I went into preterm labour at 34 weeks with my first son, Jericho.  I went to the local hospital in Prince George, BC to find out if I actually was in labour (it was so mild that even with a previous natural delivery I really didn't know).  Two hours of demanding a vaginal exam (that they would not give me) later, and they found out my son was crowning.... breech.

 

Before I could even say the words, "I want a vaginal delivery" they were shaving me and putting IVs in my arms.  Even though I demanded a vaginal birth, both my mother AND my uncle were vaginal breeches, they refused me.  It was policy.  The doctor actually physically shoved his hand up inside me and PUSHED my son back into my womb (it was the most blinding, horrible pain I'd ever felt) to ensure he didn't 'accidentally' slip out while they ran me upstairs for the surgery.  That's how hard they pushed the "no breech" rule.

 

Because I had a breech birth I had a cesarean.  Because I had a cesarean, I was unconscious when my son lived and then died.  I only got to see him after his brief life was over. (He died of a birth defect - he had no kidneys - not from the surgery).

 

My daughter and my husband and my friends were there with him... but I was missing.  I didn't get to hold or touch my son until he had died, because I had a cesarean, because he was breech.  He was *crowning* when they found out, one slight push would have birthed his body.  He was only 3lbs 7oz and would have easily come out (especially since 11 months later I successfully UBAC'd [Unassisted Birth After Caesarean)] his 9+lb brother in less than 3 hours).  There was absolutely no reason to do the cesarean...