Or breech, as the case may be (and is).
The American Heritage Dictionary defines breach as "1a. An opening, a tear, or a rupture; b. A gap or rift, especially in or as if in a solid structure such as a dike or fortification. 2. A violation or infraction, as of a law, a legal obligation, or a promise."
Our friends at American Heritage define breech as "1. The lower rear portion of the human trunk; the buttocks. 2a. A breech presentation or delivery; 2b. A fetus in breech presentation."
I definitely find irony in all of this. I'm trying to find the humor. Give me a bit of time, I'll see what I can come up with.
For now, I feel as though the last months have torn me open, made a hole in my solid structure. I have always believed that pain and loss and trouble break us into pieces - and it's what we build with these pieces that tell the story of our life.
What does it mean that wee baby Bean is breech? In the medical sense, it means I'll be having a c-section in two and a half weeks. It means that I'll be in the hospital for 2 days instead of 1. It means that we'll face the arduous recovery from major abdonimal surgery that I had so wanted to avoid. In the ephemeral, spiritual, emotional sense, her being breech-- I'm still not sure what it means. I had so wanted her to be the one to cross the physical divide in hard labor. I had wanted to feel her body dig into mine, a physical passage for both of us into the mother/daughter relationship that we've begun. I wanted to feel her enter the world through a doorway only I could provide. I worry that the Bean is in breech postion because she is afraid to enter the world head-first, with her eyes open - that I've been too tightly wound to give her confidence in this earthly realm.
I know how selfish all of this sounds. There is nothing wrong with c-section, I know. We have so much to be thankful for in modern medicine - the fact that Bean is healthy and safe (and just wants to see the world from the easy chair of my uterus); the fact that I'm healthy and safe. The fact that the whole procedure will be done in an excellent hospital - and at least we know now, at least we can prepare, at least I don't have to go through painful labor only to have the c-section at the last minute. I am grateful. Chip is grateful.
But I'm also a little sad for the scenario that was, the scenario that won't be. I'm a little sad to not have the option. In the meantime, my dears, we'll be doing everything we can to flip this little topsy turvy girl into the right position. (I have a feeling we're going to find a good dose of HUMOR in these attempts.)
We face these things, these troubles, as they come. We do our best to be strong. We do our best to have PERSPECTIVE, to place things in their right order of importance. To not focus on one thing more than it's size would warrent. It's just... sometimes this little structure feels like I've just started rebuilding only to lose a few more vital pieces.