC a footling breech).
At the hospital things moved very, very fast. I knew that going to the hospital meant c-section, but I was ok with that decision. I was really, really nervous, but not angry or bitter, or fighting. Later, I would be devastated by the loss of my homebirth, but at the time I was at peace, and just wanted my baby safely out. C-section prep went smoothly and before I knew it, DH was holding my hand and they were taking the baby out. My OB had allowed my midwife in the OR, and instructed everyone not to announce the sex (it was a surprise). So DH stood up to watch the birth and started sobbing, "It's a boy." I started sobbing too, clutching his hand, and said, "Oh, a baby boy, a baby boy." It was the most amazing and beautiful moment of my life.
When they brought him over I was so surprised because he didn't look anything like I pictured him. He was incredibly beautiful, and had his eyes open, looking around, from the very beginning. I was holding him and nursing him about fifteen minutes later in recovery, and DH and I couldn't take our eyes off of him.
His birth story wasn't what I expected, but because it was his birth, my beautiful son, it was perfect. Just perfect.