Eight-and-a-half months pregnant, I glumly looked at my husband Can. Considering all that we had been through in this pregnancy, we should have been grateful that both the baby and I were healthy. Maybe in my hometown in Michigan, US, or somewhere in Europe, another birth option besides a cesarean would be presented. In İstanbul, however, few doctors would consider allowing a woman a vaginal birth when the baby is breech. In fact, most doctors will insist on a scheduled, planned C-section -- performed well before the woman goes into labor. My doctor and I had a frank discussion on this exact topic. As my due date crept closer, Can and I decided to try everything that we could to get this baby to turn.According to the books, by 32 weeks most babies have turned upside down in preparation for birth. Some babies, like ours, either wait until the last moment to turn, or don’t turn at all. For generations, midwives have passed down several tips to help turn a stubborn baby. I talked to my friend and doula, and she helped Can and I learn some tricks. A doula is a trained woman who helps and assists to-be parents throughout the birth process. She advised me, with Can’s help, to do some stretches where my head was lower than my body. We faithfully did these exercises three to four times a day. I also tried putting cold packs on my upper abdomen, in the hopes that the baby would feel the cold and turn away from it. None of these techniques worked.
Next, Can and I decided to try acupuncture and moxibustion. I had great results when I had acupuncture sessions to treat migraines that had plagued me two years ago. I hoped to have the same positive results this time too. We made an appointment with an expat acupuncturist, a serious woman with an office not far from our house. Can at first wanted to wait in the reception area, but she told him to come back so he could learn how perform moxibustion at home for me, as well as to learn some helpful massage and pressure points. Moxibustion is a traditional Chinese practice of burning a stick of mugwort herbs. In my case, the hot, slow burning stick would be burned close to my baby toe, as that supposedly would trigger the baby to move and turn.
My husband Can has been loosely diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD). He doesn’t require medication; we just watch his triggers and approach some things differently. As Can sat in the corner of the treatment room while needles were strategically placed in various points on my face and hands, I felt, rather than saw, Can beginning to get hyperactive. First it started with his feet, nervously tapping the floor loud enough to hear over the soft, meditational music playing in the background. By the time she had removed the needles from my pressure points and I was once again sitting up, I could visibly see Can’s legs moving. I didn’t know when, I didn’t know how, but I did know that in the not so distant future, Can was going to burst from boredom.
She then started the moxibustion treatment, burning the small, cigar-like roll of mugwort near my pinky toe. The smoldering roll was very hot, and it was tricky to keep it close to my toe so I could feel the heat but not get burned. After showing Can, she gave him the moxi stick to try. After all, he would have to do this for me twice-daily until the baby turned. Can eagerly took the stick and promptly burnt the end of my toe. I yelped in pain, and the acupuncturist snatched the moxi stick from him before he could do more damage. She sent him back to his corner seat and finished the treatment, shaking her head in disapproval. Next she asked me to move to the edge of the table. She lifted my shirt, exposing my lower back. Then she pushed on various acupressure points, and waved Can over to show him how to do the same. By this point, I knew, Can was too wired to follow directions. My fears were affirmed when his massage hurt so much both the baby and I jumped. Then, he leaned back, and slapped me across my bare back. The sound echoed throughout the office, drowning out the music.
The acupuncturist looked at us in horror. We were probably the worst-behaved couple to enter her office. Can’s face was red; he was too embarrassed to talk. I tried to make an excuse for him, claiming the slap he gave me was similar to the slap after a good massage and scrub down in the hamam. She failed to be amused. Instead, we rushed out of the room behind her as she headed towards the front desk. It was obvious she wanted to get rid of us as soon as possible. As she wrote out the instructions for my continued treatment, she lectured Can on his rough approach. My poor husband stared at his shoes, like a naughty child in school. I whispered to him, “At least you didn’t smack me when the needles were in!” I bit back laughter.
When Can and I got back to the car, I laughed so hard tears fell from my eyes. Suddenly, a strong movement from my belly caught my attention. Whether from the treatment or from my laughter, the baby was moving vigorously. Was he turning? I fervently hoped so. However, today was not just about making our baby turn. Can’s slap had brought some much-needed comic relief to our lives. We had spent so much time worrying, it had been a long time since we both shared a good laugh together, and I missed it. I made an internal vow that no matter what the coming months brought us, and no matter how stressed we would be when our son finally arrived, we would make time to laugh. Living with Can had taught me to learn to live with the unpredictable. Apparently our son was following in his footsteps. Driving back home, we wondered if we would be allowed to make a second appointment. I wasn’t too worried. We should enjoy these moments, and I was grateful for Can’s ADHD moment -- a reminder of that fact. Preparing to give birth in a foreign country carries its own stress. Additional medical problems merely add to it. I appreciated Can’s support for my alternative methods. I appreciated his just being himself and making me laugh. Maybe that is what the baby and I really needed at that time. Whether it was the moxibustion or the excitement, the baby was very active. There was nothing better than a slap on the back to revive my dormant sense of humor, and play a part in changing our attitudes for the better.
