I don't know how to tell this story without telling everything.
First there was this.
And then, this.
I have spent five years convinced that there was something wrong with my body. When Claire was born, the doctor that delivered her suggested that perhaps the reason that she was posterior was because my pelvis was "odd shaped."
I went into Everett's birth hopeful that my odd shaped pelvis would prevail. I don't think that what I wrote when Everett was born communicates how scary that birth was. Any time apparatus is applied to those parts of your body its never good. My first look at Everett was watching his tiny head suck in and out of my body for hours while attached to said apparatus.
Having a third baby was truly a leap of faith. I thought my best chance at having a regular birth was a small baby. I prayed earnestly that she would be 7 pounds. I expected her to be face up because the others had been. I expected to push for the better part of a day because that was all that I knew. I expected Ingrid's birth to be like the apocalypse. Instead, her birth was something else entirely.
And? It turns out my pelvis is just fine.
*We'll get to the good part next, for now I have chunky little peanut to cuddle.