The Plan

The Plan

The Plan

You make a plan.

You’re a planner. You like to know what’s happening when it happens. That is just how you are. You don’t like surprises. You don’t like to be caught off guard.

You make a plan. 

You decide to have your last baby. You take out your Mirena in September…You get pregnant right away. And you have a baby in May. That’s the plan. Everything will work.

out the way YOU want it to because you don’t like surprises and you want things a certain way. Up until this point with your other two children, everything has gone to “plan”.

This is not the case with this one.

You do NOT get pregnant right away. It takes you months, actually. You feel broken, defeated, depressed. What is wrong with my body that I can’t get pregnant? It was so easy to get pregnant with my other children. Am I too late?

Then…bam! After a procedure where they clear out your “tubes” and you want to hump anything with a penis…you’re pregnant.

Perfect. I got this. I have a plan.

This pregnancy I’m not spitting. Mind over matter. But shit, I’m pregnant during pop up season. It’s ok. I’ll be ok. I won’t be too nauseous. I have a plan.

I can’t stop vomiting. I feel weak. I feel like the worst mom because I just want to sleep. And…is that saliva building up in my mouth?

Do. Not. Spit. it. Out. Jennifer.

Once you start…you won’t be able to stop.  But I will feel so much better if I get it out instead of swallowing.

Ok. I cave. I spit. I feel better but also feel worse. This is not part of my plan…AT ALL.

You know what else was not part of my plan?

Going on vacation in my first trimester and feeling miserable.

Having to use enemas like every other day just to have a bowel movement cause my Zofran constipated me.

Vomiting every time, I sneeze and burped.

Extreme pelvis pain because my spinal fusion has me so stiff that all the pressure of my baby is in my pelvis.

Being told that I can’t get an epidural because of where my fusion is. 

Ok. Time to start a new plan. 

New plan. I’ll give birth naturally. I can do it. I did it with my first born. And I turned out fine. And she turned out fine. As well. Minus her ADHD & Anxiety diagnosis. But she gets that from my side of the family.

I can deliver naturally, and I’ll be fine. I’ll create a birthing playlist. This delivery, I will go out with a Bang!! Ooo, I’ll go into labor naturally at 37 weeks [black Friday] because my kids never stay in past 38 and the best day to be born is Black Friday. I’ll sit on a birthing ball. I’ll breathe through the contractions. I’ll be fine.

That was the new plan. Hubby and I even went to a birthing class cause we’re preparing to deliver naturally.

Baby must not have liked that plan. Baby was breeched.

It’s ok though because most baby flip on their own. He’ll be fine. He’ll flip when he’s ready.

Time to start the lovely non stress tests. It’s part of the plan. I’ve been here before. Sit in the chair. Enjoy my alone time then go home.

It’s part of the plan.

Baby didn’t cooperate.

4 trips to Labor & Delivery because baby’s heartbeat would drop when he would move. When it should be going up. It scares the nurses enough to have me monitored further.

That is not part of the plan. That’s not part of my plan. The last time I was requested to go to L&D I asked, “what if I don’t go?!” And the nurse says “I think you really should go.

I’m glad I did.

I had a contraction while in there and baby boys heart dropped significantly.  My friend who is a L&D nurse said “you’re not going home today. We’re going to have to admit you. Call your husband.

Testing is done. Meet with the on-call anesthesiologist. No more eating or drinking for me in because they need to slice me open. I’m stressed. I’m scared. Am I having this baby…today. I’m 36 weeks and 4 days. Around the same as I was when I lost my first baby.

This is not part of my plan. I am not ready.

Baby was fine. Have my regularly scheduled appointment the next day. I can’t keep doing this. This is too much. Nothing is going to plan. I have no control over anything.

I’m in the room with my doctors’ nurse and I’m sobbing. “I feel my baby is safer outside of me than inside of me”. She begins to cry. My husband’s face is still and emotional. This pregnancy has not gone according to plan. At all.

My nurse practitioner comes in. She knows my history. We have a scheduled ECV for Black Friday. She wants to help insure I am able to have my baby Friday by stripping my membranes. They did this with Jamison, and I went into labor the same day. 

Here is the revised plan.

Strip the membranes. Friday go in and flip my baby. Once his head is down, I go into labor. I hang up my birthing banner, I sit on my ball, I play my ratchet music and deliver my baby naturally while my friend takes all the pictures so I can forever remember this moment.

She goes to strip. She can’t strip. But I am already 5cm. Huh. 5 cm dilated but I’m walking around like nothing is wrong. Oh yeah, cause his foot is there. No pressure to make it go further. Well, thanks kid.

Thursday night before my procedure. Can’t eat past midnight. Can’t drink either. I’m stressed and scared. This might be the last night I’m pregnant. Somewhere in Columbus my OB doctor is thinking of me. They don’t want women having babies earlier than 39 weeks. I am 37. She knows my history. She heard my worries in the office just the day before. She is contemplating what to do.

It’s Friday. Black Friday.

My plans have changed so many times I can’t keep out.  I am hungry, I am thirsty.  I have to be at the hospital at 11.  Ok we can do this. 

Dog to our friend’s house...check

Kids to grandparents’ house...check

Hubby drinking coffee disrespectfully...check

having a mental breakdown and facetiming my friends crying...check


We check in, we get all gowned up...the doctor comes in.

She says she was up all-night thinking of me and my situation.  she says they don’t like inducing labor on women before 39 weeks.  She says I am the exception.  Based on my history and how dilated I am right now...regardless I am having a baby. 

Yes.  My initial plan of having a Black Friday baby is going to come true!  Am I psychic? Let’s not push my luck. 

Meet with anesthesia.  He reassures me that there is a 0% chance I can have an epidural. 

Its ok.  I have planned to have a very painful vaginal delivery.  I can do hard things.

We go to the OR.  Prep for my ECV. 

Oh, did I forget to mention my L&D nurse friend?  She came in 3 hours early just to help me.  She’s going to help me deliver my last baby.  That is our plan.  

Laying on the cold OR bright.  Nothing like Grey's Anatomy.  So many doctors in one room and they are all for me.  Hubby on my right, nurse friend on my left. 2 anesthesiologists at my head and 2 OBs at my belly. 

Let’s flip this baby so I can have my vaginal birth.  That is the plan. 

That was the plan. 

My plan didn’t happen.

They tried to flip him.  The pain was excruciating.  I stopped breathing.  I am crying.  My husband is reassuring me.  The anesthesiologist is reminding me to breathe.  I can do it.  I can’t complete my plan.

I look at my husband and ask if its ok to get the c-section.  Part of me wanted his permission to give up but another part of me wanted him to tell me to stop being a little bitch and let them flip our son. 

He said for me to do what I need to do.

My plan isn't happening. 

As quickly as I am wheeled into the OR, was as quick as everyone in that room prepared to deliver my baby via c-section. 

Lidocaine is draped on me. 

Curtain is up.

Hubby is escorted out.

Pediatric team has a warming table.

My nurse friend has my phone to take pictures. 

I am counting back from 10.







It is a year later, and my son is one and I am emotional.  I am reliving this delivery.  How I missed his first cry.  How my husband got to see him before me.  How drugged up I was and was in and out of consciousness.  How my belly hurts because I was just sliced open through so many layers. 

My baby is here and healthy and I should be the happiest women ever but instead I am two glasses of wine in and all I want to do is cry. 

There is a dark cloud over my head.  My son, my last baby.  

I had a plan, and nothing went according to plan. 

He was my last baby, and I didn't get the chance to deliver him the way I wanted. 

My plan failed.  I feel like I failed. 

No one talks about PTSD from failed "plans" like this. 

The expectations vs realities.

What you want vs what you need.

A year goes by so fast, and I am sitting here emotional about all that has happened in the last year. 

A crazy unexpected delivery of my son

The worst postpartum of my life

Feeling like I failed as a mom.

Feeling like I was doing my two oldest kids a disservice by having a third baby.

Feeling like I was doing my marriage a disservice by having a third baby.

Not loving this body that is full of scars.


We don’t talk about failed plans enough.  We are encouraged to "get over it."How am I to heal if I have to keep it inside?

If that is the plan, then I want nothing to do with it.

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