During my 3rd pregnancy I was already the mom of a toddler. Thus, as I grew one baby I was running from class to class with another. I was active, healthy, in good shape, and took care of myself. I was in the geriatric age (ha!) of 35 so this pregnancy came with a whole bunch of extra tests. Most I passed but my gestational diabetes numbers constantly hovered. I was ok but needed to be careful. As my future son grew (we didn’t know his gender in advance either), and we got closer to the big day, my doctor told me he was breech. BUT he said, there was lots of time for him to flip. I panicked. I didn’t want a C-section. I started swimming laps and flipping in the pool like a mermaid. My mom burnt moxibustion near my toes. I spent my nights watching tv lying upside down on an ironing board. But nothing worked. He wouldn’t turn. My doctor insisted we pick a date. I cried and cried and cried. A few days later my water broke. I called the doctor and said I was packing my bag and wo...