My Version of "The Version"

My stomach is sore.

Imagine a man six feet (plus) tall, on the large side, with very, very big and strong hands. This is my doctor, and he was pushing on my pregnant belly with his weight and the strength behind his hands for almost 15 minutes trying to get my little guy to move head first from the breech position.

Fifteen minutes might not seem like a very long time, but when someone is performing a procedure that reminds you of an exorcism, fifteen minutes is a very long time. Time that felt like it was standing still until the doctor said the sweet words, "okay, he's head down".

Two days and seven hours later, my son is still head down (as far as I can tell, anyway). Hallelujah!

Truly, it has been worth the sore stomach muscles. The deep tissue bruising that hurts every time I laugh, sneeze, or cough reminds me that I am very thankful I gave the External Cephalic Version (ECV) a try. Even if I wasn't convinced it would work since I was 38 weeks, 4 days pregnant.

Since this blog is somewhat of a journal for me, I'm ready to share the story. Maybe my story will help someone else that might have to go through the experience make the decision to try it.

I was asked to arrive at the hospital at 7:00 am in the Labor and Delivery area. I was instructed not to eat or drink anything after 12 Midnight the night before. This request was to ensure that if I needed emergency surgery, I wouldn't have anything in my stomach that would cause me to aspirate.

When I arrived, I was asked to strip down to my nuthin's, and don a very attractive hospital gown. You know the kind where your butt hangs out and they have easy access to all your parts.

Once I was situated on the hospital bed, a nurse hooked me up to a fetal and maternal monitor and started my non-stress test. This test was to track the baby's heart rate to ensure that he was healthy enough to withstand the procedure as well as to use as a gauge for when the procedure would be finished.

The nurse then took my temperature, blood pressure and then began the insertion of an I.V. catheter into my left hand. This was just another precaution in case I needed an emergency cesarean surgery. She did a good job inserting the catheter (thank goodness!), even though it was her first time using this specific catheter. She assured me she had put in hundreds of catheters, but the hospital was encouraging their nurses to try out a new model. Unfortunately, I was her guinea pig. Fortunately, she did everything fine. I didn't have any blown out veins, and she got the vein on the first try. However, the funny thing is that she forgot to clamp the tube down so when they went to draw blood for me, the blood leaked out of the end of the port. Kinda messy.

An ultrasound tech brought in an ultrasound machine and confirmed the position of the baby. The doctor was upset that a tech stayed and did an ultrasound because he didn't place an order for the tech, just an order to have an ultrasound in the room. We might have to contest these charges when the time comes because it was an error of the hospital staff. Probably a costly error.

After 45 minutes of fetal monitoring, the doctor arrived to start the version. He ordered the nurse to administer Albuterol (a Uterine Relaxant) through my catheter port to help relax my uterus so he would have an easier time rotating the baby without fighting against any contractions I might have during the process. I still laugh about the drug being a relaxant because it made my heart race and my hands shake.

A short while after the drug was administered, the doctor used an ultrasound to confirm the baby's location and to map out the plan of how to rotate the baby. Since the baby's head was directly at the top of my womb, the doctor decided to try a forward somersault. With me lying on my back, legs down and relaxed, the doctor placed one large hand on the baby's head, and another hand on his bum. He gently lifted the baby out of my pelvis, and started rotating the baby clockwise on my belly.

I knew right away that this direction wasn't going to work because immediately I felt what must have been a little foot getting caught on my pelvic bone. He just wasn't going to budge from that position. The pain is really hard to describe, but it felt so utterly weird having the baby's bone hitting on my bone. The doctor soon realized it wasn't going to work either, mostly based on my reaction and the fact that I really wanted to knee him in the face while he was trying.

He let me relax and get my composure, checked the baby's heart on the ultrasound, and decided to try the backward somersault, with the baby being rotated counter-clockwise. During this attempt, the pain was localized to an area on the right side of my body and it seemed like as the doctor was rotating the baby's head, the head was putting pressure on some organ. Who knows what organ it was, but for about two inches of rotating, the pain was very, very excruciating. This is when I had tears and felt like really screaming. Fortunately, that pain was short-lived. A small turn later and the doctor informed me that the baby was vertex. It worked.

But, at the same time, the doctor got quiet and turned to the ultrasound machine. He had been talking during the entire procedure, walking us step-by-step through what he was doing, so his silence was deafening. I asked him if everything was okay and if the baby's heart was still beating (for some reason that is where my thought process led me). The doctor assured me that the baby was fine and told me that he was just trying to reorient himself with the baby's new position in my belly after the version.

He explained that when he started, the baby was head up with his body curing around the right side of my body. So when he did the backward somersault, he would have thought that the baby would be head down with his body curving on the left side of my belly. Just like rotating a large curve. But, when he finished, it was like the baby had turned to his side and was still favoring my right side. He just had to reorient himself with where the baby was. Neither my husband nor I enjoyed that silence while it lasted, but we were reassured that everything was okay.

After the procedure was over, I was monitored for another two hours to make sure the baby didn't suffer shock from the version, to make sure my membranes didn't rupture, or my placenta didn't abrupt, etc...After the baby showed enough variability in his heart rate (lows when he rested, highs when he moved or I contracted), I was released to go home.

Walking out of the hospital, I was still amazed that the procedure was successful. I left thinking 'did that really just happen? And did it really work?'. I know that prayers were heard and answered and through a small miracle (and the power of the priesthood) the procedure was successful. The doctor also told me that I was fortunate to have my placenta on the back side of my womb instead of the front. That made it so some of the risks were lessened, and he didn't have to hassle with the placenta when he was trying to rotate the baby. He had direct access to the baby (well, through my skin at least), so to speak.

That's my version of "the Version" and I'll just reiterate that it was worth it to me. I had momentary pain from the doctor trying to rotate, and some slight lingering pain from the deeper tissue bruising and the I.V. site. Still, totally worth it.

Now, my prayers include a plea for the baby to stay put and for me to have a shot delivering him vaginally. Again, I just want a healthy baby and a healthy mom.