I'm grateful for my daughter. I never thought I'd have kids. My life wasn't exactly unfolding in that direction. So she turned up as a huge surprise, hiccuping her way into existence. Two weeks before she was due, a midwife, whom I thought was rather stupid, couldn't work out whether my baby had turned. A scan revealed she was breech. An appointment was booked to have her turned but, after MUCH consideration and NO knowledge of what this involved, I changed my mind. Still had to hang about in the hospital for five hours waiting for the consultant so that I could TELL him I had changed my mind. The marvels of the NHS. But upon hearing other's experiences of having their babies turned, I was hugely relieved to have made this instinctive decision.
Because hospitals don't like doing surgery on Fridays (and weekends), my baby was born on a Thursday, the day before she was due. I requested that the operating theatre be kept quiet and dim, with all voices low and no extraneous chatting. Into this peaceful atmosphere, my baby emerged without a tear, fast asleep until they poked her. A single squawk and she went back to sleep again. She was the most peaceful baby on the (truly horrible, filthy, ghastly third-world) ward and went on to be an excellent sleeper.
She still is!
I am also, it must be said, grateful to that rather dim midwife. There was always a different one on duty when I had my check ups and my heart sank when I saw her. But if it hadn't been for her lack of experience and knowledge, I might never have got that scan, never have found out my baby was breech, never had that peaceful Cesarean.