In those days, back in the dark ages, c-sections weren't automatically offered/encouraged for breech babies as they are today, so it was just a normal labour and birth. Normal-ish.
It must have been a quiet night in the labour ward as there were three midwives in the delivery room. Because baby was breech he had to be delivered with forceps by a doctor. In this case a trainee doctor. (Four people.) Who had to be accompanied by an experienced consultant. (Five people.) In case of emergencies an anaesthetist had to be present. (Six people.) And I am convinced there were two of those too. (Seven people plus Husband and me, making nine of us.)
'We'll just fix your legs up in these stirrups.'
'And get the forceps ready.'
'Now, let's go.'
To be honest I don't remember it being any worse than my other labours and all was well when he came out.
I've heard a breech baby described as someone who will look at life differently. Elder Son tells me that in work his cheerfulness/contentment/niceness is regularly commented on. He's certainly very laid back and happy with life.
Maybe coming out bum first means that rather than saying, 'Oh no, is this the world? It looks a bit scary,' you're saying, 'This is me! Ready for an adventure!'