A birth story, of sorts

I've been sitting on this post for a while now. I know it is the done thing to share a birth story, after a birth takes place, but I guess I have had other things on my mind and other ways to occupy my time - specifically, one beautiful little baby girl.
I started writing Juliet's birth story in the immediate days after getting home from hospital, just as I did with the two babies who came before her.
I have recorded as much detail as I can possibly remember. Specific things that happened at every step along the way, things midwives said to me, how I felt during every single moment. But it is already pages and pages long and quite possibly, boring. I realise I've written it more for me than anyone else, and perhaps Juliet one day if she chooses to read it. So I am thinking it is not really blog fodder. For now I will give you a more condensed version of all that transpired on those few days. Honestly, three weeks on I can still hardly make sense of it all or get my head around it. Some stories really are far greater than fiction.
Juliet was born by elective caesarean on Thursday 18 August at 11.29am, the day before what would have been her big sister's third birthday. This was not planned, not by a long stretch. Just like it was with her big brother, we only decided on the c/s the day before she was born when it became clear our plans for a VBAC were looking more like a pipe dream than anything else.
We had our final appointment with the obstetrician the day before at 38 weeks 2 days and at the start of the appointment, all parties were still in favour of a VBAC attempt and for waiting for nature to take it's course, as long as it was before my due date. But an internal exam showed that nothing was happening "down there" and the ultrasound once again showed we had another very big baby on our hands. We were then offered a caesarean the very next morning, if we wanted to take it. We did have one booked almost on my due date, if labour hadn't happened, but I all of a sudden didn't think I could wait those extra eight days. Anxiety had got the better of me once again.
But of course there was the date. The 18th of August. The day before Hope's birthday and the anniversary of the day she died. The day we had that awful ultrasound and where life as we knew it, ceased to exist. We simply didn't think we could have a baby on that day and we'd said all through the pregnancy, we'd do whatever we could to avoid it, including NOT scheduling an elective caesarean. We were told to go home and think about it, and to let the hospital know by 4pm of our choice, but by 11am, I already knew - I needed this baby out, date be damned. Simon wasn't as keen, but then he wasn't the pregnant one.
We arrived at hospital at 7am the following day, Angus safely in the care of my mum. There is so much I could say about all the things that happened that morning, good and bad, but the main thing is this:
Juliet arrived safe and well by repeat elective caesarean at 11.29am and:

"caesarean birth can be beautiful too."

The birth itself was far smoother than Angus' was. It took a little longer but hurt a little less. She didn't cry right away, but certainly soon enough to calm my nerves. So much of the experience was different, but parts of it were eerily similar. The first thing I said when she was held aloft before my eyes was "oh my god she looks like Angus". And she did, and still does. Not as much like her big sister, but I of course see glimpses.

She weighed eight pounds four ounces and her APGAR scores were nine and nine. She came to recovery with me and breastfed within minutes of being placed on my chest. She's fed easily and well ever since and I've avoided 99 per cent of the problems I had with feeding Angus in those early days.

We were up on the ward an hour or so after she was born and we were inundated with visitors, including an apprehensive big brother. She was passed around and admired and we were suddenly drowning in a sea of pink, and I was loving every god damn minute of it. The following day, we remembered her sister. We never ended up making plans for her birthday and in the end, it didn't matter, as there wasn't much we could have done. But the hospital were well aware of our situation and had told us the chapel was there for us to use if we wanted. And we did, just as I described in an earlier post.

So Juliet is here. She is healthy and she is alive. And when it comes to a birth story, that is really all that matters (not to mention, I'm healthy, alive and intact as well). As I said to someone recently after they asked me how the birth was, I said "I'm outcome focussed" and we got the very best outcome you could ever hope for. Another little girl born in the August, but a little girl with a heartbeat and one we could bring home with us, so in the end, the hole she emerged from was really the least of our concerns.