As I enter 32 weeks of pregnancy, I am overcome with many emotions. Most of them are happy emotions and for this I am eternally grateful, as my sense of gratitude and contentment is coupled with my health and ability to still come to work every day. About three years ago, I was not as fortunate as I am now, I was so big and uncomfortable I had to stop working two whole months before our Eli was born.
My first pregnancy was truly a life-changing event for me. When my husband and I decided we wanted to grow our family it happened quickly. Within three weeks of going off the pill, I was pregnant. Great news, for this control-freak, because it meant that my life was going exactly according to my plan. Needless to say, nine months down the line, my life took a rather different turn when my plans didn’t seem to work out as I would have liked.
It all started the day my son was born, joyous day right, for the most part yes, but for me, I felt like it was the day I failed. I couldn’t give natural birth to my bundle of joy. Instead I laboured tediously for 47 hours (latent labour) till there was no other choice but to deliver him via caesarean-section.
Now for most women this isn’t a bad thing, in fact many South African women, elect to have caesareans but for me, well I am the “super-woman-wannabee” kind of girl, so this was rather important to me.
My son was simply too big for my frame, something that my gynaecologist had warned me of, but I was just so determined. I got over the ordeal. I mean it was an ordeal to me. I did suffer from a rather bad case of baby-blues as a result, but I got over it.
Now three years later, I am pregnant again and yet again I have decided that if I can, I want to give natural birth a try. My goal is a little selfish I guess, in that perhaps I am going to prove to myself and my doctors that I can be a tiny, 1,48m’s tall person and push out a baby. I am certain that many women my size have done so successfully. I am also sure that this time round, the odds are in my favour as I am birthing a little girl (apparently, girls are meant to be smaller) this time and I am healthier, having made sure I still attend gym sessions and eat as sensibly as a hormonal woman can eat. 
Yet I worry. A vaginal-birth-after-caesarean (VBAC) is not a walk in the park. I am told that I may be able to do it as long as baby is smaller than the 3.7kg’s my son grew too, well despite my efforts mentioned above, it seems my daughter is making full use of the previously stretched womb, and she is growing rather big. Yikes! So, I ask myself daily, will she be smaller and will my frame be able to undertake this VBAC, I don’t know, I can only pray it works out. I have to rely on the wisdom and help of my doctors, midwife and my husband, my God.
Big babies are healthy babies, so why am I so worried; her growth is a good thing. At the end of the day, what’s most important is that my baby and I are healthy even if that means I may just have another caesarean. I have to remind myself that it is not the end of the world if that happens. Despite how hard I am on myself, I am the best mother to my kids and sometimes it’s not how I want to see myself but I need to believe that its’ true.
I will be just fine, no matter what birthing route I have to take, I will try my best and that’s really all that matters. That I try. Despite all these erratic emotions, I am certain of one thing, I can’t wait to hold my Amelia-Rose.
