The Day My Baby Was Born: The Joys, Wonders, and Surprises of the Day You'll Never Forget

“the day

my baby was born ...”

“the day

my baby was born ...” The Joys, Wonders, and Surprises of the Day You’ll Never Forget

LaNita McMeekan-Cates

Copyright © 2009 by LaNita McMeekan-Cates Cover and internal design © 2009 by Sourcebooks, Inc. Cover design by Jill Lynn Design Cover images © iStockphoto.comArtisticCaptures; Getty images; baby/hand supplied by Sarah Cardillo Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc. This publication is designed to provide accurate and authoritative information in regard to the subject matter covered. It is sold with the understanding that the publisher is not engaged in rendering legal, accounting, or other professional service. If legal advice or other expert assistance is required, the services of a competent professional person should be sought.—From a Declaration of Principles Jointly Adopted by a Committee of the American Bar Association and a Committee of Publishers and Associations All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Sourcebooks, Inc., is not associated with any product or vendor in this book. Published by Sourcebooks, Inc. P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410 (630) 961-3900 Fax: (630) 961-2168 www.sourcebooks.com Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data McMeekan-Cates, LaNita. The day my baby was born: the joys, wonders, and surprises of the day you’ll never forget/ LaNita McMeekan-Cates. p. cm. 1. Childbirth—Popular works. I. Title. RG652.M382 2009 618.4—dc22 2008038833 Printed and bound in the United States of America. VP 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

This Book is Dedicated To

My husband Jason You supported me from the second I decided to write this book. When the manuscript sat in my laptop untouched for several months, you urged me to open the file and see the book through to completion. Your love and humor have made this an incredible journey. Our children Jason and Jessica The two people whom I hold dearest to my heart, who make me laugh and love beyond words. You will never understand the depth of my love for each of you—that is, until you have children of your own. The writers To all the moms who contributed their amazing stories, thereby making each birth story live forever. Your unselfishness in sharing your story will help moms for years to come. Many will relate to each of your stories, which will help guide them through the incredible miracle of childbirth. Thank you for your stories.

The doctors To Dr. Mallika Rajendran, who made the experience of having my first child awesome. I remember you wanting me to enjoy the experience, and I appreciate that. To Dr. Michele Carney for bringing my second child into the world. You were so nice and patient with me. I remember your surprise when you walked in and said, “No wonder you are screaming; you’re at a seven!” I look back and laugh at that. Thank you, Dr. Rajendran and Dr. Carney, for everything. And the rest It would be impossible to thank each member of my family and each friend individually, so I want to say thank you to everyone. Who would have thought this small-town girl from Sherrard, Illinois, would have written a book? Thanks to my mom. A special thanks to my sister Kelly and my brother Kevin. I share the memories of our childhood with my children almost daily and cherish the good ol’ days living in the middle of nowhere. Grandpa and Dad, I miss and love you both.

Acknowledgments

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would like to acknowledge some wonderful people who helped in putting this book in your hands. First, thanks to the Barbara Bova Literary Agency and my literary agent Marlene Stringer. Words cannot express how much I have appreciated your support and commitment to this book. You have been wonderful and always just a phone call or email away. Thanks also to everyone at Sourcebooks, Inc., with special thanks to my editor Sara Appino. Sara, you have always been upbeat and patient with me, which made the editing process so much easier. Finally, thanks to Peter Lynch for choosing the name of this book and for putting faith in an unknown author.

“A woman, when she is in labor, has sorrow because her hour has come; but as soon as she has given birth to the child, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world.” John 16:21

Introduction

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tories about babies being born never interested me—that is, until I became pregnant. As soon as I became pregnant with my son, I couldn’t wait to hear birthing stories from anyone who was willing to share with me. I didn’t care if that person was the cashier at the grocery store or a waitress at a restaurant—when I saw another pregnant woman or knew someone who already had children, I wanted to know every single detail and begged them not to leave anything out. This was normally when my husband magically disappeared from sight. I’ve heard people say no two births are alike, but in gathering stories, I found this to be untrue. Stories often were almost identical, and I actually had to leave many out of this book because of their similarities. Some of the stories were so amazing and unbelievable that I had to probe with questions to verify their accuracy. We usually think of babies being born in a hospital, so I was surprised to hear how many women choose home births. I also was amazed by women who were forced to make split-second decisions, and how they based those decisions solely on the health and well-being of their unborn children.

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An expectant mother has a lot of decisions to make. I hope that reading other women’s stories will help you make the best decision for you and your baby. In this book, you’ll find stories of women giving birth naturally, with no help from medications or even doctors. And you’ll read about other women who believe that medication allowed them to enjoy the experience much more. Some women feel strongly that a vaginal birth is the only way to experience the entire process and the true celebration at the end of the journey. Others who told their stories wanted C-sections, while some had no choice but to have C-sections and always regretted not experiencing vaginal birth. You will also meet women who say the first was the hardest and others who say the second was. I hope that none of these stories make you nervous, because that is not the point of this book. The purpose is to educate you based on the experiences of moms who have been in the trenches and are willing to speak openly to you about their experiences. In gathering stories for this book, I’ve met some wonderful and brave women who were kind enough to share their stories with me. Thank you to each one of them for contributing and helping expectant moms-to-be hear all sides of the miracle of childbirth.

Birthing Iris: a slight deviation from the plan Meredith Davis Dayton, Iowa

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was certain we would have our baby well before the due date, but that date came and went. It was hard to be patient. I tried so many things to induce labor. I went on daily walks, took evening primrose oil capsules to soften my cervix, and drank copious amounts of raspberry leaf tea to stimulate uterine contractions. Late on a Saturday night, six days past my due date, contractions started. I thought I would be in labor by Sunday morning for sure. I went to bed so I would be well rested for active labor, but when I got up in the morning, the contractions had stopped. It was so frustrating. On Sunday afternoon, the contractions resumed. I was able to function normally until well after I went to bed. Around midnight they became so severe that I had to breathe through them. While they had been consistently eight to twelve minutes apart since that afternoon, they began to hurt a hell of a lot worse. I sat in bed with a little lamp on and documented the frequency and duration of each one. I was too excited to sleep. Besides, the contractions were coming too quickly for me to catch a wink between them. I had an office visit scheduled for 9:30 a.m. Monday but thought maybe I should cancel and just go in when the contractions got to

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be five minutes apart. I called the clinic early Monday morning and was instructed to keep my appointment. My husband Lee stayed home from work to drive me. The midwife at the clinic finally told me what I wanted to hear. I was 3½ to 4 centimeters dilated, 80 percent effaced, and definitely in labor. Since we lived forty minutes away, she instructed me to check into the hospital, but she said I could get a bite to eat and stroll around town for a while if I wished. With all the reading I had done and the birth programs I had watched on the Discovery Channel, I knew it would be beneficial to walk around and avoid the hospital environment. That got boring, though, and we checked in around 11:00 a.m. After all, it was winter, and there was only so much to see in Kmart. So instead we spent the afternoon roaming the corridor of the birthing unit. My mom and our doula Cindy arrived around 5:00 p.m. Labor progressed very slowly. By 6:30 p.m., contractions were two to three minutes apart, but I was still at 4 centimeters. In an attempt to speed the process, I kept changing positions and stayed out of the bed. I walked, squatted, rocked my hips side to side while leaning on the bed, and got on the floor on all fours. I sat on the birthing ball, reclined in the whirlpool, took a shower, and stimulated my nipples by dragging a rough washcloth back and forth over them. For a few hours I was able to carry on normal conversations with my birth team between contractions.

As labor progressed, I became more immersed in my own world and the sensations my body was experiencing. I gradually withdrew into a state of tunnel vision. The contraction pain I experienced started out as uncomfortable pressure and escalated to an unbelievable tightening in my

Birthing Iris: a slight deviation from the plan 3

abdomen, somewhat reminiscent of gas pains. I tried to keep my moaning at a low octave as this seemed to provide more relief than higher-pitched screams. Cindy provided much needed counter-pressure on my back and reminded me to breathe. As each contraction started to build, I had to freeze in place. Any attempt to change positions or even take another stride forward made the pain much worse. If I was hunched over when one started, I had to remain in that position all the way through. The contractions became so intense that I experienced an endorphin rush after each one. I remember resting my head on the side of the tub at one point, while recovering from a contraction and wishing I could save a little of that rush for later. It was the best high ever and totally worth the pain I had endured to earn it. It was the kind of ultimate relaxation that makes your eyes roll back in your head and every muscle in your body go limp. At 9:30 p.m. I was still at 4 centimeters, so I had my midwife break my water. The intensity of the contractions picked up, and I continued trying to change positions. Fewer and fewer positions worked to ease the pain. The contractions were becoming harder to manage and started to feel like they were overlapping; a new contraction would start before the previous one ended. And I wasn’t feeling that endorphin rush anymore. I had even gotten to the point of being able to bring on a contraction merely by tilting my pelvis forward. As painful as it was, I intentionally tried to do this as often as I could, thinking these contractions felt particularly productive. I was feeling immense pressure on my bowels, which led Cindy to believe I was getting close, but nope! The midwife offered me an enema, which I reluctantly accepted. Sitting on the toilet produced the most excruciating contractions of all, and I didn’t want to have to sit there longer than absolutely necessary. After the insertion, I had to hold the suppository in for five minutes. I held it tight through two horrendous contractions before I was allowed to head

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for the toilet. I felt much better afterward though—no regrets about that decision. When I was checked at 1:30 a.m. Tuesday, I was 5 centimeters dilated—hardly the progress I had expected, given what I’d been through. Despite my desire for a drug-free labor, I decided to accept Pitocin to help speed things along. I had heard that contractions artificially strengthened by Pitocin hurt worse. Although I didn’t believe the pain could possibly get worse, I didn’t think I could handle anything more severe. I was weak-minded by this point. I had been laboring for more than twenty-five hours, and I was exhausted. I wanted to rest. Lee and I had agreed upon a code word so I could let him know that I was serious about an epidural block and that he should not to try to talk me out of it. I looked him in the eye and said, “Fajita, fajita, fajita.” I figured that if I was going to have an IV line for the Pitocin, I might as well take the epidural, too. By 2:30 a.m., the epidural was working, and I was able to rest comfortably. Internal monitors were inserted to better gauge the contractions. The nurses came every hour to check my blood pressure and monitor the contractions. Even though the epidural made me cold and itchy, I was able to get some sleep. At 7:00 a.m., I was only at 6 centimeters. The midwife explained to me that my contractions weren’t effective at opening my cervix and a Cesarean delivery might be necessary. The staff played with the Pitocin levels, and I made it to 7 centimeters by 8:00 a.m. However, the baby had turned to a posterior position, making it even less likely that my cervix would behave as it should. With limp legs, I was helped into a kneeling position over a birthing ball to try to get my baby to turn. But by 11:00 a.m., the baby hadn’t turned, and my cervix hadn’t opened any further. A Cesarean was imminent. To some extent I was relieved—relieved that my baby would be out within the hour. But I was also very upset. I was so opposed to having

Birthing Iris: a slight deviation from the plan 5

a Cesarean that I hadn’t even considered the possibility. Even though I had had a few hours of advance warning to prepare myself mentally, I had focused my energy on trying to get my baby to turn and my cervix to open. I couldn’t stop myself from crying. I was scared to undergo such invasive surgery and felt I had failed. I couldn’t help thinking that I had gotten myself into this position by having my water broken and accepting an epidural. I tried in vain to convince myself that a Cesarean was best for both the baby and me. The procedure itself went better than I had anticipated. My midwife assisted the surgeon, which made me feel more comfortable. I had not wanted to be handed off to a doctor I didn’t know and trust. I was conscious for the surgery. I asked to have my arms restrained, fearing I would freak out and cause the surgery to go terribly wrong. The staff assured me I would be fine and didn’t restrain me. Lee sat beside my head while they cut me open. That time in the operating room was the longest thirty minutes of my life. The anesthesia made me feel incredibly nauseous, and I could hardly breathe. I dry-heaved while gasping for air and felt as if my lungs had collapsed. Aside from the physical effects, I worried that gauze or instruments might mistakenly be left behind. I was assured that would not happen; the surgical staff counts everything that goes in and everything that comes out. But it was the most incredible feeling when they lifted my baby out of me. I felt as if someone had been standing on my abdomen without my knowledge and then suddenly had stepped off. It was so strange. It felt wonderful. I was very surprised by how quickly they got her out. I swear it was within five minutes of entering the operating room. The moment I saw her, I cried. She was absolutely beautiful. Lee went with her as she was taken to the nursery to be cleaned up and weighed while I was being stitched up.

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After the surgery, I was transferred to a recovery room to be monitored for an hour. My baby girl was brought to me for her first feeding. While nursing didn’t go particularly well, it was still a wonderful introduction. Nine days overdue and after thirty-five and a half hours of labor, baby Iris Amelia was finally here. I had never felt so much love in my heart. I didn’t know I could love something so much. I still cry when I think about how much I love her. The whole experience was so intense and surreal. I can’t imagine anything in my life that will be as memorable. Even though my labor and delivery was different than I had hoped, I still cherish the experience and love reliving it in my mind.

Longer second labor, drug free Laura Hubacek Brookfield, Illinois

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y due date was the first day of spring. It was a beautiful day in Chicagoland, and I planned to clean up the flower beds for the newly sprouted tulips. At 10:00 a.m., my sister-in-law called to see if there was any action, because my daughter had been born on her due date. We chatted and laughed about the likelihood of that happening again! I was in a room without a clock and periodically asked her what time it was—every eight minutes. We didn’t take long to realize that someone wanted to make an appearance. Since the contractions were mild, I gave my daughter lunch, called my husband at work, and called the doctor. Since I had a short first labor of only five hours, my doctor wanted me to come to the hospital soon. My husband works downtown, commuting by train, and he wouldn’t be home for two hours. When I called my motherin-law to watch my daughter, she said that my husband’s brother (a nurse at a different hospital) could take me to the hospital. My brother-in-law had worked 11:00 p.m. to 7:00 a.m. and then attended classes all morning. He was tired and hungry but happy to help. On the way to the hospital, we were waiting for a red light. Someone from a newly opened restaurant gave him a menu and,

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to our surprise, a sample slice of pizza. We laughed so hard about this scenario. When we arrived at the hospital at 2:00 p.m., I sent my brotherin-law home because I knew my husband would be there soon. Upon exam, I was found to be 3 centimeters dilated and 80 percent effaced. My obstetrician and the resident offered pain medication, but I declined. I asked if I could get dressed and walk around the hospital for an hour. Initially reluctant because I was alone, my obstetrician trusted my instincts and gave me the green light. If you have ever watched a laboring woman walk, you know that women in labor stop periodically to focus and breathe. Apparently the clerk in the gift shop was clueless about this, because he kept following me with a nervous look on his face. I laughed, wondering if he thought I was a thief or was just worried that my water would break in his shop. I decided to head back to Labor and Delivery, if for no other reason than to give this poor guy a break. At 3:00 p.m. the doctor ruptured my membranes and started the internal fetal monitor and IV line. (I had had complications with my first delivery and knew these interventions were warranted.) My husband arrived a few minutes later. By 5:00 p.m. I was 6 centimeters dilated and 100 percent effaced. I worked to keep in control and clung to my focal point with each breath. The contraction pattern with this labor was different from my first. This time I would have a ninety-second contraction and then a minute break, followed by a forty-five-second contraction and a two-minute break, and then the pattern would repeat. At 7:00 p.m. I was still at 6 centimeters, despite contractions that were off the charts in intensity and forcing me to change my position often. My doctor wanted to start Pitocin. I urged him to wait. The resident could not believe that I still didn’t want pain medication. He

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said he had never had a patient labor without medication. I was given one hour to progress, or Pitocin would be started. From 7:00 p.m. to 8:00 p.m., I entered an almost trance-like state, riding the contractions, breathing, and remaining focused as though that were my lifeline. The doctor, the resident, the nurse, and my husband were in the room next door, checking an NCAA basketball tournament score for just a minute, when the doctor heard my breathing change at 8:15 p.m. He knew it was showtime and confirmed that I was completely dilated.

I pushed (which felt so good) just a few times. The baby’s head was born in one push, and on the next push, the rest of his body shot out. The doctor said that he felt like Johnny Bench catching a big baseball. Our little rocket was born at 8:25 p.m. on his due date, March 20. Christopher James was 20½ inches long and weighed 7 pounds, 15½ ounces. He stayed in the hospital until he was a week old, due to jaundice, but otherwise he was healthy.

Easy pregnancy and easy labor Missy Bowen Roswell, Georgia

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y entire pregnancy was perfect, with no morning sickness or anything. Except for the round tummy and the twenty trips to the bathroom every hour, nobody would have known I was pregnant (unless they noticed all the Mexican food I ate every day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.). At my 38th-week checkup, my doctor told me I was a little more than 4 centimeters dilated and could have the baby any day. I was surprised because I wasn’t having any contractions. On my due date, December 2, I started having contractions while Christmas shopping with my sister-in-law Amber. At first I thought the baby was just moving, but every ten minutes, I felt like someone was blowing up a balloon in my stomach, letting it get bigger, and then allowing it to deflate. We went home, and I started pacing. I knew it was too soon to call the doctor, and I didn’t want to call my husband, Nathan, yet either. Amber kept timing me and walking with me every time I went into a different room. She was like a little puppy, timing me with her watch— she was so excited that she was with me. She and her husband were trying to start a family, and I think she was taking notes.

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My contractions were getting fairly strong, and around 3:00 p.m., my water broke. I knew then that I should go to the hospital. Amber drove me while I called Nathan from the car. I was having really bad contractions by then, so Amber had to talk to him. She then called my mom, her mom, and her husband. Amber was driving like a total nut. She was driving way too crazily while using her cell phone. I didn’t say anything, though, because the pain was so bad that I wanted to get to the hospital quickly. When we got there, I was in so much pain that I couldn’t even walk. Amber dropped me off inside the emergency room door and went to park the car. A nurse came over with a wheelchair and helped me sit down. On our way to the elevator, Nathan and Amber both came running in. Nathan had seen Amber parking the car and ran over thinking I was still in it. I thought for sure I was going to have the baby while sitting in the wheelchair in the elevator, but thank God, we made it to a room. When the doctor on call checked me, I was already at 10 centimeters. After just ten minutes of pushing, our perfect baby boy was born at 3:32 p.m. He weighed 6 pounds, 1 ounce, and was 19 inches long. Nathan was so proud. We had decided to name the baby after him if it was a boy. My husband was the first to hold our baby Nathan after they cleaned him up and did all the stuff they do. My husband told me how proud he was of me. I couldn’t believe that labor and delivery had happened so fast—and with no pain medication. I hope that when I’m pregnant again, it happens exactly the same way.

My second baby was more difficult than my first Allison McGee Houston, Mississippi

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s soon as I found out I was pregnant with my second child, I just knew it was a little boy. My due date fell during my first semester of nursing school, but a month before that, I went into labor and dilated to 3 centimeters. I was scared of having my baby early, but thankfully I didn’t. During the remaining four weeks of my pregnancy, I was totally miserable. I was having contractions constantly, but since I was under so much stress, my body couldn’t regulate them. One week before I was due, my doctor asked if I wanted to be induced the day before my due date of November 16. I quickly agreed. The night before being induced, I took something to help me sleep. Although I knew what to expect, the worst thought was having the contractions. But I knew that after tomorrow, I would have a beautiful baby boy. I was also scared that I might have to have a C-section. I thought I’d be okay with it, but I felt that major abdominal surgery like that should be avoided at all costs, unless it was medically necessary. When I arrived at the hospital the next day, the technicians needed two hours to get the Pitocin drip going. They had to stick me five

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times to get the IV line started. I finally told the last technician that if he couldn’t get it going, I was heading home. Needless to say, they finally got me started on Pitocin. Then, around 9:00 a.m., the doctor came and broke my water. This is the strangest feeling because you want to stop all the gushing water that is coming out of you, but you can’t. I don’t like to be wet, so I had my mother change my pads constantly. But the more I moved, the more I became soaking wet. After that, I started cramping a little and had the nurse check me. I wanted to make sure I got my epidural block early, because I didn’t want to suffer like I did with my first baby. When I made it to 4 centimeters dilated, I told the nurse I wanted the epidural. But after receiving it, I got sick. This was because my blood pressure bottomed out and I got very nauseous. That only lasted for a little while, and then I didn’t feel anything. I knew my legs were there, but I could barely move them.

For five hours after they started the Pitocin drip, I watched The Golden Girls on TV. My mother thought they weren’t giving me enough Pitocin because the monitor wasn’t picking up any contractions. She called the nurse, but by the time the nurse arrived I had started cramping. When the nurse checked me, I was 9½ centimeters dilated, so they started to put my legs in the stirrups. That is a really awkward position, because your bottom is in midair and everyone in the room can see it. I only pushed for fifteen minutes, but the last eight minutes were simply horrible. The baby got his shoulders stuck behind my pelvic bone, and his head was out before the doctor

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realized it. When the head is out, there is only so long before the shoulders have to be delivered, because the baby’s oxygen supply is being cut off. So the doctor called for three nurses to help push him out. Two nurses held my legs to my chest, while a third nurse got on the bed on top of my stomach and pushed on it. In the background, my mother was cheering me on. She said, “Just think about all those cute little clothes you are going to be able to get back into!” I have to give her some credit—she tried. My son was delivered with a big bruise on his face because his shoulders were delivered much later than his head. He was 8 pounds, 4 ounces, and healthy.

Baby born on due date Ally Channing Waterloo, Iowa

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y pregnancy was rough compared to those of all my girlfriends. I seemed to have all-day sickness, severely swollen ankles, and aches and pains all the time. I started out at about 130 pounds on my 5'6" body, but by week thirty-five, I weighed 169 pounds. By week forty, I killed the scale at 184 pounds. I couldn’t believe I had gained 54 pounds! During my weekly checkup at forty weeks, my doctor said she would strip my membranes if I wanted her to. This procedure has been known to induce labor within forty-eight to seventy-two hours. I agreed, but it did hurt when she scraped me, which is normal. I also started spotting and felt cramps for the rest of the day and night. I went home—and waited and waited. Two days later, I finally felt my first contraction. It’s funny because I actually stopped and held my breath. It was like when people feel something, and then stop and ask, “Was that an earthquake?” New moms ask, “Was that a contraction?” The contractions continued all morning and afternoon. Around 7:00 p.m. they started getting really strong. They were approximately six to seven minutes apart, and they

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lasted forty seconds. My husband Brad called the hospital, and they told us to come in. We checked in around 8 p.m., and they put me in a room. After the nurse left, we didn’t see her or anyone else for another thirty minutes. That was frustrating because I didn’t know what was going on or what I should be doing. When the nurse finally came back, she hooked me up to a machine and checked me. I was 4 centimeters dilated, which probably explained the pain. She inserted a capsule called Cervidil to soften my cervix and told me to lie still for one hour. She also mentioned that sometimes two to four applications of Cervidil are needed before things get started. Well, not for me; one was all it took! By 10:00 p.m., I was almost 6 centimeters dilated, and contractions were one minute apart. When I was 7 centimeters dilated, I asked for some medication. They gave me Stadol, which lasted for about an hour.

By 8 centimeters, I just couldn’t take the pain anymore. Now, don’t get me wrong; I was not planning on going natural at all. I had always assumed I would have an epidural block or any drug within arm’s reach. But until this point, the pain was still bearable. I know this sounds weird, but I actually wanted to experience some of the pain. The contractions were roughly forty-five seconds apart and lasting for about forty-five seconds. I asked for an epidural and got it around 1:00 a.m. Going from 8 to 10 centimeters took me another seven hours! I never dreamed it would take so long for 2 little centimeters, but it did. The nurse broke my water around 5:00 a.m. At 8:00 a.m. it was time to push. I pushed for about thirty

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minutes. I actually could feel the baby inside me coming out, and I felt her head pop out of me. It was so strange, but my advice to moms is not to push with the contraction but with the pressure; push with your butt. The pushing wasn’t so bad, but I was so tired. I had been awake since 7:00 a.m. the previous day, so I was a little testy, to say the least. Finally Emma Cole was born. She weighed 8 pounds, 12 ounces, and was 21½ inches long. She was so beautiful, but she had a little cone head. Other than that, she was gorgeous and still is to this day!

First baby born at home Nancy Hatcher Missoula, Montana

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ur big day started on November 2 when I was thirty-eight weeks along with my first baby. It was a cold winter day in Montana, so I was so glad I had decided to have our baby at home in the warmth of our surroundings. I woke up around 5:00 a.m. to go to the bathroom and noticed I had a bloody show. I knew what it was, so I calmly wiped myself and then noticed my amniotic fluid was leaking. This was our big day, and I was so excited. I put on a pad and woke my husband Travis. He jumped out of bed, gave me a big hug, and went to start a pot of coffee. I called our midwife Connie, who said she would be there by 7:00 a.m. I also called my mom and two sisters. Travis’s family lived three hours away and wouldn’t come immediately, but we still called to update them. My contractions started at exactly 6:30 a.m. They were about five minutes apart and lasted the whole morning. Connie showed up at 7:10 a.m. and checked me. She said I was 3 centimeters dilated and that it could be a long day. She could stay with me, she said, or come back around noon and check me again. I told her to leave, because my mom and sisters were on their way and I knew I would be fine.

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My mom and sisters arrived with tons of boxes and bags, and I felt great. I loved having women around me during this time, especially since all of them had gone through this before. Travis timed my contractions all morning, and they gradually kept getting stronger and stronger. I could handle them because of the support from my husband and family. They kept breathing slowly with me, and we made it a real team effort. Connie called at 10:30 a.m. My mom told her that I was moaning really loudly and that I was in really bad pain, so Connie said she would come over right away. When Connie got there, she found me on my hands and knees with my butt in the air. That was the only position in which I felt comfortable. As soon as Connie started to check me, I felt the urge to push and told her so. Sure enough, the baby was crowning. Connie instructed me to push with each contraction, and the buzz in the room was incredible. My one sister had the video camera, and my other sister had the camera. My mom was holding my leg, and my husband was on the other side coaching me. I pushed for thirty minutes, but it actually felt like three. Suddenly the head came through, and the rest of his body just slid out so easily. It was a boy! The room exploded with clapping and laughing and tears. I held our new son, and we cried. It was remarkable because I couldn’t believe this little guy had just been inside me minutes earlier. It was very surreal. Travis waited until Connie said he could cut the cord, and then he held his new son. Connie finished helping me deliver the afterbirth and then gave me some Motrin. When she was finished, she took our son to clean him up and do all the necessary checks on him.

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My mom and sister helped me up, and I took a shower. I was sore and moved very slowly. After I got dressed and came back out, I found Travis holding our son in the rocking chair in the nursery. They were bonding, and it made me cry. I went in and shut the door behind me so we could have some time alone. Travis got up and gave our son to me, and I breast-fed him. Two hours later, we came out, and my mom was cooking chicken Alfredo, my favorite. There was champagne, chocolate cake, cheesecake (also my favorite), and strawberries—and gifts galore. We announced our son’s name: Evan Sean Hatcher.

The birth of my baby Carson Brenda Allen Columbia, South Carolina

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n November 3, I went in for my thirty-ninth-week appointment. My doctor said everything was looking great and was glad to hear the baby was moving. He said that the baby was head down, which was also a good sign. I hadn’t dilated at all, which was a huge disappointment because I had been praying to already be at 9 centimeters when I came in! Wouldn’t that have been nice? I made another appointment for the following week. Four days later, my water broke while I was going to the bathroom. I got so excited that I called my husband Paul at work and told him to come home. I called the hospital and told them I was coming in because my water had broken. They asked how far apart my contractions were, and I was like, “Huh?” “Well, I’m not having contractions, but my water broke,” I repeated merrily, hoping that the excitement in my voice would make them say, “Well, come on in.” Well, that is not what they said. They said to stay home, get some rest, and call back when the contractions were five minutes apart. I was so disappointed. I called Paul on his cell phone and said there was no reason to come home. He said he still wanted

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to and would be home in thirty minutes. Paul and I waited all day, but I didn’t feel any contractions. After waiting five hours, I thought for sure something was wrong, so Paul and I drove to the hospital. They weren’t too happy to see me. They were swamped with women in labor and told me that, since I wasn’t having contractions, I wasn’t in labor. I asked if they could at least check to see if I was dilated. I thought, “Boy, won’t they be sorry when they find out I’ve dilated to a seven!” They quickly checked me and told me that I was only at a one. I felt like a total idiot. The nurse told me to go home and try to sleep. She said she would call when things slowed down to check on me. If nothing had happened by 8:00 p.m., I should come back, she said, and they would try to get my cervix to thin out with prostaglandin gel. So at 8:00 p.m., we went back to the hospital. They put in an IV line to give me medication because my water had broken. They also inserted the gel, and we went back home. The next morning, nothing was happening, so I called back. The nurse told me to come in and they would try the gel again. She said that things were slower that day, so this time they could keep me there. She had me walking up and down the hallway for almost three hours. I started feeling contractions during the second hour of the walk, and by the third, I was hurting bad. The “three-hour cruise,” as we now call it, helped a little because I was finally dilated to a huge…two! The doctor on call came to see me and said I could be started on Pitocin to speed things along. I said yes but that I also wanted an epidural block because of the pain. The doctor said he wanted to wait another few hours to see my progress before administering the Pitocin with an epidural. He did give me Demerol, which helped a little.

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At 11:45 a.m. I was at a big 4 centimeters. They started me on Pitocin, and I had an epidural. Although I was expecting something horrible, the epidural injection didn’t hurt at all. They kept the Pitocin level high to try to get me to dilate more than 4 centimeters. I really wanted to take a nap, and since nothing was happening, Paul ran home to let our dogs out and to leave a key with our neighbors so they could take care of our dogs while we were at the hospital. By 2:00 p.m. I was only at 5 centimeters. The doctor said that if I didn’t progress in the next three or four hours, they would consider a C-section. About an hour later, the Pitocin suddenly kicked in.

I had dilated to 8 centimeters by 4:00 p.m. and to 10 by 4:45 p.m. It was game time! I started pushing at 4:45 p.m. and kept pushing for twenty minutes. My baby’s head got stuck, so the doctor had to use the vacuum extractor to help get her down the birth canal. At 5:12 p.m., my daughter Carson Anne was born weighing 6 pounds, 3 ounces, and measuring 9½ inches long. I had torn from the pushing and had to have seven stitches, but that was okay with me. My baby girl was healthy and beautiful and worth it. I think I had it pretty good, and we hope we can do it all over again. We’ve been trying again, but nothing yet. We’ll keep trying, but we’ll be happy if we just have Carson.

Our big surprise! Trina Hollander Sarasota, Florida

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hen I found out I was pregnant with our first child, I was so scared and happy. I was torn because one part of me was scared silly about having to push a baby out of me, while the other part was excited to have my own little piece of heaven. We decided to find out the sex of our baby and were thrilled that we were having a girl. We chose the name Kelly Ann and bought everything in pink and lavender. We had her bedroom painted with a princess theme and had “Kelly” put on everything. I started feeling contractions around 4:00 a.m., which were about ten minutes apart. By 7:00 a.m., they were five minutes apart, so I woke my husband up. We called the doctor’s office, and they told us to come in. We took showers and were all ready. Then, as I was walking out to our SUV, my water broke! My husband said he would just run back in and get a towel, but I was like, “Are you kidding me?” I ran like a turtle back into the house, got back in the shower, washed from the waist down, and then put on two pads. My husband was freaking out and couldn’t believe my vanity. “Did ya just meet me today, buddy?” I asked.

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Labor was rough on the way to the hospital, and I was in major pain. My husband had the nerve to tell me that we would already be at the hospital and I would not be in this pain, if I hadn’t taken another shower and put on clean clothes. The labor was harder than I had thought it would be. To be honest, I don’t know what I was expecting, but the pain was bad. The nurses were great to me, which made everything much better. I was relieved that I had a team of nurses who seemed to enjoy their jobs and were so supportive of me. I was dilated to 5 centimeters when I asked for an epidural block. Of course, after I got it, I was in a much better condition and actually enjoyed the whole birthing experience much more. At 9:30 p.m., I had finally dilated to 10 centimeters, and it was time to push. Wow, was I ever ready for this! I pushed for about twenty minutes, and out came our beautiful boy! We were in a state of shock.

I honestly thought I had delivered the wrong baby and that they needed to look for my baby. The reality didn’t sink in until fifteen or twenty minutes later as I kept staring at our new son. All I could think about was the pink princess room waiting for him at home and how I was going to have to tell everyone about the mistake! The nurses thought it was hilarious, and if I hadn’t liked all of them so much, I would have been insulted. My husband went out and bought a new denim diaper bag and a blue outfit to take Kevin home in. Only over his dead body would he allow his son to come home in a pink-and-white dress, my husband said. It took us about three months to sell the princess items. (I had washed everything and thrown away the

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receipts.) We painted the room with an all-sports theme to cover up the pretty pink. We are thrilled to have Kevin in our lives. He is now 18 months, and we love every minute of him. I’m expecting another “Kelly” (so they tell me) in October. We’ll see…but I’m not painting or buying anything this time.

Jakson’s birth story Cristina Ramirez Milwaukee, Wisconsin

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n Wednesday, January 18, I looked at the clock as I woke up and saw it was 12:30 a.m. I hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in months because the baby was taking up so much room that my bladder couldn’t make it through a full night. That morning something felt totally different, however. I had thought I was having Braxton Hicks contractions the previous evening, but what I felt now was much more intense. My entire pelvis felt a strong squeezing pressure. Not only were these contractions more intense, but they also seemed to be coming quite often. Still half asleep, I decided to halfheartedly time them. “No way could I be in labor,” I thought. The baby wasn’t due until January 29, two weeks away, and since this was my first baby, I wasn’t really expecting him or her to make an entrance until February. However, to my surprise, the contractions were coming every five minutes. Throughout my pregnancy, I had heard people say that they were unsure when labor started. I could not understand how that could be, but I completely understood it now. Regular contractions kept making me catch my breath in the middle of the night as I searched the Internet for clues as to whether I was really in labor.

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I paced the house and continued to time my contractions—five minutes apart, then four. At 4:00 a.m., I finally tiptoed back into our bedroom and whispered to my husband Dan, “I think I might be in labor.” He helped me time the contractions, packed bags for the hospital, ran to the store for snacks, and encouraged me to eat some oatmeal. I could barely finish it because the contractions were taking all of my concentration. When the contractions were two minutes apart, we called our midwife, who told us to go to the hospital. She said she would meet us once they knew whether I would be staying or not. The ride to the hospital was excruciating! Every bump in the road intensified the pain of the contractions. As we pulled up to the hospital, I kept thinking that we were coming here as two and leaving as three. I was amazed to think that the baby we had excitedly anticipated would be here soon. This whole journey of pregnancy was coming to an end, and a new, completely unknown path was opening up quickly before us. Two previous miscarriages had cast a sad cloud over our lives and made us even more grateful for this baby—the baby that we were going to meet very soon! At the hospital I was checked to see if I had progressed far enough to be admitted. To my surprise, I was only 2 centimeters dilated, the same as at my regular prenatal checkup the day before. I almost cried! I felt like my body had been doing so much work during the past few hours that I surely would be farther along than that. They admitted us anyway because the contractions were two to three minutes apart, and we called my mom to come to the hospital. While our belongings were being moved to the labor and delivery room, Dan and I walked around the maternity ward to help make progress. Our pace was incredibly slow, and every few minutes I leaned up against the wall as the contractions took over my entire body. We eventually made our way to our room, where I was shocked to see all the equipment set up for a baby.

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Obviously I knew why we were there, but I had trouble comprehending that the wiggly baby who had been kicking my ribs would soon be lying on the scale. The next few hours were a blur of pain and emotion. Dan and I had taken classes in the Bradley Method of natural childbirth, and I intended to get through labor and delivery without an epidural or any other pain medication. My contractions stayed regular at two minutes apart and were lasting about a minute. That meant I wasn’t getting much rest in between. Dan and my mom took turns rubbing my back and neck as I leaned on counters, the bed, and their shoulders. Walking and standing felt better than sitting or lying down. Rocking on my feet gave me some relief and helped me though each contraction. The contractions were increasing in intensity to a point that I couldn’t have imagined earlier in the day. I felt like I was an out-of-control observer of this job that my body had to do. It was scary to think that I couldn’t stop it or slow it down. My entire pelvis felt like it was imploding, and the feeling radiated out and down my legs. The sensation was strange—it was painful, but not like any pain I had ever experienced. It didn’t hurt like getting hit with a hammer in the shins would hurt, but it was such an all-encompassing pain that it took over every thought, every breath, and every movement. I labored for hours, first walking around the room and later in a huge tub with jets, which seemed to help. The midwife broke my water because it wasn’t breaking on its own and my labor was progressing slowly. I never got the sensation that I needed to push like I had heard about. But when I was 10 centimeters dilated, I decided that I wanted to start pushing because I really wanted this labor to end.

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Pushing was a whole new level of intensity! I tried sitting while pushing, but that wasn’t moving the baby, so I tried squatting with a squat bar. I could feel the sensation of my baby moving down the birth canal—what a strange feeling! I could feel the roundness of my baby’s head in every inch of the birth canal as it traveled down. It was such an odd sensation of fullness, and I kept telling everyone in the room, “It feels like something is in there!” They laughed because of course there was, but it again was so surprising and amazing to me that this was really happening! Eventually the baby’s head came into view, and I reached down and felt the little round head (which felt huge) covered with lots of wet hair. Every push would bring more of the head into view, and then it would slide back. Dan and my mom were encouraging me, and I could see the excitement and worry on their faces. After a while the midwife realized this baby was stuck, and she performed an episiotomy, which was something I had wanted to avoid. At this point though, they could have done anything to me—I just wanted this baby out! The midwife made the cut, which I really didn’t feel, and told me to push again. This push finally moved the baby’s head out, and the exhilaration I felt in the room was amazing! One more push and the baby’s body slipped out, and the midwife quickly laid the baby on my stomach. It was 4:19 p.m. I had been in labor for sixteen hours and had pushed for three of those hours. I was so exhausted that all I wanted to do was cry with relief that it was over. My arms were wrapped around this brand-new little person, but someone had to remind me to look at the baby. It took probably a full ten seconds to realize that we didn’t know the sex. “What is it?” I asked. “I think it’s a boy!” Dan said. I had a feeling when I was pregnant that I was having a girl, so I was shocked, but at that moment I couldn’t imagine anything

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more perfect than having a son. Dan cut the umbilical cord, and I stared at my little boy as they rubbed him while he lay on my chest. My mom was smiling and crying, and Dan looked happy but overwhelmed. They wrapped up the baby, and I breast-fed him for the first time. He latched on right away, and I was overcome with the fact that this was my baby—the baby I had prayed for, hoped for, and dreamed about. We decided to name him Jakson. I look back on that day every day as I nurse and rock Jakson to sleep. Sharing his birth with Dan and my mom was even more incredible than I had imagined. His birth changed me—changed how I look at my own mom and changed how I think of myself. With help from Dan and my mom, I brought this amazing little boy into the world without any pain medication, and I am so proud of that. Every pain that I experienced that day helped me to connect with the process that brought my perfect little boy into the world. As he drifts to sleep, I often think that no matter how painful and difficult that joyous day was, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Fast labor Sara Hankes Brandon, Wisconsin

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y entire pregnancy went very well. I never had any problems. The baby was growing well and seemed perfectly healthy. She was incredibly active, and everyone in my prepared childbirth class would laugh at my belly. She seemed to be having a three-ring circus inside me! A week after I began maternity leave, Lilly made her appearance in the world. I thought that I had lost my mucous plug that Sunday afternoon. I had been terrified that I wouldn’t be able to identify it, but it looked almost like egg whites. I hardly noticed when that happened, but I knew that the time was getting close. That night, I was at my friend Michelle’s house, just playing cards. Honestly, I didn’t feel a thing, other than Lilly kicking like crazy and being as active as usual. We stayed up late, and by the time I got to bed, it was 12:45 a.m. I found a comfortable position right before I felt a strange pain in the side of my belly. I still can’t figure out what that pain was. It was very dull, but it didn’t feel like a contraction. Suddenly, I felt something snap inside me, and I remembered my mom telling me that all of her labors started with something popping or snapping.

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I scrambled to my feet, more because I was startled than because I had a plan of action. When I looked at the clock, it was a little after 1:00 a.m. I stood for a moment, and suddenly my water gushed all over my pajamas and all over the floor. A few moments went by, but I didn’t feel any contractions. I called the hospital and told them that my water had broken but I didn’t feel anything yet. The nurse told me that, if I liked, I could stay home for a few more hours. I called my fiancé Jesse and asked him to come home from work. Almost immediately after I got off the phone with him, my contractions began. They lasted for about thirty seconds each and were five minutes apart. They weren’t very strong, so I didn’t think much of it. But every time I felt that slight tightening, more water began to gush out. If that water hadn’t come out, I would hardly have been able to tell I was having contractions. I waddled around the house, trying to find my hospital bag so it would be ready if I needed it. I also wanted to change my clothes. By the time Jesse got home, my contractions were about a minute and a half to two minutes apart, but they still weren’t very painful. I was busy timing my contractions while Jesse called the hospital. Since my contractions were so close together, the nurse said we should come straight to the hospital. On the way there, I made phone calls to tell everyone that we were having the baby. I called my mom to ask if she wanted to be in the delivery room, and she said yes. We had discussed this earlier, but she had to work early that morning and I didn’t know if she’d still want to be there. At the hospital, they immediately wheeled me to a birthing room. The nurse who was helping me was the same one who had taught my childbirth class. She checked me for dilation and found that I was at 5 centimeters and that the baby’s head was extremely low. I was surprised because the contractions weren’t very bad, but that changed quickly.

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The nurse was helping me breathe through the contractions, and I asked for an epidural block. From everything I had heard from friends about epidurals, they are a lifesaver! I had planned to go as long as I could naturally and then get an epidural when I needed it. That idea had been my security blanket throughout my pregnancy whenever I thought about the impending pain of labor. When the nurse checked me, I had dilated to 7 centimeters. She administered an IV and called the anesthesiologist, but she also took out some of the supplies needed for delivery and noted that things were going faster than expected. I didn’t care too much about that. I just wanted a break from the contractions, which were beginning to overlap each other.

I was squeezing Jesse’s hand so hard that, when I opened my eyes once, he had a look of pure shock frozen on his face. I would have laughed, but I definitely wasn’t finding humor in much of anything at that point. For some reason, the anesthesiologist was taking forever to get to the hospital. When he finally arrived, he explained to me about administering the epidural and asked me to move to the edge of the bed after my next contraction. My nurse helped me, but suddenly, as somebody was rubbing iodine all over my back, I felt an overwhelming urge to push. I had had that feeling before, but I didn’t recognize until just then that I really needed to push. I mentioned it to the nurse, and then she wanted me to lie back in bed when I had just scooted my way up. She suddenly announced that I was dilated to 10 centimeters! Just after they discovered how far my labor had progressed, my mom walked in the door. I hardly even noticed her entrance until the nurse exclaimed to her, “We are having a baby soon!”

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The anesthesiologist packed up his equipment, wished me luck, and left. I was terrified! Considering that I had planned on the epidural throughout my pregnancy, I had never thought of the possibility of going through labor without any pain relief. I wanted to cry, I wanted to panic, but all I did was beg the anesthesiologist not to leave. The nurses contacted the obstetrician on call, and then we had to wait for him to show up. With every minute that passed, the urge to push grew stronger and stronger. I kept asking if I could push, and all of the nurses kept telling me not to push because the doctor wasn’t there yet. After what felt like an eternity, he finally got to the hospital. One of the nurses poked her head in the door to say that he was just suiting up. At that point, I didn’t care if he was wearing a half-million-dollar tuxedo. I just wanted him to come in so that I could push out the baby! The nurses instructed Jesse to hold one of my legs up, and the nurse who had instructed my classes held the other one up. They let me push softly but told me not to push too much, because the baby was very low. I was fighting the urge to “power push” so much that I didn’t realize I was pushing my legs off their arms while they were trying to hold them up! I had no idea I was doing it until they told me to stop pushing off. Finally, the doctor arrived. Everybody began to coach me on pushing and kept asking me to push harder and harder. The contractions felt so much better after I was allowed to push! Holding back on pushing had made everything feel a thousand times worse, but now everyone was great about encouraging me. I honestly didn’t think I had the strength to push with that much intensity. Before I went into labor, I had been afraid of feeling her come out. As she was

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crowning, I did feel a burning sensation, but I almost welcomed that in contrast to the terrible feeling of the contractions. I don’t think I pushed for more than ten minutes before my Lilly was born at 4:05 a.m.! From the beginning to the end, I only had to endure three hours of labor, and I ended up with a beautiful gift. Lilly weighed 6 pounds, 9 ounces, and was 19½ inches long. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and she was worth every intense, painful contraction. Jesse and I named her Lillian after my grandmother. I had to wait quite a while for the doctor to stitch me up before I could snuggle with her. I felt deliriously strange while I nursed her for the first time. I couldn’t believe that I had actually done it and that she was finally in my arms.

Hurry up, Doc! Harmony T. Hamilton, Texas

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started having contractions late on a Friday night. I slept through the night, but I had to keep getting up to go to the bathroom. About 6:30 a.m., the contractions started coming every ten minutes. I called the hospital, but they said that as long as I was comfortable, I should stay at home. My husband Damon and I finally left for the hospital around noon, when the contractions were five minutes apart. While we were on the way to the hospital, which is thirty minutes away, the contractions started coming three minutes apart. We got to the hospital, and my water broke around 1:30 p.m. From there, things moved fast. My doctor went out to make phone calls when I was at 7 or 8 centimeters, and in five minutes, a nurse had to call him in because I was already at nine and a half. I started pushing around 3:30 p.m. After two hours of pushing, the doctor finally decided that my baby wasn’t coming out. He was “sunny side up,” as she called it, and basically had gotten stuck. They had to call in the anesthesiologist and another doctor to assist with a C-section. This was during one big Texas thunderstorm, and they had to give me one shot to stop the contractions and another for the

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pain. Since both the doctor and the anesthesiologist were caught in the thunderstorm, they took a lot longer than expected to arrive. While we were waiting, the contractions started again. I had never experienced that kind of pain. Besides having contractions, I had all the pressure of my baby sitting on my pelvic bone. When the doctor and the anesthesiologist finally got there, I chose to be totally put under while they did the C-section. The other doctor had to push my baby vaginally while my doctor pulled him up out of the C-section incision. They wouldn’t let Damon into the operating room because I was unconscious, but he got to go into the nursery with the baby while they cleaned him up. When I woke up in recovery, the first thing I heard was my grandmother saying we had a beautiful baby boy. He was born at 7:08 p.m. Saturday, November 20, weighing 8 pounds and 1 ounce.

Extremely easy first delivery Paige Nelson Moore, Oklahoma

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was due April 26, but my due date approached and passed. I went to my doctor on April 30, and nothing. He said to wait until the next appointment, and then, if nothing was happening, we would talk about our options. On May 4, my doctor said he wanted to induce me since I still hadn’t started to dilate. If I hadn’t had the baby yet, I was to come at 7:00 a.m. on May 6 to be induced. We called our friends and family and told them what was happening. What was strange was I had always planned for my mom to be in the delivery room. She had always said she would be there with me, and I had never said no. But as I listened to her go on and on about making sure I packed certain items, telling me that she was bringing the camera, reminding me not to forget the car seat, and saying she would get the baby announcements with the date and time of the birth and help me fill them out in the hospital…I decided I really didn’t want her there. The problem was that I didn’t know how to tell her. I only wanted my husband Eric to be with me, especially since this was our first baby. I didn’t know what to expect with labor and the pain, and I

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just didn’t want my mom there controlling everything during this special event in my life. My mom really lets her opinion be known, and I’d always gone along with what she wanted, even if I didn’t agree with her. My mom had picked out my wedding dress and our wedding cake and the invitations. My mom had approved the guest list for the reception and decided on the menu. She had already controlled a lot with the pregnancy, too. She didn’t like any of the baby names that Eric and I liked, and kept pushing for Carolyn, her middle name. My mom knew Eric and I had decided to buy a dark oak crib and dresser for the baby. But the second I mentioned that to her, I regretted it. Sure enough, the next day a white crib, two dressers, a changing table, and three white shelves were delivered to our house. She said that white would go with everything.

To spare my mom’s feelings, I decided I would simply have to lie to her. I called her the night before the scheduled induction and told her that my doctor had realized that he already had three patients the next morning and didn’t want me to be neglected or sent to another doctor. Because he wanted to deliver my baby, I told her, my doctor had rescheduled my induction for 6:00 p.m. when he only had one other patient there. My mother said, “No problem,” and agreed to meet us there at 6:00 p.m. The guilt kicked in after I hung up, and I cried to Eric. I kept saying I was a horrible daughter and that my mom was going to be devastated when she found out she missed the birth. Eric calmed me down and convinced me that this was my day. I was giving birth, so I should choose who I wanted there. He said I shouldn’t let anyone take this wonderful experience away from

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me. I felt like Scarlett O’Hara when she said, “I’ll just think about it tomorrow.” Eric and I arrived at the hospital at 6:50 a.m. A nurse checked me, and I was excited to learn that I had actually dilated to 2 centimeters. She gave me Cervidil to help ripen my cervix. It definitely helped a little, because an hour later I was almost at a three. The nurse started a Pitocin drip, and that kicked the contractions into high gear, along with the pain. When my doctor came to check on me about five minutes later, he said I was at a five and progressing wonderfully. He went ahead and broke my water. I was in a ton of pain, so I asked for an epidural block. My doctor told the nurse to arrange that. Twenty minutes later, the anesthesiologist came in and made my life pure heaven! I asked my nurse to let me know when I was at an eight. She agreed and said she would also let the other nurses know. Eric and I had decided that when I was at an eight, he would call my mother and tell her that my water had broken and he had rushed me to the hospital. We figured by the time she got there, I would have already given birth or would be so close that it wouldn’t matter if she was there. Three hours later (around 1:00 p.m.), the nurse said I was at an eight and would probably be at a ten within the next hour or two. Eric and I decided to wait just one more hour and then call regardless, which is exactly what he did. At 2:15 p.m. he called my mom and told her that my water had broken earlier in the morning, that I started having really bad contractions, and that he had rushed me to the hospital. My mom, of course, asked when all of this happened. Eric didn’t have the answer at first because I hadn’t told him what else to say. So he said it happened around 10:00 a.m. Eric said she was really angry because he hadn’t called

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her sooner. She wanted to know why she was just hearing this from him at 2:15 p.m. My sweet Eric got so nervous that he said he had to get back to me and hung up. By the time Eric got back to my room, I was almost at a ten, so the stirrups were up and my doctor had been paged. I was told that my doctor was checking another woman but would be on his way in five to ten minutes. The nurses wanted me to practice pushing from my butt and not my stomach, as my girlfriends had told me to do.

I didn’t feel anything because of the epidural, but the experience was amazing. I kept absorbing each minute and tried to memorize everything that was happening and being said. It was so surreal, which I hear a lot of women say. I was giving birth. I had only pushed for five minutes when my doctor came in and helped me. Another ten minutes of pushing, and my daughter Caden was born. My doctor gave Caden to me, and I held her closely and was totally amazed that I was finally holding her. Eric cut the umbilical cord, which was harder than he thought it would be. He thought it was going to be like on TV where it looks like they are simply cutting a piece of string. After he tried without much success, my doctor held it for him and told him to cut really hard as if it were rubber. Mission accomplished! My doctor had me push several more times for my placenta to come out. I did tear during the delivery of my daughter and had to have stitches. I felt the tugging as the doctor placed the stitches and actually started freaking out a little. I tried focusing on our daughter, but out of the corner of my eye, I kept seeing him pull his hand up with the needle. I asked my husband to put a pillow between me and my doctor so I couldn’t see anything.

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That’s when my mom came rushing into the room with her purse and camera. She only saw the doctor sitting down and Eric, because Eric still had the pillow between me and the doctor. I peeked around the pillow and said, “Hi, Mom,” and boy, did she have the “deer in the headlights” look! She walked toward me looking upset, but then she realized I was holding a baby. Her hands flew to her face as she said, “Oh, my God.” I handed Caden to her, and her face softened. I told her Caden’s name, and then the questions started flying. Why we hadn’t called her earlier? When exactly did my water break? Didn’t we own two cell phones—and couldn’t we have used one of them to call her? During this Q&A session, I noticed that my doctor was really quiet and finished up quickly. After fielding questions, I told my mom that I was extremely tired and was going to be placed in a different room. I told her that I was hungry and really wanted to eat while Eric bonded with Caden. I said she could come to the room to visit with us for an hour, and then I very bravely told her that Eric and I wanted to be alone with Caden to bond after that, but she could come back after dinner to visit some more. Now Eric had the “deer in the headlights” look. After having a baby, I suddenly felt brave and confident. Of course, my mom didn’t listen to a word that I said. She said she would be happy to sit and hold Caden while Eric and I talked. I told her again that Eric and I wanted to sit and hold Caden and talk privately. I repeated that she could stay for an hour, but then we wanted to be alone. My mom didn’t like the firmness of my voice or the fact that this was happening in front of several nurses. She kissed Caden on the forehead and handed her back to me while announcing that she had a headache and would come back tomorrow after my hormones had returned to normal. My mom did come back the next day. She was calmer and seemed to listen more. I asked where my dad was, and she said he had to

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run some errands. My wonderful father showed up minutes later with several pink stuffed animals for Caden, as well as a dozen pink roses for her and a dozen for me. My dad also gave me, his only daughter, a two-carat solitaire diamond necklace. He gave his new granddaughter a matching one-carat necklace. He said it would mean the world to him if she wore it on her wedding day. Dads! How much do you love them? Caden is doing great and is so much fun. I love her more and more each day. There is nothing like the love between a parent and child. While my husband’s and my love has reached the highest plateau, the love for our child continues to grow daily. You actually think you love a child as much as you can, and then the next day you love her more. My mom is much better but can still be pushy. It’s a daily struggle, and I’m guessing it always will be. Caden was born at 2:58 p.m. on May 6. She weighed 6 pounds, 9 ounces, and was 20 inches long.

My second birth just as wonderful as the first Rachel R. Beverly, Massachusetts

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he day I went into labor was a fairly uneventful day. My son Colwyn and I hung around and did all our usual stuff. My mom came home early, so we went downstairs to visit around 6:00 p.m. About a half hour after sitting down, I felt a distinct popping feeling inside. My first thought was that it was my water breaking, since that’s what a lot of people describe, but nothing happened afterwards. As I sat there, I started to think that maybe my water wouldn’t actually start leaking until I stood up, so I started planning my escape route. I told my mom I had to go upstairs and pee, and could she please watch Colwyn for me.

Right after I stood, I felt a small gush, so I made a beeline for the stairs and ran into my bathroom. Sure enough, my water had broken. There was a bit of meconium in it, so I called the doctor’s office right away, knowing that they would want me to come in.

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I stood around waiting for the doctor to call me back, and even though I had the phone in my hand and was staring at it intently, my mom still somehow managed to pick up the phone when it rang. For some reason, my mom figured the doctor was a telemarketer and told him I had gone to pick up my husband from work. The doctor was very surprised, naturally, and asked why I had done that if my water had just broken. My mom flipped out, apologized profusely, and ran upstairs to tell me to pick up the phone. I asked the doctor if it would be okay to wait twenty minutes until my husband Doug’s train got in, and he said it would be fine to just go to the hospital right afterward. When I got off the phone, Mom was nearly beside herself and asked me what she needed to get. I’m not sure what she was thinking, but I told her that she didn’t need to get anything, but could she please keep watching Colwyn while I got ready. I still had to pack some things into the hospital bag. I kind of dillydallied a bit because I didn’t want to deal with my mom hovering, and I still regret not spending more of those last few minutes with Colwyn before going to the hospital. Colwyn and I picked up Doug at the train and then drove to the hospital. I gave Colwyn huge hugs and kisses good-bye as I got out of the car, knowing that the next time I saw him, he wouldn’t be an only child any more. I had a hard time keeping a smile on my face so that he wouldn’t get worried. Doug took Colwyn home to put him to bed, while I went upstairs to Labor and Delivery. It’s funny how, even while in labor, you still think of your child first. I wanted to make sure everything stayed as normal as possible for Colwyn. They hooked me up to all the monitors and then checked to make sure my water had actually broken. I was having contractions about four minutes apart, but they weren’t strong at all. I got comfortable and started watching TV while waiting for Doug. He came up at

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around 8:10 p.m. while I was still just having mild contractions. They started to pick up in strength soon after, though, and by 9:30 p.m. I said I wanted to have my IV line put in so I could have an epidural block soon. The covering doctor checked me at 10:30 p.m., but I was only 2 centimeters dilated and 100 percent effaced. The contractions were fairly uncomfortable by then, so I told him that I’d like the epidural as soon as possible, since I was having a hard time relaxing. I mentioned how, with my first, I took forever to dilate to 3 centimeters, but then after I had the epidural, I progressed really fast—which I attribute to finally being able to relax. Unfortunately, the anesthesiologist was in the OR, so the nurse said we’d have to wait about an hour. When I was checked again around 11:15 p.m., I was still at 2 centimeters. I was really frustrated and vocalizing it a lot by then because the contractions were extremely painful. I didn’t understand how, with that much pain, I could still be at 2 centimeters. After an hour of waiting for the anesthesiologist, the nurse said that he might be another hour, but that they would try to get the backup doctor to come in from home. I felt a smidge guilty about that, but I really needed relief from the pain. I was in such a fog that I don’t remember much about the time between the pain really intensifying and getting the epidural. I did doze off between contractions from time to time because I was so exhausted. Finally at 12:30 a.m., the anesthesiologist showed up. She was nice enough, but a bit gruff. She didn’t take nearly as long to place the catheter as the doctor I had the first time, so that was good. Trying not to move at all was still horrible, though. The epidural was in place and I was feeling fantastic by 1:00 a.m. When the nurse checked me at 1:50 a.m., I was 6 to 7 centimeters dilated. Talk about proving my point.

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They didn’t check me again until 2:30 a.m., when I was almost fully dilated except for a little lip on one side. About fifteen minutes later, I started feeling a need to push. They let me try a few times to see if I could push the cervix out of the way, but it wasn’t working. It wasn’t until about 3:20 a.m. that they let me push for real. Pushing took a bit longer to get started this time—I pushed two or three times without feeling the baby moving down at all. To be honest, I was holding back because I was a bit embarrassed about passing a bowel movement. Doug was holding my feet and had a great view, unlike during Colwyn’s birth when he stayed up near my head. Finally I realized that the baby wasn’t going to come out unless I gave it my all. I felt him moving down quickly and knew he’d be born soon. The nurses started rushing around to get the doctor and the NICU team ready because of the meconium. One nurse was actually holding the baby’s head in while I tried desperately and somewhat unsuccessfully not to push. I could feel a lot more this time than I had felt with Colwyn. Then, I had felt the pressure of him coming out, but no pain. But this time I felt nearly everything, and I was a bit loud about it. It was a very primal sort of feeling. Finally everyone was in place, and they let me push again. I wanted to be able to see the baby being born, but we didn’t have time for that. Doug did get a good view, and I loved hearing him exclaim as the baby was coming out. (I can’t for the life of me remember exactly what he said, though.) Lachlann Halldor was finally born at 3:42 a.m. Thank God for all the baby shows I’ve seen, because they didn’t let him cry right away, and I probably would’ve been really worried if I didn’t know what to expect. They suctioned him out and cut the cord quickly, and then they whisked him over to the warming area for a more thorough suctioning. I only got a glimpse of him—all I noticed was that he looked really long for a newborn.

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He started crying after a few minutes, though I had been crying since he had been born. It was such an incredible feeling to have just given birth to a baby I had carried for nine months. In a way, it meant more to me emotionally this time, because I knew how much I would love this baby and how much I would worry about him and obsess over him and all the other things you do when you’re a parent. It took them about ten to fifteen minutes to get him cleaned up, while I got a few stitches. The doctor said I had just a little “paper cut” tear going upward an inch or two and a tiny tear in the other direction. He congratulated me on having such good self-control and preventing a bad tear. They weighed Lachlann and measured him before bringing him to me—he was 7 pounds, 12 ounces, and 20 inches long. I was expecting him to be so much bigger than Colwyn was, but when they brought Lachlann to me, I was shocked at how tiny he looked. We got about an hour and a half to cuddle, nurse, and call our family. They brought Lachlann up to the nursery for his bath at 5:30 a.m., and Doug headed home to take a short nap and then get Colwyn up. Shortly after, I was allowed to get out of bed, pee, and clean up. They brought me up to Maternity, and I was in bed dozing by 6:30 a.m. I know no two births are alike, but I was still surprised at how different my two children’s births were. I had nothing but good memories of Colwyn’s birth—mainly because I got an epidural early. With Lachlann, I had to wait for so long in such pain. While I really enjoyed everything after the epidural kicked in, especially the pushing stage, the pain of the contractions colored the experience in a negative way. After Colwyn was born, I couldn’t wait to do it all again. After Lachlann was born…well… I’m a little nervous about going through that

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another time. Of course, it was worth it, because Lachlann is a complete doll. And in reality, giving birth is an experience that is so beyond anything else. Pushing a baby out of my body with all my might was an incredibly empowering and transforming event. To look at my children and know that I nourished them for nine months in my belly, accomplished the seemingly impossible feat of pushing a baby out of a hole the size of a quarter, and then to have nourished their bodies, their minds, and their spirits ever since…well, I can’t think of anything greater.

A different water birth than expected Erika Ginsberg-Klemmt Longboat Key, Florida

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y husband Achim and I already had a boy and a girl, and I was convinced that was enough crew for our live-aboard lifestyle on the sailboat Pangaea, our floating home. But over the years, my husband gently put the idea in my head that having a third deckhand would be nice—especially if that third would be a girl, and especially if the girl’s name would be Maeva. Most every night I would try to convince him that we had two hands, one for our boy, one for our girl, and that we should quit while ahead. In his silent non-acquiescence, I could see the captain’s vision would not be moved. On passage between Grenada and Tobago, I decided to give my contraception pills a short break to allow my body to regulate itself. In early May, one month after that decision, Maeva Margarita was conceived on the waters of Isla Margarita, off the coast of Venezuela. What a shock to learn that not only can you get pregnant within one month of going off the pill, but that the likelihood of having twins is much greater if you conceive this way! Then we would really have to get a bigger sailboat. Our family left our sailboat Pangaea on Isla Margarita for the hurricane season and moved in September to Sarasota, where Achim

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joined a software developer. I was grateful to find Rosemary’s Birthing Home in a beautiful colonial house on Central Avenue. The in-house midwife Heidi Dahlborg was wonderful in helping make sure our insurance would cover all costs. The facility had a beautiful birthing pool in a romantic room with all the birthing paraphernalia anyone could need. And should any complications arise, the hospital was only ten minutes away. A water birth sounded perfect, and I was ready for it, or so I thought. On a Saturday evening, Heidi informed me that I had a leak of amniotic fluid. In other words, my water had broken, but it was a very small, slow leak. Although my due date was three days away, and I had no contractions to speak of, any rupture of amniotic membranes was a mandatory reason to check in with the hospital. This was policy because if fluid can come out, bacteria can get in—and it’s only a matter of time before infection can jeopardize a baby and mother. In other words, I needed to go into active labor within the next twenty-four hours, or my water birth would be canceled and I would be shipped off to Sarasota Memorial. Not the worst scenario in the world, Achim insisted. After all, weren’t most babies born in the hospital? Weren’t our first two, for that matter? But in my mind I was determined to keep my beloved birthing center. I went back to the boat with all sorts of products to induce labor, including castor oil and Black Cohosh herbs. Turns out I didn’t need any of them, just a positive mental attitude and a mantra: “It is time!” Achim retired to the back cabin with a terrible headache (don’t they always get them at the worst possible times?), and the kids snored away in the forepeak. I, in the meantime, did the dishes to the tunes of Madonna’s Immaculate Collection, happy to notice something like contractions coming on. Every time I felt one, I closed my eyes, tweaked my nipples (a surefire oxytocin-producing activity), and said my mantra. By the

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time the album had played through and the Rice Krispies treats gunk was scraped from the pan, I felt labor had begun and called my midwife. It was 3:30 a.m. “So, when do you want to come in?” Heidi asked. I did my math. If my first child took more than eighteen hours and my second more than six hours, then ninety minutes shouldn’t be too long, so I told her we would be at the center by 4:30 a.m. I made sure everything was properly packed and that the kids had their lunches ready for school. Meanwhile, my contractions were getting stronger, and I wrenched Achim out of bed to bring the stuff and the kids to the car. That was when things really started. Achim had helped me through both of my first two births, and he knew more or less how to handle me when I was having a contraction. But suddenly they were so strong, and they didn’t seem to let up after sixty seconds like they always did. On my knees, holding on to him, I insisted that this was harder than I had thought, that I was scared…all the same words I had uttered going into transition with the first two! By the time he got the kids out of bed, I knew the baby would be born right there on board. “Get a sheet!” I announced, wedging myself between the chart table and the motor hatch. Did he even know where the sheets were? Not the genoa sheets (the lines running from the loose corner of the sail back to the cockpit); the bedsheets! Despite what may seem in hindsight like a horrific situation, an amazing calm came over me. I felt the transition fly into push mode. Achim didn’t have time to wash his hands or select the more used sheets. “Do you see her head?” I asked. Thankfully he had watched the birthing videos a number of times and knew what to do, should the cord be wrapped around her neck, which was the case, but not dangerously.

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Maeva slipped into his hands right in front of our children, who thought it was the most natural thing in the world. “So that’s what Maeva looks like,” exclaimed our four-year-old son Ari. I heard Maeva’s little cry, and her breathing began almost immediately. I laid there stunned, proud, and glowing, on the starboard floor of the main cabin, nursing my newborn while Achim called the midwife to inform her of the other kind of water birth that had just taken place. The dim lighting, the friendly, homey atmosphere, the minimal discomfort, the good music and positive vibes…they all contributed to my most pleasant birth experience—and my last one, I’m sure! By the next day, everyone in Longboat Key Moorings seemed to know I had a new baby. I took Maeva to the potluck later that week to show her off to all our neighbors, and she was quite the central attraction. After all, babies aren’t born on a boat at Longboat Key every day!

The birth of my angel Kylee Faith Stephanie Wiseman Piketon, Ohio

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was due on July 28. By the end of June, my legs, feet, and hands had tripled in size. Shoes were a thing of the past, and socks were even hard to fit. My wedding band is a size 7½, but my finger was so swollen that I had to use my dad’s old wedding band, which is a size 11. Unlike a lot of pregnant women, I never really had any anxiety about the birth. The pain wasn’t a concern for some reason. All I can remember dreading was the IV. Having a needle stuck into the back of my hand really bothered me. When I went to the doctor on July 7, I was already 4 centimeters dilated and 85 percent effaced. I was very surprised and a little bit worried. After all, I was only at thirty-six weeks and didn’t want the baby to be born prematurely. But they assured me that everything would be fine and I might even stay that way for a couple more weeks. At 9:00 a.m. on July 9, I started feeling little pains, but they were not what I thought labor pains would feel like. My aunt and I were at work at my stepdad’s construction company, and we started timing the pains at fifteen minutes apart. I called my mom, and within fifteen minutes, she was there, too. I think she was more nervous than anybody.

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The contractions, for lack of a better word, got to be about six minutes apart around 10:30 a.m., but they weren’t painful, just a little uncomfortable at most. We decided it was time to load up my vehicle and head to the hospital. My mom kept a running log of my contractions to put in Kylee’s baby book. Having her asking every little bit, “Are you having one? Are you having one?” really started to get on my nerves, but it was something for her to do to keep from getting too nervous. We had to stop by my house to pick up the video camera and my suitcase, which I had forgotten to carry in my car. After mentally checking off everything we needed, we got back into the car and started to back out of the driveway. Crunch! My aunt had set my suitcase behind the car to put in the back, but no one had loaded it. We ran over it and broke the bottle of perfume I had packed. After we had a good laugh, I went inside, packed another suitcase, and climbed back in the car. By this time, my contractions were four minutes apart. We arrived at the hospital and went to the maternity ward. They hooked me up to monitors to measure my contractions and told me to get comfortable. I was still feeling very little discomfort, so I sat up and kept talking to my family. A nurse came in about twenty minutes later. She told me that nothing was showing up on the monitors and that I would have to lie down flat. I did, and within thirty minutes, my contractions were about one to two minutes apart, and I was 5 centimeters dilated. I decided it was time to call my husband, whom I had completely forgotten! Once he got there, everything started to seem real. He was so nervous and excited. I, on the other hand, felt very calm. I couldn’t wait for everything to be over and our new life to begin as a family of three.

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The doctor came in to break my water. That was very weird, but after my water broke, the pace started to pick up. About an hour later, they asked if I wanted an epidural block. I was a little surprised because I really wasn’t in any pain, but I didn’t want to miss the window of opportunity. The epidural process was not what I had expected. The worst part was the numbing shot they gave first. It was like a bee sting in the middle of the back. Unfortunately, the epidural only acted on the left half of my lower body. I stalled at 95 percent effaced, so they hooked me up to a Pitocin drip. Finally the real labor started. Ice-cold washcloths comforted me, and after an hour and a half, I was ready to push.

People were cheering and telling me to keep going. I didn’t know if I was giving birth or getting ready to score a touchdown! After twenty minutes, my angel was born. They asked my husband, who has an extremely weak stomach, if he wanted to cut the umbilical cord. He had been standing at the top of the bed with his head buried in my mother’s back during the birth. He replied, “No, thanks. I don’t even want to see it.” So my mother cut the cord, which tickled her to death. We named our daughter Kylee Faith. My stepdad’s middle name is Kyle, and my biological dad’s middle name is Lee, so she is named after both of them. Faith is what it took to get her here. After trying for more than a year to get pregnant, we had all but given up. But we were truly blessed. I owe my relatively easy pregnancy, labor, and birthing experience to a very supportive family, a loving husband, and a wonderful doctor. During my labor, all I could think about was 7-Up and Jell-O. These aren’t things I usually eat, but my doctor kept telling me that as soon as it was over, he would get them for me.

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I really didn’t believe him, but it gave me a little incentive. About ten minutes after Kylee was born, my doctor brought me a Sprite and two cups of Jell-O from the hospital cafeteria. What a wonderful man! Giving birth was a truly wonderful experience, and now I have an angel in my life every day.

Thirty-two-week preemie after bed rest Marsha Hammond Lawton, Oklahoma

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y husband and I weren’t planning to have kids for at least another two years. But when I found out I was unexpectedly pregnant, we were thrilled. A friend recommended her obstetrician, and I loved her immediately. I had some spotting during the first trimester, but other than that, I breezed all the way through the first half of my second trimester. At sixteen weeks, I had an abnormal result on my alphafetoprotein (AFP) test and some other minor complications. My doctor suggested a Level II ultrasound and an amniocentesis. Fortunately, neither of these revealed any abnormalities. So once again, things seemed fine. When my third trimester came, I was swollen all over. My face, fingers, and ankles—and I think even my hair—were swollen. I simply looked like a mess. My blood pressure was normal, and other than the unattractive and uncomfortable swelling, I felt good. Around the beginning of my thirtieth week, I noticed that the baby felt lower than before and I was having soft cramps. I didn’t know at the time that I was experiencing lightening. The baby had dropped, and those soft cramps were early labor pains. I

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didn’t see any reason to call the doctor because I thought this was just normal. By the next morning, I was spotting lightly and the cramps had turned into contractions. I called the doctor’s office and told them that I was spotting and having contractions, that I had had a migraine for almost two days, and that I was only thirty weeks along. I was told to come in immediately. My doctor checked me and said I wasn’t dilated at all. The baby was fine with a perfect heart rate. The doctor put me on strict bed rest, and also gave me betamethasone to help develop the baby’s lungs and other medication to help stop the contractions. At the beginning of my thirty-second week, my water broke at 3:00 a.m. while I was walking to the bathroom. I yelled for my husband, and he rushed me to the hospital. When my doctor checked me, she said I was definitely in labor and that she couldn’t stop it. I had dilated to a six. After ten hours of labor and with an epidural block, which I highly recommend to any woman in labor, I delivered a 5-pound, 12-ounce boy. He was born on March 2, and was tiny and adorable. Our baby spent almost three weeks on oxygen in the neonatal intensive care unit so that he could develop his lungs enough to breathe on his own. We finally got to hold him when he was eight days old, which was wonderful. Today he is five months old and doing wonderfully. He is a good baby and perfectly normal and happy. We plan on trying to give him a brother or sister in the next six months or so.

Too easy to be a first Toni Williams Austin, Texas

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hen I found out I was pregnant, I was beyond thrilled. I was twenty-seven years old, and my husband Jimmy and I had been trying for three months. We had wanted to wait another year or so, but then Jimmy’s dad Robert was diagnosed with throat cancer, and the prognosis wasn’t good. My husband wanted his dad to see his first grandbaby before he died, so we pushed up our pregnancy plans. My due date was April 3. On April 1, I woke up feeling like I had wet myself. It took me a second to realize that my water had broken. My husband was in the shower getting ready for work, so I went in and told him. As soon as he was done, I jumped in and cleaned myself off. While I was in the shower, Jimmy called the hospital and our parents. I got out and got dressed, and we drove to the hospital. I felt my first contraction while we were driving. Within three minutes, I felt the next one, which lasted forty seconds. I was getting really scared and told Jimmy to drive faster. Unfortunately, this time of the morning was rush hour. The trip to the hospital took thirty-five minutes, and I was

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screaming during contractions by the time we arrived. We checked in, and they put me in a room. The nurse helped me put a nightgown on and get into bed. But while I was trying to get into bed, I had three contractions in two minutes. I just kept standing there on the side of the bed having contraction after contraction. When I finally was on the bed, I told the nurse I had to push. She checked me and said that I was at a ten. “Go ahead and push once,” she told me. She watched me push, and I guess nothing was happening, because she said to push again, then again, and again. Fast forward an hour and a half, and I was still pushing. I was exhausted, but the pain wasn’t as bad as it had been earlier. I don’t know why, but I’m guessing that I just didn’t have time to think about it any more. I was busy trying to get a baby out of me. At 9:48 a.m., my son was born. He weighed 9 pounds even and was 21 inches long, so he was a big baby! It was April Fool’s Day, so at first I thought the nurse was teasing me about his size, but she wasn’t. We named him Robert James after Jimmy’s dad and Jimmy. Our families were in the waiting room and, after the baby was cleaned up and we were in our room, they came to see me.

They brought the baby in, and we let Robert hold him first. He cried while holding his namesake, and then everyone starting crying and taking pictures. It was sad and heartwarming. I needed quite a few stitches because my doctor had given me an episiotomy. I wasn’t surprised, considering how big the baby was and how long I had pushed. RJ is a wonderful baby, and his grandpa holds him all the time. Robert comes over just to hold RJ so I can sleep and get things done. Robert still has cancer, and we don’t know how much longer he will live, but he is determined to spend his remaining time holding RJ.

C-section wasn’t as bad as I expected Vickie Freeman Cleveland, Ohio

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y story starts with a day out on the boardwalk with my thenboyfriend Andrew. We had stopped at a pool hall to have a quick drink, but as soon as I took the first sip, I knew something was wrong. I just couldn’t stomach it. We stopped at the drugstore on the way home and bought an early pregnancy test. I took the test at home, and as the second little pink line showed up, I stared at it in amazement. I walked out of the bathroom and just showed the test to Andrew. “Okay, what’s that mean?” “It means that you’re gonna be a daddy,” I said. He just walked away, in shock. The first phone call went to my sister, who had a one-monthold baby herself. She was not as surprised as I thought she would be. The next big problem: how in the world was I going to break this news to my mother? I was twenty-three years old, unmarried, and going out with Andrew, who was not her favorite person at the time. Eventually I worked up the nerve to tell her, but someone had already spilled the beans. After an initial day or two of shock, she

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became my biggest help. Once the news had finally sunk in, I ignored all of the warnings to wait until the end of the first trimester to make an announcement and told everyone I knew. I was given a due date of March 5. The first words out of my mouth were, “This baby is going to be born on Leap Day.” The next nine months flew by. I went to my last doctor’s appointment on February 27. No dilation, no nothing! I asked the doctor to induce me, because I just couldn’t take it anymore. This was a big baby, and he had no more room! She said that she couldn’t induce me, but she would “strip the membranes,” which might start the labor process. Any little bit helps, I thought. This procedure may have been more painful than my actual labor, but I started having contractions about an hour later. I called everyone and said that I was having the baby. I was wrong. The contractions lasted all of that evening, all night, and the next morning. While they were coming every five to seven minutes, they weren’t very strong or painful, so I just lived through them. I continued writing the thank-you notes from my baby shower and didn’t think much about them. Andrew had to be at work at 2:00 p.m., so he went, cell phone in hand, and called me every hour, on the hour. I talked to my doctor, who said that if the contractions weren’t very painful, they probably weren’t anything to worry about. At about 6:00 p.m., my contractions were a little stronger, although still not very painful, but they were coming every one and a half to two minutes. I called Andrew, who made the thirty-minute drive home in about ten minutes. My doctor told me to walk around for a while, since the contractions were starting to trail off and come back every five minutes or so. We decided to go to the mall. I have no idea what possessed us to go to the mall with me in labor, but it was a bad decision.

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You don’t want to deal with a building full of loud, obnoxious teenagers when you are having a baby! I’d gone there because I needed socks and wanted cute ones. Obviously I wasn’t in my right mind. While at the mall, I happened to meet my mother, who was there to see a movie. I told her that I would call her if I was admitted, and Andrew and I left for the hospital. That was the longest ride I have ever taken. Every bump killed me! When we got to the hospital, I was preadmitted and given some tests. The resident doctor was less than pleasant and tried to send me home. At one point, he suggested that I was faking contractions (how the heck do you do that?) so that I could get pain medication. I requested a new doctor and was admitted once the pain got so bad that I started vomiting. I was given Demerol, which didn’t do much for the pain but made me tired enough to get some much needed rest. At about 5:00 a.m. on February 29 (Leap Day), my mother and sister got to the hospital, and we called Andrew’s family to tell them to start their drive from out of town. Our baby was on the way! At that point, all progress stopped. The Demerol wasn’t doing anything for the pain any more, so I requested an epidural block. I was at almost 4 centimeters. The doctor warned me that progress sometimes slows after the epidural is placed, but I needed it, so I got it. My mother went to the store to kill some time and didn’t return for almost four hours. She was afraid that she was going to miss the birth, but she didn’t even come close. I never got past 4 centimeters. At around 5:30 p.m., I was told that they were going to perform an emergency C-section. This scared me because my sister, who had given birth to her son nine months earlier, had a horrible experience with her C-section. She says that she felt everything. I was trying not to cry on my way into the operating room, while they sent Andrew off to get changed. When they tried to start the surgery before Andrew got back, I

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flipped. There was no way I was going to go through this without him. Unfortunately, he was so amazed by the whole process of surgery that he wasn’t much help to me anyway. At one point, he said, “I can see your ovaries! All of your insides are sitting on your stomach.” To this day, I don’t want to know how much of that was true.

My anesthesiologist was my best friend. At one point, I got nauseous, and he put something in my IV line that made the feeling disappear in a matter of seconds. At 6:09 p.m. on February 29, Ayden Elias Soloman Freeman was born, all 8 pounds, 9 ounces, and 21 inches of him. Initially I felt a little guilty that I had the C-section, but the doctor said that I would have needed one anyway. Ayden just wasn’t going to fit. However, Ayden was completely awake and alert from the start. He actually smiled at my sister and was “talking” to my mom less than an hour after birth. After the surgery, I was shaking horribly and afraid to hold Ayden, so he was passed around to all of the family and friends that were there. I couldn’t hold him until hours later, and as soon as I picked him up, a nurse came in to check him out. She said that he was breathing rather fast, so she wanted to take him to the nursery to check his lungs. She said that he would be right back. Andrew had gone into the bathroom to take a shower. About thirty minutes later, a nurse came in and told me that Ayden was taken to the neonatal intensive care unit because they thought he might have pneumonia. Of course, this was not what I needed. At 2:00 a.m. I was on the phone with my mother, bawling my eyes out and telling her that my baby was in intensive care. Ayden spent the next three days in Cleveland’s Rainbow Babies

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and Children Hospital. If nothing else, that sped up my recovery time. Hell hath no fury like a mom who can’t get to her baby! I had no choice but to get out of bed and walk to the NICU, which was in a separate hospital, attached by a tunnel. Visiting the NICU was a sobering experience. All of those tiny preemies and other sick little infants couldn’t fend for themselves— and there was my big, almost 9-pound baby. If I felt guilty about anything, it was the amount of attention that Ayden got there. The nurses couldn’t usually hold the babies because most of them were incubated. Ayden recovered, and by the time we were ready to go home, he was 100 percent better. Ayden is almost two and a half and is a very happy, healthy, and talkative little boy. All of the kicks, heartburn, nausea, and contractions were well worth it!

Beauty and the lawn mower? Tina Westhall Olympia, Washington

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y pregnancy flew by so fast that it didn’t seem like nine months had passed at all. It was easy, and before I knew it, my due date was only two weeks away. I was so ready and basically waited for something to happen any day—anything. I went in for my doctor’s appointment and was told I was dilated to 2 centimeters and was 80 percent effaced. One week later, one week before my due date, I had my next weekly appointment. I was still 2 centimeters and 80 percent effaced. One week past my due date, I went back to the doctor and was still stuck at 2 centimeters and 80 percent. Since there had been no change and I was now one week late, my doctor said she would schedule an induction for the next day, October 3. After hearing so many horror stories about Pitocin, I reluctantly agreed. But as soon as I got home, I tried every home induction technique that I knew of: eating spicy food (I chose Thai), fast walking, nipple stimulation, herbs, and castor oil. Then I remembered reading somewhere about a woman who rode the riding lawn mower because it was so bumpy, so that’s what I did! On October 2 (which is rather cold in Washington), I was in

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the backyard bouncing on the riding lawn mower. I rode around for two hours, but nothing happened, so I gave up. Later that night I packed my bag, and my husband Gary and I prepared to go to the hospital at 2:00 p.m. the next day. However, I woke up having cramps at 1:00 a.m. I was so happy that at first I didn’t realize they really hurt! As I lay there, I kept putting my hands on my stomach and waited for the next cramp, which usually took about eight minutes. The cramps got bad enough that I couldn’t go back to sleep, but I didn’t want to wake Gary, so I got up and watched TV. I timed the cramps until they were finally five minutes apart.

I woke Gary and told him that I was in labor. He just lay there staring at me, because he wasn’t fully awake yet. So I shook him a little bit more and said louder, “Gary, I’m in labor. We need to go to the hospital to have the baby.” That got him up. I called my midwife, who said she would tell the hospital we were on our way and meet us there. We arrived at the hospital at 3:00 a.m., and guess what? I was 2 centimeters dilated and 80 percent effaced! All those hours of contractions hadn’t done anything. Our midwife told me to start walking, and she would check me again in an hour. I felt horrible because I didn’t want to waste her time if I had to go home. When she checked an hour later, I was 5 centimeters and 100 percent effaced, so they admitted me. They gave me a shot of some painkiller, and I actually slept between contractions. Gary was so quiet for me and went downstairs to call family members. When my midwife came in two hours later, I asked if I could get an epidural block because I was getting so close. She was really hesitant and said that, because my contractions weren’t regular, she really didn’t want to let me, so I agreed.

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At 8:00 a.m., I was at 9 centimeters, and by 9:00 a.m., I was at 10. I pushed and it felt incredible. Pushing hurt, but it was also very empowering. Our daughter was born at 9:52 a.m. on October 3. We named her Allison Marie. She weighed 7 pounds, 2 ounces, and was 19½ inches long. I’d like to think the lawn mower worked for me. Maybe all that bumping around just did the trick.

A not-so-scary birth story Rebecca K. Chicago, Illinois

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y name is Rebecca, and I have a beautiful three-week-old daughter. The first thing I want to say is that if you’re told you’ll know for sure when you’re in labor, don’t believe it. I almost had my daughter on the kitchen floor! My husband Erik and I weren’t trying for a baby or even thinking about one. We had no children but planned to some day in the future. So you can imagine our surprise when one day, a week before my period was due, I suddenly decided that I felt pregnant. Erik didn’t believe me. It took an ultrasound to finally convince him. And that was after I had six negative results on home pregnancy tests before one finally came out positive. Right from the start, we were very excited, but since I had already had two miscarriages, we were also very cautious, not telling anyone until I was twelve weeks pregnant. My pregnancy went well—no morning sickness, no heartburn, and no fatigue. I had some indigestion and backache in the second trimester, but that was it. I thought we were having a boy, but Erik said “girl” from the beginning, and we found out at my seventeenthweek appointment that he was right.

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We both had a feeling that Charlotte would be early—by one or two weeks, we guessed. When I went in for my thirty-eighth-week appointment (on a Thursday), my doctor said I was 4 centimeters dilated. I was also 70 percent effaced and “soft” up there. He predicted that I’d go into labor within the next seven days. We were excited, but still shocked. I hadn’t felt any contractions, not even a twinge. We had begun to wonder if she would be late. That weekend, we cleaned the house, did the laundry, washed the car, went grocery shopping, and (finally) installed the car seat. And then we waited with bated breath for contractions to start, and… nothing happened. Disappointment settled in after two days, and then finally, on Sunday, I felt a little crampy. I started having mild contractions in the afternoon, but they were irregular and didn’t hurt at all. On Monday morning, I sent Erik to work and sat down to watch TV. I started noticing cramps again, although these had a definite beginning and end. But still, they didn’t hurt. I decided to time them for a while. They weren’t really regular and didn’t increase in severity. My sister called about 1:00 p.m., and I told her what was happening. She said I might as well go to the hospital to get checked, but I told her I didn’t want to. My plan was to wait until I couldn’t talk through the contractions. Also, in our childbirth class, they told me I’d have no-doubtabout-it killer contractions. These seemed to be Braxton Hicks. My sister finally convinced me to go to the hospital, so I called Erik. He came racing home to find me playing a video game and eating carrots on the couch. We grabbed our bags and headed to the hospital, ready to be sent home. On the way to the hospital (which was ten minutes away), I felt nothing—and I didn’t feel another contraction for twenty minutes. I made Erik leave our bags in the car, so that when they sent us home, I wouldn’t feel so stupid with my bags in tow. They admitted

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me and we went into a birthing room, ready to get checked. They hooked me up to a machine, and I apologized profusely to the nurse when she started to check me, sure she’d laugh and say I wasn’t ready. Well, she looked at me and said, “Today is definitely your baby’s birthday. You’re six-and-a-half centimeters dilated.” We were so excited! It was about 2:30 p.m. The anesthesiologist came in and did an epidural block. I had always planned to have one—never a doubt. I am nobody’s hero and have no tolerance for pain! Knowing I was going to get one took a lot of the stress out of birth, I think, because I knew I’d be able to enjoy it. The epidural was painless and quick. In fact, the anesthesiologist commented that I must have been faking them out, because for six and a half, I was still as a statue! I was not given Pitocin because I was advancing quickly enough on my own. Then I had blood drawn and an IV drip put in, and we settled in to wait. I spoke to my sister, aunt, and father off and on as we waited for the big moment. We passed the time playing Trivial Pursuit and talking about how much our lives would change. The time went quickly, and before we knew it, it was 9:00 p.m. (six hours later), and they were telling us I was at 10 centimeters. It was baby time, and the baby was at plus-2 station. I was terrified to push (worried the epidural wouldn’t work) but too excited to let it bother me. My doctor came in, and they propped up my legs and said, “Okay, now push!” They counted for ten seconds while I pushed, and then I got to relax. I was prepared for a long haul, but when I finished my fourth push, I opened my eyes—and she was out! I had pushed for seventeen minutes, through four contractions. Charlotte was 6 pounds, 7.7 ounces. She was born at 9:17 p.m. on June 5. She had lots of hair and was beautiful! She scored a nine

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on her Apgar, and then they took her away for about an hour. That was a rough hour—we missed her, and I was confined to the bed! Then they brought her back, and we roomed with her until we were discharged two days later. In all, I was in labor about nine hours, pushed for seventeen minutes, and had two minor tears. Not bad for a first baby!

I’ve had more pain stubbing my toe! Hopefully my painless pregnancy and labor will give some hope to other first-time moms.

Miss Ashley’s arrival Carrie Herbst High Point, North Carolina

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had a very normal and easy pregnancy. I had no morning sickness and felt great from the minute I found out until the end. I had an appointment with my ob/gyn on April 5, only days before my due date of April 8. I had been having very minor contractions off and on for almost twenty hours, but they were fairly easy, so I thought they were probably Braxton Hicks. I mentioned this to my doctor at the appointment. When he checked me, I was 2 centimeters dilated. He told me to go home, but if the pain got to the point that I could not take it, I should go straight to the hospital. My pains started getting worse around 3:00 p.m., and by 5:00 p.m., I was hurting really badly. The contractions were about eight to nine minutes apart, but the pain was unbearable. My husband Rick and I drove to the hospital. I was admitted and checked, but I was still only at 2 centimeters. They told me that I could go home if I wanted, or I could walk around and see if I could get labor going. I told them I wanted to stay, and they gave me some Demerol, which helped only a little. Rick and I walked the halls for almost three hours, but when they

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checked me again, nothing. I was still at two, so this time they gave me Cervidil. When the nurse came to check me around 2:00 a.m., I was still at two. My doctor came in shortly after 2:30 a.m. and broke my water. About twenty minutes later I had to go to the bathroom but couldn’t pee. I figured that was normal. Ten minutes later, I felt the need to go again but still couldn’t. I mentioned it to the nurse the next time she came to check me. She said they would need to put in a catheter, which they did. I ran into some problems around 4:00 a.m. All of a sudden, three nurses rushed in the door, started moving me around, and gave me oxygen. I had no idea what was going on, but I didn’t say anything because they were busy and I figured they knew what they were doing. Rick asked what was happening, and they said that the baby’s heart rate had dropped drastically. Within forty-five seconds, it went back to normal. I was worried about why that happened, but the nurse said it’s not unusual for the baby to roll over on her umbilical cord. Since I was up and the nurses were standing there, one of them checked me. I was at 6 centimeters. I asked for an epidural block because I was so tired and just wanted to sleep. They asked if the pain was that bad, and I said, “Not really.” So they gave me more Demerol, which helped me sleep a little.

Around 7:00 a.m., I woke up with an incredible urge to push. Rick ran out and asked for a nurse. She quickly came in and checked me. I was thrilled when she told me that I was at 10 centimeters and could start to push. I pushed for a little over ten minutes without any progress.

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Another nurse came in to help, and when she checked me, she said I wasn’t at 10 centimeters but at 9½. They told me to stop pushing and paged the doctor. My doctor came and confirmed that I was only at 9½ centimeters. It was 8:30 a.m. by now. He told me that he would give me a couple more hours to make some progress. When the doctor checked me at 11:00 a.m., I was almost at a ten. He said he would stay in the immediate area because it could be any time. The nurses got me ready, and my husband set up the video camera in the corner and had it zoomed in perfectly. Twenty minutes later, I was 10 centimeters and was ready to start pushing again. But after ten minutes of pushing, the baby hadn’t moved at all. The doctor used the suction cup, which helped inch the baby out enough so that I only had to push three more times and Ashley Sue was born. She weighed 7 pounds, 2 ounces, and was 20½ inches long. I ended up having an episiotomy, which I hated. I just hated the idea of a needle down there sewing me up, but what can you do, right? Miss Ashley is more than a year old and such a good girl. She started walking at nine-and-a-half months and stopped using a bottle at eleven months. She makes us laugh all the time. I am pregnant with her little sister, and I’m due in November.

Fast and furious first baby Beth Johanson Greenville, South Carolina

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was due with our first child on January 5. My husband James and I knew we were having a girl, and since the day we found out, we had argued over her name. I wanted the name Katelyn, and he wanted Michelle. My pregnancy went really well, and we had “pinked” her room from ceiling to floor. We did everything with a princess theme, and it looked adorable. When I was entering my thirty-eighth week, I asked my doctor if he would consider inducing me. I knew I could give birth any day, and I was getting more and more nervous that my husband wouldn’t be around. James traveled out of state a lot, and he wanted to work up until the birth so he could take a lot of time off to spend with “Michlyn” (as we had started calling her) and me. My doctor was wonderful and told me that he could either induce me or we could schedule a C-section. I said I would rather do this as naturally as possible, so he scheduled me to get induced two days later. My husband had nine weeks of vacation saved and got the time approved immediately. Two days later we went to the hospital, and I was put into my room. They started by putting some gel on me that was supposed to ripen the cervix. About two hours later, they started me on Pitocin.

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Boy, is that powerful stuff! Within twenty minutes I felt my first contraction. Another thirty minutes, and I was feeling them fairly hard. The nurse checked me and said I was dilated 5 centimeters. I asked her how much longer this would be, and she said she had seen births within an hour or even the next day. She asked if I wanted an epidural block, and I said yes. Thirty minutes later, I was feeling no pain! By now my parents and James’s parents had come to visit me. We all sat around and laughed and talked about Michlyn and threw more baby names around. It felt strangely like a party except with no alcohol. My nurse came back and asked everyone to leave so she could check me. I was dilated to an eight. She said I was progressing extremely well and that she wouldn’t be surprised if I had the baby in the next two to three hours. Our parents came back in, and we told them that their granddaughter could be born in the next few hours. Needless to say, both of our moms were ecstatic. Thirty minutes later, my doctor came in to see me. He checked me and said I was at 9½ centimeters and in the transition phase. He suggested that the people who weren’t going to be in the room for the delivery say their good-byes and leave. Both moms were walking really, really slowly toward the door, and of course, I felt sorry for them. So I told them they could stay if they sat way behind the doctor, way to the side, and didn’t say a word. They were thrilled to pieces. I kissed both of our dads, who couldn’t wait to get out of there, and they eagerly went downstairs to eat. The transition phase was about ten minutes, and then it was showtime! I pushed for ten minutes and enjoyed every single push. I remember clearly thinking that I was pushing my daughter out into the world, and I embraced the thought.

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After only four hours from start to finish, our healthy baby girl arrived, weighing 6 pounds, 6 ounces. She was gorgeous, and holding her for the first time was the most wonderful thing in the world. My husband had to run down to get our dads because they were still lounging in the cafeteria. Our moms went nuts, and I didn’t know whom to let hold the baby after James and me. So our moms each put their hands out, and we placed the baby exactly in the middle. This of course thrilled them both. My mom asked what our daughter’s name was, and I said I didn’t know. The nurses took the baby and told us that they would move me into a different room and then bring her back to me. So we all moved to my new room and waited for the baby. James and I started talking about her name, and we decided Katelyn Michelle would work. We should have thought of that earlier, but that would have been no fun! I’m also assuming James either felt guilty after watching the birth or had just liked harassing me for nine months about the name, knowing full well that the name I wanted would be first and his second. Being a parent is the most incredible thing in the world. I really did forget the actual pain, and I can’t wait to do it again. I remember that it really hurt a lot, but that pain was forgotten when they put my beautiful baby in my arms.

My angel Madison Candice Pesotini East Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania

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y sweetheart, Madison Victoria, was born at twenty-six weeks. Here is her story. My boyfriend and I found out that I was pregnant in June. Being only twenty-one years old, I didn’t know what to expect. I was sure I would love my child more than anything in the world. I continued going to college and living in the dorms. I lived a normal college life, with the exception of parties and drinking. Although my pregnancy was progressing normally, I had cervical bleeding throughout my pregnancy. Every time this happened, the doctor said I was okay and to just stay off my feet. I followed the doctor’s orders, and the bleeding always stopped. December 9 came around, and I was getting ready to go take a final exam. When I went to the bathroom, I discovered that I had vaginal bleeding that was more significant than ever before. I was going to shrug it off and stay off my feet like the doctor always said, but something told me I should go to the hospital. I drove myself to the nearest hospital, which was twenty minutes away. When I got there, the doctor examined me, and the look on her face said it all. I was 4 centimeters dilated! I was alone and had

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no one there to console me, although at least seven people were poking and prodding me with IV lines, leads, and a catheter. I was given steroids to help Madison’s lungs mature and magnesium sulfate to prevent the labor from progressing. They put me in a helicopter and flew me to a hospital with a neonatal intensive care unit. About half an hour later, when I arrived at that hospital, I was almost at 10 centimeters! Although I was dilating, I didn’t have any contractions or pain. When I was told I was almost fully dilated, the doctors did an ultrasound to determine Madison’s position. Unfortunately, she was breech, and I was rushed off to the operating room for an emergency Cesarean section. I remember the fear and sadness I felt right before I was put to sleep for the procedure. Right after that, I remember waking up to the doctor telling me I had a daughter. After I came out of the recovery room, I remember my boyfriend, my mother, my mother-in-law-to-be, my aunt, my grandmother, and my grandfather greeting me. I was handed a birth certificate from the hospital with Madison’s footprints. From the size of the footprints, I knew we had a long, bumpy road ahead of us. Madison weighed 1 pound, 12 ounces, and was 13 inches long. She was placed on a ventilator immediately because of respiratory distress. She was also jaundiced, so she was placed under photographic lights. Later that night I went to see her in the NICU, and from the moment I saw her, I hoped and prayed that my little girl would be okay. I loved her very much. During her 81-day stay in the NICU, Madison encountered many ups and downs. She has a rare heart condition called prolonged QT syndrome that is treated with beta blockers and a pacemaker. When she was just two days old, a temporary pacemaker was placed in her chest. She would not be able to get a permanent pacemaker until she weighed 4 pounds, 3 ounces!

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Along with the heart condition, she had minor respiratory problems, so she had nasal oxygen prongs and was on a machine providing continuous, positive airway pressure. Amazingly, she was not on the vent and the CPAP machine for very long. She required oxygen more than anything. Madison also suffered from necrotizing endocolitis, a stomach condition that required intravenous feeding. She could not be fed anything by mouth for about two weeks and was put on antibiotics to get rid of the bacteria. Thankfully, she got rid of that problem without any damage to her intestines. Unfortunately, there was a bug going around the NICU at the time of her stay. Some babies were getting a toxin in their stools called klebsiella. Madison got this and had to stay in isolation until she went home. This bug was treated with antibiotics as well. Pulmonary edema (fluid accumulated in the lungs) was another problem for her, but that was solved with Lasix, which helped her urinate the fluids. In addition, Madison had several blood transfusions due to anemia, which is a common condition of preemies. On top of all this, she had minor retinopathy of prematurity, which can scar or detach the eye’s retina. If not watched, she could go blind. She also suffered from a broken humerus in her left arm. They treated her arm with a soft splint to help the bone grow back into place. The reason for that break is still unknown. While she was facing all of these obstacles, Madison went through periods when she gained and lost weight. But by February 16, she had gained enough weight to get her permanent pacemaker. The surgery went beautifully! Two days later, I got to hold my daughter for the first time. (I hadn’t been allowed to hold her for two months.) At that moment, I was filled with gratitude, happiness, and extreme love for my daughter. About one week later, we got to go home oxygen- and monitor-free.

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Madison’s prognosis is very good. She is now two years old. Her broken arm is completely healed, and the scarring in her eyes is almost gone. She has no breathing problems, and her heart condition is well under control. She is a 25-pound, spoiled baby who is developmentally perfect in every way! She even knows sign language.

I thank God every day for allowing my daughter to survive and be a normal, healthy child. With the love and support of her daddy and the rest of her family, Madison is thriving, and her mommy is even going back to school to finish her degree in diagnostic medical sonography!

Third time’s the charm Ann Larson Crestwood, Illinois

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ike many women, I always wanted a daughter. My husband and I were already blessed with two healthy, happy boys, but I wanted to try one more time for my girl. You know the old saying, “Third time’s the charm.” Fortunately, conceiving has never been an issue for us, and within what seemed like days of making the decision, I was pregnant again. I felt like an old pro and fell right back into my pregnancy routine. I ate healthy foods and stopped drinking any kind of alcohol, took my prenatal vitamins, saw my ob/gyn regularly, and started making a list of girls’ names. The first two trimesters went by quickly, and my two sons, ages one and three, certainly kept me busy. The third trimester led me into spring and early summer. I became a bit more uncomfortable as the weather warmed up and I gained the majority of my “baby weight.” As my due date came and went, I realized that, as with my other two pregnancies, this birth would have to be induced. I didn’t relish the thought of labor induced by Pitocin, with its strong and frequent contractions. But I talked to a number of my friends and family, and everyone assured me that

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my third delivery would be much easier. Of course I believed them because that’s exactly what I wanted to hear. About two weeks past my due date, I had a morning appointment with my doctor. After a quick exam, she asked me if I was free in the afternoon and said, “Let’s have this baby today.” I was a bit surprised because we usually scheduled appointments with a day or two’s notice, but I was ready to go and more than a little excited.

I headed home, threw some things in a bag, got my sister to watch the boys, grabbed my somewhat shocked husband by the hand, and headed off to the hospital. I had preregistered at the hospital, so I quickly found myself in a private birthing room and dressed in a gown. The first nurse was quick and efficient, and in short order, I was on the fetal monitor and my IV drip was flowing smoothly. At about 1:00 p.m., they started the Pitocin and told me I was dilated to about 3 centimeters. Within a few minutes, the first contractions began. During my conversations with the nurses about my past medical history and previous deliveries, they each told me that, based on their past experiences, I should expect a fairly short labor and relatively easy delivery. This would be my third child in four years, so their comments made perfect sense to me and coincided with everything other moms had told me. After about two hours, the intensity of the contractions had increased and I was dilated to 5 centimeters. Having never experienced childbirth without Pitocin, I have trouble making a comparison. But I can say that, with Pitocin, there is no gradual increase in the length and

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force of the contractions, just wham! As the afternoon progressed, a new group of nurses came on shift. Based on the baby’s heart rate and other factors, the nurses were convinced that I was going to have a seven-pound girl. Perfect, I thought, exactly what I was hoping for! After five hours, I hadn’t made any real progress. So the doctor decided to break my water and attach the monitor directly to the baby’s head. Time started to pass more slowly, and the pain started becoming a factor. At this point the doctor determined that it was too late to do an epidural block, so they gave me a little Demerol. Unfortunately this did nothing but make me nauseous, and I threw up. After another two hours, the nurse told me I was close to 10 centimeters and that it was time to push. Great news! While she headed out to notify my doctor, another nurse stayed with me as I started to push. Within a few minutes, my doctor checked me and found that, in fact, I was still only at 7 centimeters. My only thought was, “Oh boy, so much for the quick labor…” At 11:00 p.m., after ten solid hours of labor, I was at 10 centimeters and fully effaced. It was finally time to push. Things started out slowly, and I was having a difficult time. I kept thinking to myself, “Man, this doesn’t seem any easier than the first two; in fact, it seems more difficult than I remember!” My doctor and my husband kept encouraging me to bear down and push, even after I hit the point of thinking a C-section might be a really good idea! Finally, the baby crowned, and I was able to push the head out. One more big push, and I was there. I had done it. I could see my husband and the nurses all looking more than a little surprised while the doctor suctioned out the baby’s mouth, and I could hear the first cries before my child came into view for the first time. “Congratulations, it’s a healthy baby boy.” The doctor held him while my husband cut the cord; our son looked

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big, very big. The nurses weighed him, measured him, did the Apgar scoring, got him all cleaned up, and brought him to me to hold for the first time. Thomas John Larson, 10 pounds, 1 ounce: my 7-pound “girl”!

No progress results in Cesarean Michelle Schroeder New Braunfels, Texas

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hen I was thirty-eight-and-a-half weeks pregnant, my doctor told me I was 1 centimeter dilated and would most likely go into labor by the end of the week. I was so happy because I just wanted to see my new son. (Yes, we were having a boy.) I couldn’t wait to see what he looked like, whose features he would have, and if he would have hair…I was so excited. Three days later, my water broke at 10:00 p.m. while I was doing a load of laundry. I yelled at my husband Peter that my water had broken, and he came rushing into the laundry room. He helped me waddle to the bathroom so I could take a shower. Peter said he was going to call the hospital and tell them we were on our way. I said okay at first. But then I realized I wasn’t having any contractions, so I wasn’t sure if they would let me come in or not. They said to come anyway. We called Edie, Peter’s sister, and told her we were on our way to pick her up. She couldn’t believe I was laughing and talking and wasn’t in any pain. Yet. We arrived in the hospital parking lot at 11:20 p.m. That’s when I felt my first contraction, and it was rather strong. I sat in the car and waited for it to pass, and then we slowly made our way to

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Labor and Delivery. About ten minutes later, while standing filling out papers, I felt the second contraction. Another ten minutes, and I felt the third when I was putting on the nightgown. The nurse checked me and said I was only 1 centimeter dilated. When my doctor came to see me sometime around 12:30 a.m., I was still only at 1 centimeter. Since my water had broken, they decided to induce me, hoping that I would dilate faster. I was in extreme pain by 3:00 a.m. I asked for an epidural block but was given Demerol until the anesthesiologist arrived. The Demerol didn’t do anything for me at all. Around 4:05 a.m., I received my epidural and felt so much better. Edie and Peter were great throughout everything and kept making me laugh with stories about when they were little. Around 8:00 a.m., I started to feel contractions in my back. At first I thought I might have rolled onto something, but the pains were very strong and coming every two minutes. I kept trying to breathe through them, but it was agonizing. But when they checked me, I was barely at a three. My doctor said we should wait a couple more hours to see if I progressed, because my water had broken more than ten hours earlier. By then I was desperate for a Cesarean section, but he said I had to wait until 10:00 a.m. When the nurse checked me again at 9:30 a.m., I was still not quite at a three, so she talked to the doctor. He checked me (it gets sore when they keep doing that) and said that he wanted to go ahead with a C-section. I was so happy that it was going to be over soon and I would meet our son! I went into surgery, and at 10:35 a.m., Jacob Michael was born, weighing 8 pounds, 2 ounces, and measuring 21 inches long. The nurse brought him over so I could kiss him. I finally got to hold him when I was back in my room and they brought him to me. I’m so glad that we thought to bring our camcorder and that Edie was there to videotape everything. That tape will be the most treasured item I own, except for my wedding ring.

My baby boy…easy birth and easy baby Hope Lehmann Knoxville, Tennessee

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y entire pregnancy was wonderful. I was due August 16. The weather bothered me a lot because, living in Tennessee, it’s hot in the summer! On August 10, I was sitting in my airconditioned house drinking lemonade when I felt what seemed like a contraction. I waited, and nothing else happened, but about thirty minutes later, there was another one. They were consistent, every twenty-five to thirty minutes, for the next four hours. I wasn’t in pain at all. When my husband Teddy came home from work, I told him I might be in labor. My next doctor’s appointment was two days away, so I thought I would just wait. After four hours, the pains stopped, so I thought they had been false labor and was quite disappointed. Two days later, I went to my appointment. I told my doctor about the false labor and that the baby was moving great and that everything was wonderful. He told me that I was dilated to a three. On August 14, I woke up at 6:00 a.m. having pains. I was sure they were false labor again, but they started to get closer together and a little harder, so I took them a little more seriously. I waited until 8:00 a.m. and then woke Teddy. The pains

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were ten minutes apart and lasting thirty seconds each. We knew this was probably it. I knew I wasn’t supposed to call the hospital until the contractions were five minutes apart, but I didn’t know what to do. So, to keep my mind off the pain, I cleaned the house and started a load of laundry. At 11:30 a.m., the pains were five minutes apart. Teddy called the hospital, and they told us to come in. We grabbed the bag, the car seat, and the camera, and drove in. When we got to the hospital at 1:00 p.m., we filled out paperwork and they put me in a room. They told me to put on a gown, and just when I started to get undressed, my water broke. I cracked the door open and told Teddy to tell the nurse. She told me to put on the gown and get into bed. When she checked me around 1:30 p.m., I was dilated to an eight.

I couldn’t believe this was so easy. Sure, I was only twenty-five years old and in great shape, but the “pains” were easy and not at all what I expected. The nurse asked if I still wanted an epidural block. The pain could get worse by the time I was 10 centimeters dilated, she said, and the pushing could be very painful. I thought about it and decided to get it. Why not? I was doing great but had no idea how hard it could get, so I thought it might be a good idea. She called the anesthesiologist, who arrived ten minutes later to give me the epidural. Now, that hurt! The anesthesiologist had to try twice, and it was very painful. I could feel the needle go in and then a buildup of fluid that started with a lot of pressure in one area and then spread out. I wondered if the epidural was worth getting because it hurt more than the contractions! At 2:10 p.m. I had dilated to a ten and was ready to push. It was great. I didn’t feel anything at all. My doctor was laughing because

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she said she had never seen anyone arrive dilated to an eight who wasn’t screaming in pain. She said she couldn’t believe I was going to push and have a baby from start to finish in less than nine hours! I pushed four times, and the head was out. My doctor asked if I wanted to feel the head, and I said yes. Three more pushes, and my beautiful son was born. He started to cry, and everyone laughed because the sound of a newborn is so beautiful and precious. Teddy cut the cord, which he told me later was hard to cut. I pushed two more times for the afterbirth to come out. I tore a tiny bit and needed three stitches. Jacob Theodore was 8 pounds, 14 ounces, and was 21 inches long. Yes, he was a big baby boy. I’m surprised I didn’t tear more! It was a wonderful experience, and I can’t wait to do it again.

Jade’s birth story Sara A. San Jose, California

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had been having irregular Braxton Hicks contractions for weeks, so when my doctor offered to induce me a week before my due date, I was ready to say yes. I never thought I would agree to such an invasive, elective option, but I was so ready. My husband needed convincing, but he ended up agreeing to do the induction. His primary concern was with what he had heard about the increased discomfort of a Pitocin labor. I was 2 centimeters dilated and 70 percent effaced at that doctor’s visit. I went in for induction at 6:00 a.m. on July 11. I had been induced with my other two, so I figured it would be okay. They started the Pitocin at 7:30 a.m., but I really didn’t start having any discomfort until around 11:00 a.m. Then, around 11:30 a.m. or noon, my doctor came and wanted to break my water. I didn’t want this to happen because then I was locked into having the baby, and I was only 2 centimeters at this point. I told my doula that I didn’t want to have this done. But the topic didn’t seem to be up for discussion with my doctor, mostly because I hadn’t been clear with him about my expectations for a more “natural” birth.

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About twenty minutes after my water broke, I started to have contractions averaging about one minute apart. After a while, they felt like they were one on top of the other, and I thought maybe going to pee would help. When I went to the bathroom, my body started pushing, but the doula told me to just breathe because I wasn’t ready yet. She asked the nurse to check me, but the nurse said she was sure I wasn’t ready. I was checked anyway, though, and the baby was very ready to come out. Breathing was quite difficult, and twice my body just pushed anyway.

I hadn’t experienced this pushing urge with my other two because I had had epidural blocks. When the doctor got there about five minutes later (the longest five minutes ever!), I pushed about four times, and Jade was born. Immediately after she came out, I had such relief. She had an Apgar score of nine. She had a little fluid, but they didn’t suction her… just rubbed her. I imagine they did this because she came out so quickly that there was not enough compression to get the fluid out of her. Jade was born at 1:18 p.m. She was 7 pounds, 8 ounces, and 19¾ inches long. I didn’t tear or need an incision. I was barely even in pain. I had experienced a lot of pain with the other two, so with this pregnancy I had done a lot of squatting and tailor sitting to prepare my body for having a baby travel through it. I was so happy to have gone through the labor and delivery with no pain medication, which was my primary reason for having the doula. She was a great help in encouraging me through the process. I was very proud of myself especially, since Pitocin is supposed to make labor harder. I prayed before having Jade that I wouldn’t tear, and I was so thankful that I didn’t.

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Jade is a very easy baby so far, and her older brothers love to hold and kiss her.

Water birth was perfect Kim Goodspeed Asheville, North Carolina

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ven before I was pregnant, I knew it would be much worse for me to be in a hospital for the birth. I hate needles and didn’t want a bunch of strangers watching and talking to me. Home felt the most natural and comfortable—no restraints, time limits, or people telling me what to do. We decide to have the midwives at New Dawn attend the birth and see to my prenatal care. They always have two midwives attend a home birth. They also have a baby pool to borrow for a water birth, which is what we did. I was due October 22 and was positive I would be late. (My mom was at least two weeks late with three of us.) On October 21, I woke around 8:30 a.m. and knew right away I was having contractions. I had an appointment scheduled that day with the midwives, but while I was still lying in bed, the phone rang. It was New Dawn calling to cancel my appointment as they were at a birth. I said I was also in labor but was sure I’d be fine for a while. We promised to keep them updated as labor progressed. My husband Matt got up and made me waffles for breakfast, although it was hard to eat. I was having contractions fairly regularly, but they

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were manageable. Matt realized that we had bought the wrong kind of hose to fill the tub, so he went to the store to exchange it. (We had bought a soaker hose—imagine what a mess that would have been!) I tried to rest on the couch but had trouble getting comfortable. By now it was probably noon. It was great because I knew we were already where we were going to stay, so I had no anxiety about wondering when we should go to the hospital. It was also great because no one was checking me, so I had no expectations about how long it was going to take. I was just trying to relax, rest, and concentrate on myself—and this transformation of my life. I was seeing a chiropractor during the end of my pregnancy because I had heard that it could be beneficial. She had said to call while I was in labor, and she would adjust me. So we called and made an appointment for 3:30 p.m. Matt came home and started cooking a big pot of chili, since we knew we would be really busy soon! In between stirring, he would run into the living room to rub my back until it was time to go to the chiropractor. The ride was torturous! My contractions started coming very quickly (like every thirty seconds) and were very strong. The ride home was even worse. We made contact with the midwives when we got home. Jan (one of the midwives, now back at the office after the birth) suggested I might be dehydrated because of the contractions and urged me to drink. I knew that couldn’t be true because I had been very conscious of staying hydrated. By then it was probably 5:00 p.m. I sat on the toilet to try to pee, but then I didn’t want to get back up. All of a sudden, I started pushing with a contraction, and there was no stopping it. I yelled at Matt to call Jan back and tell her I was pushing. I could hear him on the phone, and as soon as she picked up, she said, “I’m on my way.” (They have Caller ID, so she knew it was Matt calling again.)

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She was at our house in less than ten minutes and made me come out of the bathroom to check me. My biggest fear at this point was that I’d only be 3 centimeters dilated and I’d have been swelling my uterus by pushing when it was not ready. But I was at 10 centimeters. My body knew what to do! I got into the tub, and as I started squatting down, my water broke. I stayed on my hands and knees for a long time while Matt gave me cold washcloths for my forehead and sips of water. At some point, Trish, our other midwife, arrived and gave me a kiss. I pushed for a long time, but I was finally able to work with the contractions so it wasn’t too bad. Jan made me turn over to see if we could see anything. That was much more painful, but we needed to get things moving. Before long, we could see his head with the contractions.

Finally, with a loud animalistic roar from me, a big push, and a fiery burn, his head came out. With the next little push, his body slipped out, and he was immediately flipped onto my stomach. I couldn’t believe it. It was a boy! After I got out of the tub, delivered the placenta, got stitches (I tore a little), and nursed my little one for the first time, Matt and Jan helped me upstairs and into an herb bath. Trish carried Elijah up. Once I was done with the bath, I got into my own bed with my sweet little baby! Jan and Trish hung out awhile, and Trish stayed until almost 1:30 a.m. to make sure all was well. I called my sisters and my mother to share the news, and finally it was time to sleep. Elijah Blue Goodspeed, born at 9:21 p.m. on October 21, weighed 8 pounds, 10 ounces. What an incredible, mind-altering, life-changing, empowering rite of passage. It was the most perfect way for me to enter motherhood.

Pregnancy-induced hypertension with first Shelly Evans Milford, Delaware

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y pregnancy was great, and I loved it. I’ve always been active and continued to bike ride and exercise at the gym. I was really careful about what I ate because my sister had gained 45 pounds during her first pregnancy and never lost it all before she got pregnant again. I wanted to be healthy and back in my size 6! I had only gained twenty pounds by the beginning of my eighth month. At my doctor’s appointment, they noticed that my blood pressure was slightly elevated and that I had gained almost eight pounds in two weeks. I was diagnosed with pregnancy-induced hypertension, which is high blood pressure caused by a pregnancy. I was hospitalized for a few days and then placed on bed rest. Fortunately, this happened when I was fairly far along, so I was sure the baby could be born safely. Two weeks before my due date, the nurse was shocked to find that my blood pressure was really high (170/110). She told me that she would call the hospital and schedule me to be induced. I was so excited that I could barely wait for her to come back and give me the information. She said to be at the hospital at 8:00 the next morning. I went out to the car, called my husband at work, and

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told him that I had to be induced the next morning. He was just as excited as I was. We could hardly sleep that night. We had called our parents and family to let them all know. We asked that no one come to the hospital until after the baby was born. Although I wanted my mom in the room, I didn’t want to hurt my husband’s mother’s feelings by not having her there, too. We thought it was fair to say no one should come until we called. The next morning we got to the hospital at 8:30 a.m., half an hour late, because traffic was ridiculous for whatever reason. I was mad at everyone on the road, and my husband kept trying to calm me down. We got there and checked in. The nurse used Cervidil to help soften my cervix. It was a small rectangular pouch that had a retrieval cord and reminded me of a tampon. Around 11:00 a.m. they started me on Pitocin. I didn’t think they had given me enough, because I didn’t feel anything for about thirty minutes. But at about thirty-one minutes, I felt my first contraction. Wow! The contractions were steady and strong from the beginning. I didn’t seem to have a break between them. By the time I’d calmed down from one and could breathe somewhat normally, the next one started. At 1:00 p.m. my doctor checked me and said I was dilated to 5 centimeters. If I wanted to have an epidural block, I could, he said. Oh boy, did I want it! It was magnificent. I just propped myself up and watched television with my husband while my body did its thing. My husband drove me crazy while we were watching my soap opera. He kept asking who was who, and wasn’t that so-and-so, and why did that guy have to take his shirt off when he was just standing in his living room? I kept telling him to go buy a stuffed animal for the baby, but he just laughed me off. At 4:00 p.m. I was fully dilated. I started to push but was told to

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stop. The baby had moved very quickly, and they didn’t want me to deliver it without my doctor there. My doctor arrived almost immediately, and after only five huge pushes, Grace Renee was born. She arrived at 4:23 p.m. on May 9. She weighed 6 pounds, 2 ounces, and was 19 inches long, and she was perfect.

Baby Bre’s story Jennine Mustard Dayton, Ohio

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y due date was November 9, and my grandpa was planning to make the trip up from Mississippi to meet his third great-grandchild. At my appointment on October 25, I told my obstetrician the plan and asked if we could talk about inducing me if I didn’t go into labor by November 2. My grandfather’s birthday was on November 3, and we thought that it would be neat for the baby to share her great-grandfather’s birthday as I shared my great-grandmother’s. My doctor surprised us by saying, “I was going to mention that you’ve been 2 centimeters dilated for three weeks with no change, and I was thinking about having you come in. When would be good?” I told her about the birthdays, and she said, “I was thinking sooner.” “Like when?” I asked. “How does tonight or tomorrow sound?” she replied. Stunned, my husband and I looked at each other. I had planned to have dinner with my co-workers the next night and had a few things to finish up at work. We also needed to notify my family members who were coming from out of town. We agreed to come on the night of October 26 for the induction.

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The nurse told me to bring my bag and show up at the hospital at 6:00 p.m. on Wednesday night. This was the same time as my dinner plans would have been. The next day I told my co-workers good-bye and listened to all of their negative comments about inductions. Finally the time came for me to go home and get ready. We drove to the hospital, checked in, and waited.

Around 7:00 p.m., the nurse told us that we were not scheduled until 9:00 p.m. I could have gone to dinner! But instead we stayed in the area, walked around the mall, got some ice cream, and drove around. We talked about how nervous we were feeling and how excited we were. Finally it was 8:30 p.m., and we couldn’t wait any longer. We went back to the hospital and checked in. At roughly 8:45 p.m., they took us to the labor and delivery room. The nurse hooked up all my monitors and inserted a gel to soften my cervix. Around an hour later, the nurses came in and checked on me. At 2:30 or 3:00 a.m., my doctor gave me a second dose of the gel to soften my cervix the rest of the way. She asked me how I was feeling. I told her I was tired and trying to sleep but still so anxious. She said she was going to give me Pitocin, which would make me cramp more than I already had been, and asked me if I wanted an epidural block. I thought about it for a minute and decided to get IV painkillers so I could sleep. They were awesome! I felt instant drunkenness. Within ten seconds I was fast asleep. The nurse woke me at 6:30 am. I was 6 centimeters dilated and 90 percent effaced. I called my husband and told him that they were going to give me my epidural. He arrived around 7:00 a.m.

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from one of his jobs, and we both took a nap. At 10:00 a.m. my mom called to say my family was swimming at the hotel and they would be over shortly. An hour later, I told them that I was about 8 centimeters and that they could come to the hospital. They arrived at 11:15 a.m., and a few minutes later, the nurse checked me and discovered I was fully dilated. Everybody got ready, and I started to push at about 11:35 a.m. Not too long after that, I started feeling lots of pressure and an amazing amount of pain. My anesthesiologist told me I was fine and that feeling something was normal. If my epidural had worn off, I wouldn’t be able to carry on a conversation with her, she said. No sooner had I opened my mouth to argue my point than I felt another contraction and couldn’t even breathe. Sure enough, the epidural had worn off! The anesthesiologist got my drugs hooked up, and I was ready to push again. Ten minutes later, my beautiful baby girl came sliding out, and my husband was hugging me and tearing up. I was watching him and looking at the baby, not knowing how I was supposed to feel. Breanna Cheyenne Mustard was born at 11:57 a.m. on October 27. That was one of the happiest days in our lives. I was only in actual labor for six hours and pushed for ten minutes. I was very lucky and would do it again in a heartbeat.

Intense back labor with no epidural Katherine Harris Winter Garden, Florida

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y due date with our first baby was September 14, and it was approaching fast. We knew we were having a girl, and everything had gone smoothly so far. My doctor said she was positive that I wouldn’t go past my due date since, at my September 1 appointment, I was already dilated to 3 centimeters and 60 percent effaced. By my September 8 appointment, I had reached 4 centimeters, but the baby was still at zero station. I felt great and was excited and nervous because I knew it could be any day. At this appointment, my doctor said that if I wasn’t in labor by the weekend, I should call him Monday morning and they would schedule me to be induced. The weekend came and went with no contractions, so I called Monday and was scheduled to go in at 11:00 a.m. the following day. I had heard from other moms that being induced was horrible because the pains came so fast and hard. So I was nervous about this, but I also didn’t want to go past my due date. I was ready to get this little girl out of my stomach and into my arms. I figured that since I was dilated to a four, my body was getting ready and we were just helping it along a little.

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My husband and I arrived at the hospital on Tuesday, September 13. The nurse put the fetal heartbeat and contraction strips on my baby belly, took a blood sample, and did all the other tasks that go with getting checked in. She said I was having some fairly strong contractions, but I couldn’t feel them at all. At 10:30 a.m., my doctor came and checked me. She broke my water to see if that would push me into labor. It was strange to have all that water flow out of me, but it was clear, so that was a good sign. I was still dilated to a four. The nurse said my husband and I could walk around the maternity wing if we wanted, so we did. I had only walked around once when my back started to hurt really badly. We started back to my room, but with each step, my back pain got worse and worse. My husband tried to half-carry me, but that seemed to hurt more. When we got back to my room, I went to the bathroom and then sat down on my bed. I felt like I was going to start crying, so I got off my bed, stood next to it, leaned over it belly down, and tried to stretch my back. That helped a little. I didn’t want to have an epidural block if I didn’t absolutely need one, so I thought I should at least try to handle the back pain. I kept rocking back and forth while standing next to the bed, but within two minutes, that wasn’t working any longer. I couldn’t walk because of the pain, and lying down wasn’t even an option. I tried getting on all fours on top of the bed with pillows under me. My husband kept massaging my lower back as hard as he could, but it never seemed hard enough. The pain felt like it was in my bones. This went on for almost three hours, which was so hard. I kept trying to watch my soap operas and not concentrate on the pain. Around 2:00 p.m., my mom and my sister showed up. I think this helped my husband because he felt like he could leave the room and take a break himself. This was really hard on him because of all

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the pain I was in. I kept trying to reassure him that he was helping me so much and that I was so glad he was here. I kept telling him that this was all normal, that all women do this, and that I would get through it, too. When the nurse checked me around 2:30 p.m., I was at a six. I was bleeding a little, which I didn’t know would happen. The nurse said that some women bleed when dilating, while others don’t. The nurse gave me fentanyl to help with the pain and then started me on Pitocin.

Once the Pitocin kicked in, which was immediately, my back pain felt better. It still hurt like a nine on a scale of one to ten, but at least it wasn’t a twenty anymore! I felt so much more relaxed with the fentanyl and the Pitocin. The contractions were coming faster and harder, but the pain medicine was helping a lot. So I just kept breathing and going with the flow. When the nurse checked me again at 4:00 p.m., I was at a nine, with just a lip of my cervix keeping me from a ten. The nurse told me to push while she held the errant edge back, and it worked. So I was at a ten and ready to push. I pushed for about two minutes and then asked the nurse if I could wait until my doctor came. She knew that I really wanted to wait and get a pudendal block. My sister-in-law had had the pudendal block and said that it really helped when she tensed up her perineum muscles. My doctor arrived within minutes and gave me the block. After that, I pushed only three more times and our daughter was here. Since I was numb, I didn’t even feel her head come out. It happened so fast. My husband cut her cord, and we just kept staring at her.

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I hated that they took her to get cleaned up and weighed, but they had to. Becca Leanne weighed 6 pounds, 3 ounces, and was 19½ inches long. I was thrilled with how the entire experience went. The worst part was the back labor, which was horrible because I couldn’t find a good position to minimize the pain. Other than the back labor, giving birth was the most precious experience of my life. I’m so excited and eager to do it again.

Difficult pregnancy but completely worth it Anneli Nilsson Stromsund, Sweden

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was twenty-seven weeks pregnant when, the day before Christmas, my mom and I were out doing some last-minute shopping. I was standing at a counter paying for my purchases when I felt that my pants were a little wet. I thought maybe I was just really hot and sweaty since the mall was so hot. That night I noticed it was getting worse. I put on a pad and called the hospital. They told me to come right away and check in with Labor and Delivery. The on-call doctor did an ultrasound and said I was leaking amniotic fluid. This can be normal during the end of your pregnancy, especially when you are overdue, but I was only twentyseven weeks along. My doctor said he would just keep watching me and told me to drink plenty of fluids and to do fetal kick counts. My baby was still moving around a lot, which was a good sign. While I was at the hospital, the nurse discovered I had high blood pressure, which meant I was now diagnosed with gestational hypertension. My doctor explained that about one in four women with gestational hypertension go on to develop preeclampsia during pregnancy or labor, or soon after giving birth. He said the chances of getting preeclampsia are one in two if you develop

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gestational hypertension before thirty weeks. So, I was starting to get quite worried. My doctor said that ideally he wanted to get me to at least thirty-seven weeks, and then he would do a Cesarean. So for the next four weeks, I had my blood and urine tested three times a week at my hospital. At thirty-six weeks, I went in for my normal round of tests. While there, I had to go to the bathroom so bad. I was drinking so much water that I usually had to pee every hour. I fast-walked down the hall, and just as I walked into the bathroom, my water broke. All I could think was that I was in the right place at the right time. All the nurses and staff rushed to help me and to get me a wheelchair. I was so excited because I knew today was the day to see my beautiful baby. I then realized that someone needed to call my husband, and I started to panic. The wonderful nurse assured me that she would call him immediately and that he would be there in plenty of time for the Cesarean. My daughter Katarina Sofia was born on March 2. She weighed 5 pounds, 10 ounces, and was 18½ inches long. She was taken to the neonatal intensive care unit and put on oxygen for a couple of hours, but she was eating normally and breathing great. She came home six days later. I am now pregnant with my second daughter and due in November.

First baby born at thirty-six weeks, but so easy! Lynda Lipske Muncie, Indiana

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ix weeks before I was due on March 6, I went on maternity leave to be closer to home. I had the worst fear that I would be the pregnant woman stranded in a snowstorm and a stranger plowing snow would deliver my baby. So I thought it would be safer if I was close to home. You never know with Midwest winters. I also own my own hair salon, and standing on my feet was getting very painful, plus my big belly was making it hard to cut hair. My sister Leanne, who works for me, took over. My mom also came and stayed with us, which my husband Greg loved because my mom is a fantastic cook. My mom cooked, cleaned, painted the baby’s room pink, and stenciled flowers, hearts, and ladybugs on the walls. Yes, we were having a girl! And my mom totally took over, which was fine with us. Four weeks before I was due, I just couldn’t sleep. I got up around 2:00 a.m. and looked around my daughter’s room, walked downstairs and got a drink of water, watched some television, and checked my email. I felt an urge to pee while sitting there, and I was starting to turn off the computer when my water broke. I took off my sweatpants and underwear, walked them over to the laundry room and threw them in the hamper, and went to the

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bathroom. I went upstairs (still naked from the waist down), woke up my mom first, and told her my water had broken downstairs at my desk. She calmly said okay, and then noticed I was naked and laughed. She told me to go wake up Greg, and she would clean up any mess. When I woke Greg up, he said he would take a shower first, if that was okay. I told him fine, packed my things, and called the hospital. I told them my water had broken but that I wasn’t having any contractions. They said I should still come in so they could at least check me. My mom came back in and said she wanted to take a shower, too, but would wait for me. I told her to go ahead and use the other bathroom, and I would just wait. I told her I needed to shave from the waist down, and she laughed again. She was so bubbly and happy. Ten minutes later, I was in the shower, and another thirty minutes later, we were on our way to the hospital. I started having minor contractions on the way there, and my back was bothering me. At the hospital, they admitted me into a room and told me to put on a gown. One nurse checked me and said I was dilated to 3 centimeters. Another nurse gave me an IV line for antibiotics for Group B streptococcus even though I was negative. They do this as a precaution for premature babies. The nurse was really nice and friendly. She said that I was only the third woman on the floor right now. I asked which doctor was on call. It wasn’t my normal one, but one who was in my doctor’s practice. My contractions continued every four to five minutes while they were strapping my belly. After two more hours, the nurse checked me and said I was dilated to 6 centimeters. She said she saw no reason to induce me, because I was moving along beautifully.

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My pains were strong, but I could talk easily through them, so I didn’t see a reason to have an epidural block. I asked her what size the nurse thought my baby would be, considering she was a month early. I couldn’t help but still be scared of childbirth, but I also wanted my baby to be a good size. My three sisters had shown up by now and were making me laugh. They had eight children among them and were so excited that I was about to become a member of their club. At around 7:00 a.m., they checked me again and I was at a nine! No epidural, and I was so proud of myself! My mom was wonderful through everything and was like a happy little elf. The nurses loved her, and she was just so excited that everything was going so smoothly. Greg was excited but bored with all the “hen-talking.” He sat there with his chin in his hand and his elbow on his leg, watching television and laughing whenever he thought he was supposed to. The nurses got everything ready, and one of them told the doctor on call that I would be ready any time. At 7:30 a.m., I was at 10 centimeters and the nurse said I could push any time. My mom stood on one side and Greg on the other. My sisters were behind the nurse. I pushed for around twenty minutes, but not much was happening. The doctor came in and started doing something down there that was very uncomfortable. He said he was making room for the baby to come out. I pushed for another ten minutes, and she crowned. I was so excited and couldn’t wait to see what she looked like. I pushed for another ten minutes, and her head came out. Three more pushes, and my daughter was born. My mom and sisters started to cry, which of course made me cry. Greg cut the umbilical cord, and I got to hold her for a minute before they took her away. She weighed 5 pounds, 3 ounces, and

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was 18 inches long. Unbelievably, she didn’t need oxygen and was able to breathe normally on her own. She only had to stay in the hospital for five days, and then we brought her home. My mom stayed with us for another three weeks to help out, which was great. We named our daughter Reagan (yes, we are Republicans!), and Elizabeth after my grandmother, and Rose after my mom. Reagan Elizabeth Rose Lipske was perfect and gorgeous, and we can’t wait to do it all over again!

That can’t be right! Kathy Colbern Marietta, Georgia

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ne week before my due date, my doctor estimated our baby’s birth weight to be about 7 or 8 pounds. He said that was a very healthy weight for a baby. At the time, I was dilated to 1 centimeter. On December 29, I went to the hospital when my contractions were four minutes apart and lasting twenty seconds. I was dilated to a four, and the nurse broke my water. There was still plenty of time, and I was feeling really good, so she said I could walk the hallway. My doctor was on vacation, and the on-call doctor had a family emergency (I think his mom died), so they were waiting for another doctor to come in. My husband and I had been walking for twenty minutes when the pains started to become very strong. My girlfriends had told me to try and walk as much as I could because it would help. Plus, they said, if I was getting Pitocin or an epidural block, I would be in bed for the remaining time, so I wanted to get through as much labor as possible before getting into bed. About forty minutes into walking and contracting, I felt something really strange. I thought maybe the baby had dropped, and

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then I realized it was really dropping. I immediately went to the floor with one knee down and the other leg straight out. (I think that’s a cheerleading move.) I told my husband that I could feel the baby coming out. My first response was to lie down and push. But my husband didn’t want to leave me where I was—on the floor around the corner and down the hall from the nurses’ station. He started yelling “Help!” so loudly that I yelled at him not to be so loud in the hospital. I think, in my state of mind, I was thinking library, not hospital. A nurse came around the corner, saw me, and then turned around and yelled down the hallway. She came back and tried to help me up, but I was screaming at her that the baby was coming. She pulled my gown up and could see the baby’s head. She told me not to push yet, but I couldn’t help it. She kept saying not to push, and I started screaming at her that I had to. Two other nurses came around the corner with a wheelchair and a blanket, and asked if I could stand up and sit in the chair. I told them no, but they tried to pick me up! I was yelling at them to leave me alone and that the baby was coming. I started pushing, and they put the blanket under me. I pushed four times and delivered a healthy baby boy right there in the hospital hallway.

Patrick Alexander weighed 12 pounds even. I remember the nurse saying, “That can’t be right,” and weighing him again. The scale still said 12 pounds. I did tear, which wasn’t a big surprise considering the size of Patrick. I obviously had no drugs, which I had always thought I would. But then I never thought I would deliver my son in a hallway. Yes, it hurt, but it happened so fast that I didn’t have time to think about it. Patrick is now seven months old, and we adore him so much!

Twin girls and a bonus Liz Adams Jacksonville, Florida

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was married only three weeks when I got pregnant at age thirtytwo. We did not discover I was carrying twins until the ultrasound. I was relieved because the results of the alpha-fetoprotein blood test could have meant an abnormality. Fortunately, my test results meant that I was having twins. I had a fairly uneventful pregnancy, though at six months I started to become very uncomfortable and looked full term. My feet and ankles were swollen, and I had gained 70 pounds. I am five feet tall and weighed 110 pounds prior to getting pregnant, so I was quite a sight. At thirty-two weeks, I stopped working. Two days later, I started bleeding and went to the hospital. Once at the hospital, I started labor but did not progress. The bleeding was determined to be due to placenta abruption, so they performed an emergency Cesarean section with general anesthesia. My husband and I were very scared. But my beautiful girls Ellie and Sarah were born healthy, both weighing just over 4 pounds, on May 25. They required minor care in the neonatal intensive care unit and came home after thirteen days.

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Fast-forward six years. We added another girl to our family on March 23. Baby Louise was an easy pregnancy, and she was born only two days early. I awoke in the middle of the night to discover my water had broken. I drove myself to the hospital so my husband wouldn’t have to wake up the twins at 3:00 a.m.! He joined me later after he took the girls to school. At 3 centimeters dilated, I was a wimp and had to have an epidural block. The pain was excruciating. I think labor is worse with a previous C-section because of all the scar tissue. At least, that’s my theory. After twelve hours of labor, I was only at 5 centimeters, and my cervix was starting to swell up and close. Baby Louise was not dropping down as she should have been. The decision was made to do a C-section. I was very disappointed because I really wanted to experience a vaginal birth. I got over that, however, and this C-section went much better than the first one. I was awake and able to hear and see Louise the moment she was born. She weighed 7 pounds, 9 ounces. It was wonderful! The recovery and post-surgery pain was much easier the second time. Nothing compares to motherhood, and I love my three girls with all my heart. Louise is almost three years old, and the twins are eight years old.

Four weeks early and long labor Brenda Erickson New Haven, Connecticut

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xactly four weeks before I was due, I noticed some spotting when I got out of bed around 7:30 a.m. This completely alarmed me, so I called my husband Jeffrey, who had just walked into his office. He said to call the doctor, who told me to go straight to the hospital. I called Jeffrey back and told him that I was going there. He said to wait, and he would come and get me. I told him it would be faster if I met him there, and I could just call my mom to take me. He said he wanted to go with me and just to wait. I finally screamed, “Oh my God, Jeffrey! Stop arguing with me, and just go to the hospital!” I was a little scared. I called my mom, who lived three blocks away, and she came and got me. When we arrived at the hospital, I was hooked up to a monitor and examined by the nurse. She said I was dilated to 3 centimeters and was probably going to have the baby by the end of the day. Jeffrey showed up shortly after that and freaked out when he heard the news. He sat down, stood up, sat down, walked to me and held my hand, sat down again, and then stood up and announced he was calling his parents. My mom also left to make some calls.

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I was taken to the delivery room and waited for Jeffrey, who ended up calling his employer, his best friend, my best friend, his brothers…While waiting for Jeffrey, I also waited for something to happen, like for the contractions to start. But nothing happened… for another hour. Then I started to feel a hardening or tightening in my lower abdomen that lasted around twenty seconds. It felt like the baby was stretching really hard. My mom was back by then after calling my dad and my sisters. I told her I just had a contraction, and she actually clapped her hands together and said, “Yeah!” My husband came back while I was having my second contraction, which was four minutes after my first. Another “Yeah!” from my mom and more clapping. I asked her if she was going to do this every time I had a contraction. She laughed. My doctor came in with a nurse, asked me some questions, and then examined me. She said I was still at a three and could either walk or reconsider “medical assistance.” I didn’t want drugs of any kind unless medically necessary, so we opted for the walk. Jeffrey took the first shift, and we walked for over an hour. My contractions were still about four minutes apart. My mom took the next shift, and we walked for another hour. Still four minutes apart. My doctor suggested I go home and wait until either my water broke or the contractions were closer together. She said the baby was fine but just not ready to come out. I could be at a three for the remainder of the pregnancy, she said; she just didn’t know. I agreed only because nothing was happening. On a scale of one to ten, my pain was a five, which wasn’t bad. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to be in the comfort of my own home. So we all left and went home. On the way, my husband called everyone to say we were headed back home. We decided

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to stop and have a late lunch–early dinner. Of course, we chose Mexican food because I wanted the spiciest food I could handle. After lunch-dinner, we went home and I walked the first floor for two hours. I was still having contractions every four minutes and still on a pain scale of five…maybe six. After the two hours of walking, I wanted to try to sleep, which I did off and on for the next four hours. I got up at 6:30 p.m. and was hungry again, so we ordered Chinese food. My contractions continued every four minutes like clockwork. Around 8:00 p.m., they became a little closer together, and by 10:30 p.m., they were three minutes apart. Progress! My mom said I should try to get some sleep, so I went to bed. I slept, but not deeply because the contractions came so often. It was like when you are cramping with your period and don’t have anything to take. You sleep, but you don’t sleep because of the pain.

At 4:00 a.m., I got up to go to the bathroom and then to the kitchen for some leftover Chinese food. As soon as I sat down at the kitchen table, my water broke. I went to the bathroom and cleaned up. My contractions were still about three minutes apart, but the pain scale felt higher. I woke up my mom and my husband, and we went back to the hospital. A different nurse checked me and said I was dilated to a five. Since I didn’t want any drugs, she said I should walk some more and see if that helped. So my mom and I walked for an hour, and then my mom and my husband and I walked for another hour. The contractions felt the same, and the pain felt the same. But after a while, I had to keep stopping because of the pain. It was really starting to hurt. I was breathing really heavily and kept leaning over during the contractions. The pains got so bad that I just wanted to lie down.

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By the time I got back to my room, I was in so much pain that I told my mom and Jeffrey that I didn’t think I could do this without something. They were really supportive, which made me want to try without anything. The nurse came in and saw how much pain I was in. She checked me, and I was at a seven. She watched me through the contractions and said that it was noted that I didn’t want any medication, but if I changed my mind, to let her know. I caved! I was in so much pain and this was taking so long and I was getting so tired…so I asked for an epidural block. Twenty minutes later, the anesthesiologist came in and gave me the epidural. It wasn’t as bad as I had expected. I think I was in so much agony that a little prick felt like nothing. I felt so good after the epidural! I asked Jeffrey and my mom if they could sit in the hall so I could take a nap. It felt good to actually sleep. The nurse had to wake me up to check me at 1:30 p.m. She said that the monitor showed I was having contractions every sixty seconds that were lasting forty-five seconds. Sure enough, I was at a ten. The on-call doctor came in, and the nurse ran to get my mom and my husband. I pushed for about thirty minutes, but the baby wouldn’t come out. I think I lost my focus (or mind) because I somehow didn’t hear the doctor tell me to stop pushing because she wanted to give me a tiny episiotomy. When she cut, I pushed and ended up with a fourth-degree tear, which is the worst you can have. My son came out during that push while I was tearing. Of course, the doctor started yelling to stop pushing, but it was too late. My husband cut the cord, and of course, my mom clapped again and said, “Yeah!” I held my son, who we named after his father, for a few minutes, and then they took him to check him out. Baby Jeffrey got a very clean bill of health. He was 7 pounds, 3 ounces! That is huge for a baby that is one month early. Everyone was amazed!

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I got stitched inside and out for almost an hour. When that was finished, they took me to the room I would have until I left the hospital. They brought my son two hours later. By then the entire family was there, and it was wonderful. It took me four weeks to recover, and I was scared to death to go to the bathroom. I kept imagining breaking my stitches. Having Jeffrey has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love him with all my heart. Having a child truly changes your life. I remember people saying when I was pregnant that having a baby changes you and that you have never known so much love. I listened, but I didn’t understand how true their statements were. It is amazing!

I did it my way but almost didn’t make it Melissa W. Bristol, Rhode Island

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was due on March 15 with our second daughter. My first had been a hospital labor and delivery with a spinal block and “patchy” epidural block, which means that some areas hadn’t been anesthetized. Giving birth had taken thirty-eight hours of labor (including sixteen at home and two hours of pushing). I’m sure the epidural made it last much longer. Hindsight is 20/20, but this time I felt I knew better. I educated myself and knew the kind of pain I’d be facing. So around 3:00 p.m. on March 16, I went in to see the doctor. He checked me and said, “You’re barely 1 centimeter dilated and 50 to 60 percent effaced. She’s still really high.”

My doctor understood my desires and had read my birth plan. Even though I was more than ready to go, I did not want to be induced. Instead, I asked him to strip my membranes. It hadn’t worked with my first baby, but I wanted to give it another shot. He begrudgingly complied.

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After my appointment, my husband and I went shopping, and I walked as much as I could. That evening I had a few minor contractions, and my husband and I decided to “seal the deal” by having intercourse. Not long after, my contractions got more uncomfortable, but they were still very far apart and inconsistent. I called my parents around 9:00 p.m. to tell them they should pack the car just in case. They were driving four hours to watch our daughter. I figured this would be another long labor, and I didn’t really have any backup for my daughter except our neighbors, if they were home. I went to bed knowing that I would need my rest if this really was it. Around midnight, I woke up with bad contractions. They were more intense but still inconsistent. I let my husband sleep and went downstairs to lie on the couch. I rode out the contractions using parts of the Bradley Method I had read about in a book my doula had given me. I really focused on relaxing each and every muscle in my body as the contractions came. It helped a lot. I can’t remember what time it was (maybe 3:00 a.m.), but I called my doula and told her it was going to be today, St. Patty’s Day. I told her I was fine so far and to stay home. I then called my parents and told them to get on the road. I continued to ride out each contraction using my relaxation technique. Around 4:30 or 5:00 a.m., the contractions were getting closer together, so I woke up my husband to time the contractions as I took a shower. We realized the contractions were still inconsistent, but they were about five minutes apart and sixty seconds long. My daughter heard us and woke up. She wanted to lie down with me. I tried, but the contractions were getting stronger, and I couldn’t handle having her climbing on me while I tried to focus. I called my doula to come over. My husband took our daughter downstairs, where she started crying. I went down to her, but I realized that the pain was becoming more than I could bear, and we

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needed to go to the hospital. My husband tried to talk me out of it. Being a typical male, he had never read the books and didn’t know anything about the “signposts” of transition. He told me to try the birthing ball. Ha! I opted for the bathtub instead. As I waited for it to fill, I started getting the shakes (one sign of transition). I got in the bath, but it didn’t help. I immediately felt sick and ended up vomiting over the side onto the floor (the second sign). I told my husband to take our daughter to the neighbors’ before they left. I got out of the bath and dressed while my husband took our daughter next door and began loading the car. He took his time, which really ticked me off. I was losing control now. I started screaming at him and calling him names (the third sign). The whole time, he didn’t believe I was that close to delivering. We redirected our doula to the hospital and headed out on our thirty-minute ride to get there. On the way to the hospital, I was out of control; I knew our baby was coming. I told him to “safely” run the red lights and speed. We must have passed four cops. I waved frantically each time, but none of them pulled us over! We finally got to the hospital and I screamed for a wheelchair. The contractions were coming hard and fast now. I felt like the baby was on her way out. My husband left the car in front of the door and gave the security guy the keys. We quickly got to Maternity, where the staff was very nonchalant about our arrival. They asked if I was a first-time mom. I screamed, “No! Now get me the damn anesthesiologist!” (the fourth sign). My husband said, “No, you don’t want drugs.” At that point, I wanted a boulder dropped on my head! I didn’t know which end was up and didn’t care! They got me onto the bed and calmly told me they would have to check me before giving

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me drugs. My doula arrived, and my husband ran downstairs to move the car. The nurse checked me, and when my doula asked how far along I was, the nurse replied, “All I feel is the head coming down.” About then, I had the most amazing urge to push. I told them I had to push and just went for it. I think it was during the second push that my water broke and my husband walked back in. I never considered waiting for him; I just had to push. My doctor hadn’t arrived yet (the cops pulled him over on his way in, ironically enough,) so the resident doctor filled in. On about my fourth push, I felt the baby’s head come out. I felt the “ring of fire,” but it wasn’t a big deal; I just wanted her out. I blew through a few contractions while they suctioned her mouth and nose. Then I pushed her all the way out. At 7:05 a.m. on March 17, Hayden Reese was born. She arrived about ten minutes after we reached the hospital, and my husband never believed it would happen so fast. Always remember to go with your gut! Mommy always knows better than anyone. I have to say the pain was intense, but this birth was by far more rewarding and amazing than my first daughter’s—way better than being strapped down to a monitor and an IV line. I don’t think we’ll have any more kids, but if we do, I’ll go for the Bradley Method in a second!

Baby girl born early Stephanie Williamson Jacksonville, Arkansas

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was at thirty-four weeks when my daughter decided it was time to say, “Hello, world!” My baby shower was on January 14, and it was so much fun. After the shower, I was helping load my husband’s SUV with the gifts when I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I hunched over and held my stomach, and the pain went away. Everyone starting freaking out and thought I was in labor and should call 911. I told them all to relax because the pain had ended. My mom had me sit down, just to be on the safe side, and everyone waited to see if I would have another “contraction.” After thirty minutes, I told them that this was ridiculous and that I had a baby room to put together with all of the new presents. I was so anxious to get home and put everything away! The next morning was Sunday, and I was lying in bed wondering whether I wanted to get up and go to church or stay in bed. I lay there contemplating, and suddenly I felt a huge gush of liquid come out of me. I knew what that was—my water had just broken, and I was only thirty-four weeks pregnant. I went to the bathroom to clean up, and then I changed my clothes. I called for my husband Bryan, but he wasn’t around. So I called

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his cell phone and found out that he had gone to Dunkin’ Donuts to get us coffee and doughnuts. I told him to get home because my water had just broken and we had to get to the hospital. After that, I called the hospital and told them what was happening, and they told me to come in. I had thought I was supposed to wait until I started having contractions. But they said that the water breaking was an indication that labor had started, and since I was only at thirty-four weeks, I needed to get there as soon as I could. I called my brother and told him that we were leaving for the hospital. I said I didn’t know when we would be back and reminded him that he was taking care of our two dogs. I must have lectured him for ten minutes about not forgetting. He finally got frustrated and said, “Would you just go have that baby already?” Brothers. Bryan got home about ten minutes later. I had quickly showered, changed again, and thrown some stuff in a bag. That didn’t include the video camera. Since this was much earlier than we had anticipated, we hadn’t had a chance to charge the camera after the baby shower and we had used the last tape. We got to the hospital around 10:45 a.m. They took me to triage to check me and hook me up to the monitor. While they were doing this, they asked if I was having contractions, and I said, “No.” They asked when I had last felt the baby move. I realized then that I hadn’t noticed any movement, and I mentioned the sharp pain when I was loading presents into the truck. But everything turned out to be fine because our baby’s heartbeat was loud and perfect. The doctor on call came to see me and told us he wasn’t going to induce me or give me a C-section because this was too early for the baby. I was surprised because I thought once the water had broken, the baby had to be delivered. That wasn’t always true, he said, but I’d need to be in the hospital for at least a few days so they could watch me. He said they wanted to hold off my labor until at least thirty-seven weeks, which meant three weeks of bed

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rest when I got home. He wouldn’t even examine me internally because he said he didn’t want to interfere or do anything to make my body start labor. I was shocked because I had really thought we were going to the hospital to have our daughter. Bryan and I were so disappointed to hear this. I wanted to ask if my doctor could come to see me, but I was embarrassed and didn’t want to upset anyone. Before the doctor left, he ordered an ultrasound. They also gave me a shot of steroids to accelerate the baby’s lung development. Around noon, I started feeling lower-back pains and an intense ache in my lower belly. I thought maybe this was normal, but after a few minutes without it stopping, I mentioned the pain to one of the nurses. She said that this was perfectly normal, that women sometimes feel cramps after their water breaks. I kept whispering to Bryan that I thought I was in labor, and he didn’t know what to do. Around 12:30 p.m., they took me to have my ultrasound. By then I was having trouble talking because of the pain. When they finished, they took me back to my room and brought me lunch. Eating was difficult because of my “contractions,” so Bryan picked at my food. We sat there and just waited. A nurse came around 2:00 p.m. to check on me, and I told her that I was really in pain. Again, she said that the doctor said I wasn’t in labor. I think she felt sorry for me, but they were really busy that day. She said the doctor was finishing his second C-section and had two more lined up, as well as four other moms in labor on the floor. By now my mom had shown up. The minute she walked in the door, I started crying. I told her I thought I was in labor, but no one was listening to me. My mom went ballistic. She shoos flies out of the house because she can’t kill them and lets strangers with thirty items cut in front of her at the grocery store when she has two. But

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now she went crazy. She went out in the hallway, and I heard her shouting. I also could hear the nurse telling my mom to quiet down or she would be asked to leave. “I would like to see you remove me from this hospital,” my mom said. “You get that doctor here now to check my daughter—and if he is busy, find another.” My mom came back in. Her face was red, and I could tell she wanted to cry. We’re a crying group of gals. After twenty minutes, Bryan went downstairs to call my doctor’s office. He asked to speak to my doctor, saying that it was an emergency. When he came back, he said that my doctor was on her way. About thirty minutes later, my doctor came in with the nurse who had been rude to my mom. I was so happy to see my doctor that I started crying again. She was shocked when she saw me. I was sweating badly, could barely breathe, and was starting to get on all fours. That only helped for about two minutes before I shifted to lying on my back. I told her that I was in labor and needed something for the pain. She immediately threw my gown up and screamed, “She’s at ten! Move now!” The nurse ran out and came back with two more nurses and equipment, plus a gown, glasses, and gloves for my doctor. One of the nurses started my IV line. I felt relieved that this was going to be over and that my wonderful doctor was there to take care of me. My doctor asked me to push as hard as I could because the baby was crowning. I tried, but it hurt so much that after the count of four or five, I would stop. The nurses coached me through it. The one that had been mean to my mom was now holding my hand and talking calmly to me. My mom was behind me, wiping me with a cool towel someone had handed her. A half hour earlier I had been ignored, but now I had three nurses and my doctor there. It was wild. It was even more so because I wasn’t on any

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drugs! There was no epidural, which I had always thought would be part of my delivery. I continued to push through three more contractions, and my doctor said the baby’s head was visible. It was funny because everyone left me to look “down there.” “Hey, everyone,” I thought, “up here!” I pushed two more times, and the head came out. My doctor started to clean the baby’s mouth out. She said to push once more, and my daughter was born. My wonderful doctor let me hold her for ten seconds. I just held her and stared at her. She was tiny, but she looked perfect. Bryan and I kissed her and told her that Mommy and Daddy would see her in a little while. They took her into the adjoining room and then wheeled her away. I asked if she was okay, and the mean nurse turned around, smiled, and said, “She’s beautiful and looks great.” She was no longer the mean nurse; she was now my best friend. I had forgotten that I had to push out the afterbirth. I thought I would only have to push once and it would come out. But it didn’t. I pushed and pushed, and it wouldn’t come out. My doctor said it wasn’t ready to come out because of the early birth. They gave me oxytocin to help me contract and expel. By now I thought I was going to throw up. My doctor kept pulling and trying to get it out. She even put her hand up there, which was really painful. Getting the afterbirth out took more than twenty minutes. By then I was exhausted and in so much pain. But I didn’t tear, which was amazing! I asked for something for the pain, and the nurse brought me some pills and water. My doctor was wonderful and said I did a great job. I thanked her for coming and asked if it was her day off. She said she had been at the office for a meeting when Bryan called. I told her how grateful I was, and she said that was what she was there for. My doctor said she would check on my baby and then come to my room. I stayed there another twenty or twenty-five minutes, and then they took

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me to my room. My mom and Bryan were so happy and excited, and they kept telling me how beautiful my daughter was. Twenty minutes after I reached the room, my doctor came back with the report. Our baby’s Apgar scores were both eight. She weighed 4 pounds, 14 ounces, and was doing great. The doctor said we could see the baby in about fifteen minutes, after she was hooked up to a machine. Ten minutes later, a nurse brought me a wheelchair, and we all went to see her. She had tubes and wires all over her body, but she looked beautiful to us. The pediatrician said they had given her surfactant because her lungs weren’t fully developed. He explained that surfactant is formed naturally relatively late in fetal life and that premature infants born without adequate amounts can experience respiratory distress and may die. They also had to put her on a ventilator because she was working too hard to breathe. He said it was lucky that she had been born at this hospital because they had an outstanding neonatal intensive care unit and she would be in safe hands. We went back to our room an hour later because I was so tired and needed to sleep. I told Bryan to go home and make sure my brother had taken our dogs out. My mom wanted to stay with me, but I told her to go home and finish getting ready for the baby. I realized then that we hadn’t given the baby a name yet! Everyone at the hospital was calling her “Baby Williamson.” I told Bryan that we needed to decide on a name. We had considered a number of names for a girl: Bailey, Tiffany, Hailey, Emma, and Grace. We talked for a while, but I got tired and told Bryan to see to the dogs because I just wanted to sleep. We would decide on her name later. I slept for four hours and woke up when a nurse came to check

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on me and bring me dinner. I was doing fine but asked for more pain medication. Bryan came back two hours later and said he had found my brother sitting in the backyard and watching the dogs. We went to see our daughter again and got to sit with her for a few hours. Bryan wanted to stay the night with me, but I told him there wasn’t any reason to do that and I would see him in the morning. The next morning, my doctor came to see me. She said she had seen the baby, who was doing better. The pediatrician had told my doctor that our daughter could go home in two weeks as long as she continued to do well. My doctor talked with me for a while, and as she was talking, I realized that my baby’s savior was sitting in front of me. She was the reason for everything working out so well. I knew her name was Megan from paperwork I had read in her office. I knew then that my daughter should be named Megan for my doctor, with the middle name Leigh for Bryan’s middle name (spelled Lee). I didn’t say anything, though, because I wanted to talk to Bryan first. Bryan agreed when he visited later. We went to see Megan Leigh, and the name fit her perfectly. I went home the following afternoon, and leaving Megan was the hardest thing. I cried and cried, but I knew she was safe and the nurses were treating her well. I got everything ready for her and slept a lot. I even made a month’s worth of dinners and froze them. Megan came home sixteen days later, and we had her sleep in her bassinet in our bedroom. I was trying to catch up on every second I hadn’t been with her when she was in the hospital. She is a great baby, and we love her to pieces. My doctor was thrilled that we named Megan after her. We told her while Megan was still in the hospital, and she was the fourth person to hold her (after me, Bryan, and my mom). In fact, we have a framed picture of Doctor Megan holding Megan that hangs in Megan’s bedroom. I look at it every day and thank God for the two Megans who changed my life.

Quick for a first-time mom Ilona Pope Liberty Hill, Texas

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was unfortunately alone while pregnant with my son, but I couldn’t have been happier. Since I didn’t have my partner to help me through the delivery, my siblings chipped in and paid a doula to be with me during the birth. I was teaching at the time and wanted to finish the semester before delivering. I was very determined. On the last day of exams, four days past my due date, I had a lot of cramping in the morning. I felt uncomfortable the rest of the afternoon, but I completed my grades and went home satisfied. As soon as I got home, I felt I was mentally ready to deliver this baby. So I thought I would help things along physically with a castor oil cocktail. I drank the orange juice and oil mix about 3:00 p.m. and sat back and waited. My parents had come to town the day before, and my mom fixed dinner around 6:00 p.m. We all had a pleasant meal and cleaned up the house. Around 9:00 p.m., exactly six hours later— the time I had heard it would take for the castor oil to work—my contractions started. I called my doula. She advised me to take a shower and, if the contractions continued, to call her back. After my shower, around

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10:00 p.m., I was back on the phone telling her the contractions were stronger. She arrived at my house around 10:30 p.m. She massaged my back, instructed me to stretch on the birthing ball, and made me feel like my labor pains were a breeze! I was very relaxed until I felt a small pop and rushed to the bathroom. Around 12:30 a.m., my water broke. My doula rushed me into her car, and my parents followed behind us. We arrived at the hospital at 1:00 a.m. The staff asked the usual questions and, realizing I was a first-time mother, didn’t consider me a priority. The nurse placed me in the triage room and checked me. I was only 5 centimeters dilated. She then put me in a wheelchair and decided it would be a while since this was my first baby. They needed to get a room ready, so they left me in the hall.

Luckily, my doula never left my side. About fifteen minutes later, I told her something was wrong, that I didn’t feel good. I told her I wasn’t sure what it was, but I felt like I had to go to the bathroom. She took me to the restroom, but I couldn’t go. Of course, I didn’t have any idea that this was the sensation of needing to push. Several times my doula asked a nurse to check me again. Finally, about ten minutes later, one of the nurses finally did, right there in the chair because my doula was so insistent. I was 10 centimeters and crowning! That got the nurses moving! They threw me in a bed, yelled at each other to find the doctor, and kept telling me not to push. The doctor walked in the door at 1:45 a.m. After a few short pushes, my son was delivered at 1:57 a.m. He was 8 pounds, 1 ounce, and very healthy. There had been no time for an IV line, and I had barely gotten the hospital gown on. My claim to fame has always been that I

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delivered my first child without any painkillers—and the only thing I received from the hospital was a single ice chip! I have been a mother now for almost eight years and, since that first delivery, have had two more, each one getting easier.

Suzaan, our miracle Martie van Biljon Vanderbijlpark, Gauteng, South Africa

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ust after I turned 16, I was diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome and put on the pill to correct my hormone imbalance. The doctor told me that I would struggle to become pregnant on my own and that the chances of miscarriage were high. It didn’t bother me at that stage because I was so young. But after four years of marriage, my husband and I decided we wanted to start a family. So after discussing it with our general practitioner, I stopped using birth control. On December 27, I found out I was nine weeks pregnant. We were so happy! We did it without any medical assistance. Unfortunately, I had a miscarriage on January 2. On April 11, I took a pregnancy test because I hadn’t really had a menstrual cycle since the miscarriage. The test was positive. I was pregnant again but too afraid to be happy. I went to see my doctor. He confirmed by ultrasound that I was about eight weeks pregnant, and we could hear a strong, healthy heartbeat. We waited until I was more than twelve weeks before we told anyone. Everybody told me I could relax then because not much can go wrong after twelve weeks, but I just couldn’t relax. After my twentiethweek checkup, I finally started to relax; everything was going great.

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At twenty-two weeks, I started to bleed at work. I rushed to the doctor’s office and was admitted to the hospital for prelabor. I was devastated—not again, I thought. After a day, the bleeding stopped. It had been caused by a vein that ruptured underneath my uterus due to the pressure from the baby. I was sent home with instructions to stay off my feet for at least a week. Everything went well until thirty weeks. Again at work, I felt a strange pain and just knew something was wrong. I went to the bathroom, only to confirm my worst fears—I was bleeding again, but much worse than the previous time. I went straight to hospital, where I was admitted again for prelabor. The doctor gave me something to stop the contractions and bleeding, and something else to mature the baby’s lungs, just to be safe. After a few days, the contractions and bleeding stopped, and I went home for more bed rest. After this, we decided that I should have a Cesarean section. We just weren’t up for any more surprises. We asked God to just let the baby stay until thirty-eight weeks, and she did. At 5:00 a.m. on November 11, we went to the hospital to be admitted and get ready for surgery. At 7:45 a.m. I was wheeled to the operating room. While they injected the spinal block, my husband got ready to join us. I thought they were about to start without him, but then I saw him walking through the doors. I felt great. I had none of the side effects everyone had talked about having during a spinal C-section, like headaches.

At 8:10 a.m., Suzaan was born. Her head had just been lifted out of the womb when she started crying. It was the most beautiful sound ever. They cut the umbilical cord, wrapped her in a towel, and laid her on my chest.

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We had made it! We had a healthy baby girl of 2.6 kilograms and 46 centimeters (5 pounds, 11 ounces, and 18 inches), with Apgar scores of ten each time. After four days, we went home as a happy, healthy family. Suzaan is almost two, and some days I still feel like I am dreaming. The doctors still can’t believe I became pregnant and kept the baby for the whole pregnancy. Suzaan is our miracle baby. Everything was worth it!

My sweet (big) baby girl Allie McDonaldson Lancaster, Pennsylvania

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found out that I was pregnant for the first time at a Walgreens drugstore. I had a feeling that I was pregnant, so my girlfriend and I stopped at the store. I bought the test, and since we were too anxious to drive the whole ten minutes home, I took the test in the bathroom at the store. It was positive, and we started laughing hysterically because we were so excited. We went back into the store and bought a cute, little baby gift bag, and pink and blue tissue paper. I wrapped up the test strip and put it in the bag so I could give it to my husband as a gift later that night. I gave my husband Ed the gift bag after dinner. He looked so confused, and when he pulled out the test strip, he had no idea what it was! I gave him a look like, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I was so excited that I had thought his reaction would be incredible and that he would hug me and kiss me. Instead he had no idea what it was. I told him, “It’s a pregnancy test, you moron. I’m pregnant.” The delayed reaction was what I had hoped for—hugs and kisses. The pregnancy went great. I loved being pregnant and watching my belly grow. I ate all the time and really thought nothing of it. I knew I was gaining a lot of weight and, for the last few months,

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I became very large. I always knew that I would probably have a big baby, especially since I am a large woman. When I was born, I weighed almost 12 pounds, as did my sister and two brothers. Ed was a little over 10 pounds, so I was fairly sure that I would have big babies. I started to get worried about it, though, because I didn’t want to have a Cesarean section. My doctor told me not to worry, saying that I could handle a large baby. I was 165 pounds (and five foot, six inches tall) before getting pregnant and had gained forty-five pounds, but still I was worried. Two days after my due date, I had an appointment to see my doctor. I was dilated to a three, and I was so uncomfortable that I actually cried in the doctor’s office. So my doctor made a phone call to the hospital and told me to pack my bags. Ed and I drove there a few hours later and checked in. The nurse put something in my cervix to get my contractions started. Nothing happened for two hours, so she broke my water and started me on Pitocin. The pain came so fast that I was shocked. I was so uncomfortable that I couldn’t wait to get the epidural block.

Ed just sat there watching television the entire time. I don’t think he knew what to do because I was really in my own world. I honestly didn’t want to talk, and the television helped distract me a little, too, between contractions. When the nurse came back to check me, I was finally at a five. She said she would call and get me the epidural. I was so happy. By the time the anesthesiologist came, I was already at a six, so I was really hurting. After the epidural, I was in heaven!

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After twenty-two hours of labor (including more than three hours of pushing, a large episiotomy, and forceps), Brenna Elizabeth Kay was born on January 30. She weighed 12 pounds, 14 ounces, and was 22 inches long. She had so much hair that she looked like a two-month-old baby! Brenna is almost eight months old, weighs over 27 pounds, and is doing great.

Great expectations run amok Rachel Karlsen Gadsden, Alabama

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n January 21, when I was thirty-eight weeks pregnant, my husband and I arrived at the hospital for a scheduled induction. We checked in and were taken to the third floor to our labor, delivery, and recovery room. It was small compared to the one they had shown us on our tour of the hospital a month earlier. Three nurses met me when we entered the room. One gave me a gown and asked me to take off all my clothes. I went into the bathroom to change. As I was changing, another nurse asked me questions about my history and other questions they are told to ask as procedure. When I came out of the bathroom, I was told to get in the bed so that the monitors could be placed on my belly and the IV line started. This was my first IV, and I was scared to have one, but it didn’t hurt more than a little prick. After my husband and I were comfy, everyone left the room. I was so excited about the upcoming birth of our first child. About fifteen minutes later, my doctor came in. She told me that we would be starting the induction with a Pitocin drip and the breaking of my water. My doctor checked my cervix, and I was at

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1 centimeter and 50 percent effaced. Some people say that having your water broken doesn’t hurt. That may be true if you’re dilated past 4 centimeters. But having mine broken hurt, and I almost kicked my doctor. If my husband hadn’t been holding me down, I think I would have come up off the bed. When my water broke, I felt a warm gush, like I was peeing on myself. It felt so weird. My doctor patted my arm and told me she would be back in about two hours to check me again. Ten minutes later, the anesthesiologist came in. He told me that he was going to put in the epidural catheter so that when the contractions got to be too much for me, all I would have to do was ask for the medication. This confused me, but I agreed. They wouldn’t let my husband stay in the room during this procedure, so he had to wait outside. First, the anesthesiologist numbed the area of my back where the epidural would go. That stung a little at first, like a beesting. As he put the needle in different spots, I felt it less and less. Once my back was numb, he began to insert the big needle. I didn’t feel it when it went into my skin, but when it entered my spinal area, I could feel it. It didn’t hurt; it was just uncomfortable, like an achy neck or back. As he moved the needle around, trying to find the right spot, it began to hurt, and I was very uncomfortable. I felt like I was at the dentist and he was poking a cavity. Tears came to my eyes, and I wished that my husband were there. After about three passes with three different needles, the anesthesiologist finally had the right spot. He placed the catheter and took out the needle. After that he pushed just a little bit of fluid through the catheter. It was cold, and I could feel the liquid going into my back and my spine. It was a weird sensation. When he finished, he told me that when I was ready, I should tell the nurse, and he would come back and give me the medication.

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About an hour later, that time came. My contractions shot up out of nowhere, and I was in major pain. The pain was sharp. It moved from my back to my front, and my belly tightened. My back kept hurting even after the contraction had passed. I asked the nurse for my epidural. Ten minutes later, the anesthesiologist was in my room giving me the medicine. After twenty minutes passed, I was still in pain, so I called the nurse. I asked her how long the medication should take to kick in and why mine wasn’t working. She asked me if I could feel my legs. I told her that at first they tingled, but then that stopped. She scratched her head and left the room. A few minutes later, the anesthesiologist was back, putting more medicine in the catheter. He sat there with my husband and me, and we waited. Twenty more minutes passed again, and still nothing, not even a tingle. He tried one more time with an epidural drip; still nothing. My husband and I couldn’t understand why the epidural wouldn’t work. We had never been told that it might not. In every story I had heard, it had worked, so obviously I thought it would work for me, too.

Each contraction became a new adventure. I had not taken classes on breathing and prepared childbirth, assuming that I wouldn’t need anything like that. It bothered my husband to see me in pain. He had to hold my hand during each contraction. He would tell me to breathe, and I would scream back that I was. It was rough for us both, but my husband did a good job. I know he was scared, but he handled the situation well. After about ten hours of hard back labor, I was ready to give up. Talk of a C-section came up between my husband and me. I

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told him that most likely we would be visiting the operating room and that he should be ready. He told me he felt the same way and that maybe we should just go for the C-section, considering that I hadn’t dilated past 2 centimeters. I asked the nurse to tell my doctor that we were considering a C-section. When my doctor came in, I could see by the look on her face that she had decided for us on the C-section. She told me that my lack of progress had put my baby in danger and a C-section was the only option left. My husband and I agreed. However, I was told that I would have to wait a little longer for surgery because a woman down the hall was in trouble and they needed to keep the operating room open in case of an emergency. Just to be safe, the doctor had an internal monitor placed on my baby’s head and on my uterus. She wanted to make sure that my baby was going to make it to surgery. After she left, my husband and I just held each other. I began to cry because I was scared. I didn’t want to have a C-section, and I had never had surgery before. We knew we had to call everyone to say that the baby was going to be born soon. I let my husband take charge of that. I needed some time alone to regroup and concentrate on the upcoming surgery. After my husband left to phone everyone, my nurse came in. She could see that I was upset and began to talk to me about the surgery. She told me that I had nothing to fear and that I would be in great hands. She explained the whole process and then asked me if I had any questions. After that, she shaved my belly and pubic hair and began prepping me for surgery. By an hour and a half later, most of my family and friends were in my room. My doctor said the surgery could not be performed for another hour. The woman down the hall had needed a C-section, so they had to clean the operating room and prep it for me. My doctor asked if I had any questions.

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My husband perked up and asked her, “If something happens and you have to get the baby out, how fast can you do it?” She giggled and told us that she could do that in less than a minute, but that I had nothing to worry about. The baby looked good on the monitor and was taking the labor well. An hour later, my nurse came back and asked everyone to leave the room, even my husband. She told him that he would see me in the operating room in a few minutes. We kissed each other goodbye. The nurse had me get into a wheelchair, and I was taken to the operating room. I was so nervous about the C-section that I thought I was going to make myself sick. The nurses helped me onto the operating table and began a conversation with me to calm my nerves. The anesthesiologist was there, and he began the spinal block. To be honest, the spinal block didn’t hurt at all. The only thing I felt was a tingle in both legs, and then he was done. Five seconds later, I was lying down and numb all the way. It is the most unusual feeling to feel nothing but your head, and that feeling made me sick. They gave me something for my nausea, and I threw up. A few minutes later, my husband came in. He patted me on the head and told me he loved me. I was so tired that I couldn’t keep my eyes open and so relaxed that I dozed off. I pretty much slept through my daughter’s birth. I did wake up when she first cried and again when they gave her to my husband to show to me. All I can remember are the bright lights and then seeing red hair. I don’t remember anything else; I was so out of it. I slept until it was time to move to the recovery room, but then I was wide awake. I asked the nurse how my baby did and was told she scored a nine out of ten on the Apgar scale. I was so happy to hear she was okay.

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Another nurse came in and asked me if I wanted to know how much she weighed. I told her yes. The nurse said she would tell me, but first told me to guess. I guessed that she was about 7 pounds and 20 inches. The nurse smiled really big and told me I was right. Our daughter weighed exactly 7 pounds and was 20 inches long. I couldn’t believe that I was right! After spending an hour in recovery, I was taken to my new room where all my family was waiting. My dad kissed my head and told me that my baby was the most beautiful baby ever. I was glad that they got to see her, but I was upset that I wasn’t able to hold her as soon as she was born. About an hour and thirty minutes after my child was born, I finally got to hold her for the first time—and I didn’t want to ever let her go.

Sunny-side up, baby Braxton Autumn Fagan Amity, Arkansas

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read every birth story I could get my hands on and looked at pregnancy websites every day until the baby’s arrival, trying to prepare for my birth. I was so excited to have another baby! We had a double blessing—our best friends were pregnant, too, due three days before us! The pregnancy started out a lot better than our first, when I had thrown up daily. With this second pregnancy, I felt sick a lot, but I only actually threw up twice. I wasn’t able to eat much, so I lost twelve pounds before I started gaining weight. I only gained fourteen pounds total, and nine of that was the baby! I was very happy to reach my fourth month because I started feeling much better. In November, we found out we were having a boy, which was fine with us. However, our four-year-old daughter Brittany really wanted a girl. She warmed up to the idea of a boy fairly quickly though. As my due date approached, I began to have a lot of back pain and Braxton Hicks contractions hourly during the last month. At each of my last doctor’s visits, I was dilating, but the baby was still very high.

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We live an hour from the hospital and our daughter had been born in four hours, so we decided on an induction. We were expecting a fairly easy delivery because Brittany had come so quickly. But this baby was not as compliant. Induction started at 8:00 a.m. on March 21 with Pitocin and breaking of the water. I was in terrible pain for a while, but it wasn’t contraction pain as with my daughter. I felt like my butt bone was going to break, and I kept telling the Labor and Delivery nurse this. She did not seem to listen. When it was time to push, I thought, “Yes!” It had only taken two pushes to get Brittany out. This time, after an hour and a half of pushing, the nurse actually complained, “Autumn, you’re the one who is going to have to push this baby out.” Finally she realized why the baby would not move down. He was turned sunny-side up, and he was a big baby (9 pounds, 1 ounce). She called in the doctor, who said he would try a vacuum extraction. If that didn’t work, we would have to go for an emergency Cesarean section. I looked over and saw that my husband and my mom were both crying. I told them to stop because that was not helping! Then I told them to pray. When my doctor hooked up the vacuum extractor, I pushed with all the strength I could muster. And out came Braxton Zayne. I was so relieved! They laid him on my chest and began to clean him up. When the nurse took him, my husband Chris stayed by my side and said, “I will never make you go through that again,” as tears fell from his eyes. It was hard for him to see me in so much pain and not be able to do anything to make it stop. I had a second-degree tear, which was nothing compared to the fourth-degree tear I had with my daughter. I healed quickly.

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It just goes to show you can never know what your labor will be like until it actually happens! Apparently only 2 to 4 percent of babies are born sunny-side up, and that position makes labor a lot harder. But I would do it again in a heartbeat for the joy that is our little boy Braxton Zayne! His big sis is absolutely crazy about him, by the way. She even said that he is much better than a girl baby after all.

Easy as 1-2-3 Emily O’Reilly St. Augustine, Florida

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knew I was pregnant the night we conceived Michael Jr. I just knew it and had no doubt. I started telling everyone that I was two days pregnant, then four days pregnant, and so on. I took a pregnancy test when we got back from our honeymoon, and it was positive. My doctor confirmed it two weeks later. Because of my age, I was considered high-risk, so I took it more than easy. My husband hired a housekeeper to come twice a week to do everything for me, and I concentrated on the baby. I also just knew that we were having a boy. I bought everything blue, and we named him Michael after my husband. My first sonogram confirmed that I was indeed having a boy. My husband was amazed at how I just knew everything, and looking back, it was strange that I knew by instinct. I gave birth on my delivery date. I woke up around 7:00 a.m., feeling that “today is the day.” Sure enough, around 9:00 a.m., I started going into labor. I called my husband, he came home, and we drove to the hospital. My labor wasn’t too bad. I labored for about eight hours but felt fairly good. During that time, my husband kept giving me little bites of food that he had brought up

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from the cafeteria. I know he shouldn’t have, but I was so hungry. Plus, I get migraines if I don’t eat, and he knows that. I asked for an epidural block when I was dilated to 5 centimeters, and I’m glad I did. I felt so much better and actually enjoyed the entire experience instead of worrying about the pain. My mom and sister came, and we had so much fun talking. We kept embarrassing my husband with our girl talk. He said locker rooms were cleaner.

When the nurse came to check on me, she said that I was ready to push. I was a bit surprised because I didn’t realize all the progress I had made. I guess nature is funny that way. When my doctor came in, my husband grabbed one leg, my mom grabbed the other, and my sister had the video camera. Only ten minutes later, I had our beautiful son. Michael weighed 6 pounds, 3 ounces, and was 19 inches long. The pushing was not as bad as I thought it would be. I had a friend tell me that if you want that baby out, pretend you are pushing him or her out to hit the wall across the room. She said, “Don’t just push; aim toward a wall!”—and it worked!

The longest labor but well worth it Cara Martin Fresno, California

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was overdue by nine days and was so uncomfortable. When I told my doctor this at what I hoped would be my last appointment, she completely sympathized and said she would “scrape” me right then. Doing this would probably start labor within twelve hours, she said. I jumped at the chance. It hurt a little, but at least I was on my way sooner rather than later. She also said to go to the hospital the next morning and tell them I was having contractions. She would be on duty then and would be the one to deliver my baby. If she had to, she said, she would put me on Pitocin. I was thrilled because she had been my doctor for three years. We arrived at the hospital at 8:00 a.m. the next morning. The monitors showed that I actually was having contractions, so I guess I hadn’t lied, but I didn’t feel anything.

Around 10:00 a.m., my contractions were still strong on the monitors, but I still didn’t feel anything. I was still at a zero, so the nurse said she might have to send me home.

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I didn’t want that to happen, because I had my heart set on having my baby that day. But I didn’t want to get my doctor in trouble by telling the nurse that I’d been told to come in and say I was having contractions. I asked if I could have Pitocin to start labor, and the nurse said, “Not unless the doctor says so,” and added that there was really no reason. She said that my baby wasn’t ready to enter the world yet, and there was no reason to hurry it. So I asked if I could walk for a while, and she said yes. My husband and I walked around the hospital for about an hour. I came back, and the nurse checked me again. She said that I was almost at 1 centimeter, but that I could be at a one for days. “You’re just not ready to give birth yet,” she said. I was devastated. I still didn’t want to say that the doctor told me to come in, so I just stood there looking like an idiot. I asked if my doctor was in. The nurse said that she was, but that she was on rounds seeing patients. I asked if my doctor could take a minute to see me, but the nurse said, “Honey, you are not in labor.” My husband and I took our bag and walked down the hallway to the elevator. I started crying because my hopes had been deflated. I turned to look down the hallway, and I saw my doctor! Thank God she saw me, too, and we walked toward each other. She asked what was going on, and I told her that I wasn’t even at a one, so the nurse was sending me home. My doctor said to go out and wait for an hour and then come back at exactly 2:00 p.m., when she would make sure she was at the nurses’ station. She said to tell them that the contractions were getting stronger, and then she would check me herself. So we went out to the car and came back at 2:00 p.m. The nurse seemed very irritated and looked like she wanted to kill me.

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She obviously didn’t believe a word I was saying. My doctor was there and said that she would check me. But the nurse told another nurse to check me in and walked away. I didn’t say anything, although I really wanted to cry. At this point, I thought maybe I should just go home. My doctor checked me and said I wasn’t even at a one, but when the mean nurse came back, my doctor told her that I was at a two and to start me on Pitocin. The nurse said, “Fine.” She didn’t say a word to me the entire time and, I think, was a little rough with me. I still just wanted to cry and go home. Within half an hour, I was knocked hard with contractions that were only a fraction of the size of my earlier contractions, according to the monitor. I was in so much pain that I kept moving from side to side, trying to ease the contractions. I leaned over the bed and over the chair. I got on all fours. I tried everything, but nothing brought relief. The pain felt like I was ripping in two. The nurse checked me and said I was finally at a one. She knew then that my doctor had lied when she said I was at a two. The nurse didn’t say anything, but you could see it all over her face. She was pissed, and probably a little happy that I was in so much pain and not making much progress! I kept feeling like I had to go to the bathroom. I tried to hold it because every time I had to go, the nurse had to unhook me from everything. She would then walk me to the bathroom and wait. I would pee maybe a few drops, and then it would stop. She would walk me back to bed and hook me back up. Five minutes later, I would have to do it all over again. She wasn’t happy with me at all. Then I started getting sick to my stomach and threw up four times. It was awful. Between the contractions and the dry heaving, my body was shaking and it was a nightmare. Around 8:00 p.m., a new nurse came in and checked me. I was still at a one! I was so disappointed and couldn’t believe that nothing was happening, especially with all the pain I was in. I asked if I

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could have something for the pain. The nurse said she would ask the doctor, but with the labor as slow as it was, the pain medication could have actually slowed it even more. She also said that if I started the epidural block while I was still so far off, the block could wear off during labor. I asked if I could have a C-section, and she said, “Not likely.” So for the next seven hours, I was in horrible pain. The nurses kept checking me every half hour or so. I finally crept to a two at 3:00 a.m. I tried sleeping, but it was difficult because of the contractions and all the checking by the nurses. Around 9:00 a.m., the nurse came and checked me again. She said I was still at a two. She said the doctor would be in around 11:00 a.m. and that she would check me. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. I wanted to go home so bad and kept thinking, “I could be at home doing this!” When the doctor checked me at 11:30 a.m., she said I was almost at a three and was “getting there.” I felt a little happier at that news. She asked if I wanted her to start me on Pitocin again to make everything go a little faster. I didn’t know what to do. The Pitocin hadn’t done much for me earlier, but I didn’t want to stay at a three all day. She said that when I got to a five, they would give me an epidural. I decided to do Pitocin again, and the contractions were so bad that I was screaming. I tried not to, but I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. And the mean nurse was back! She came in without saying a word and just checked me. She didn’t even tell me what the reading was. She just left the room. A half hour later, a different nurse came and checked me. By this time, I was in so much pain from them poking at me and from my contractions that I was starting to feel delirious. The nurse said I was almost dilated to 4 centimeters, which thrilled me. Only 1 more centimeter to go, and hello, epidural! Around 6:00 p.m. I was suddenly at 6 centimeters. I welcomed the epidural guy with open arms!

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Approximately two hours later, I was at a ten and ready to push. The time had finally come, and I was ready for this. I pushed for about twenty minutes and was getting really tired. I was so hot and uncomfortable, and I wasn’t getting anywhere. The baby’s heart rate began to slow, and I was given oxygen. The doctor said she could see my baby’s head, but it just wasn’t moving at all. This went on for two more hours. By this time, the epidural was losing its thrill. It was almost 10:00 p.m., and I was wiped out.

The doctor finally suggested that a Cesarean would be best, and I said thank you. Tons of activity started, and I was wheeled into the operating room. It was really bright, and I couldn’t see anything, which I still regret. I could only watch my husband, who was watching the doctors. I was so tired that I actually started to fall asleep, and then I heard the doctor say, “Look, Dad; it’s a girl!”—and I fell asleep. My husband told me that I opened my eyes and looked at her, but I honestly don’t remember that. When I woke up four hours later and saw my husband holding my daughter, we were in a different room. I just lay there and watched them, and it was so touching. I said, “Hey,” and my husband brought me our daughter. We hadn’t decided on a girl’s name for sure. It was always between Amber Elizabeth and Calie Elizabeth. My husband handed her to me and said, “I think she looks like a Calie,” and I agreed. The doctor came in later to see me and told me that her cord had been wrapped around her neck and that she had been butt down. It wasn’t her head that she had thought she’d seen, but a butt cheek! Calie is four months old and a wonderful baby. I can’t seem to put her down and even hold her when I do dishes or laundry. I just don’t want to let her go. I love watching her facial expressions and hearing any little noise that comes out of her!

My drug-free birth Sheldene Wade Cape Town, South Africa

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y whole pregnancy, from start to finish, was so different from when I was pregnant with Tristan, my son. I don’t know how much of it was due to the fact that I was carrying a girl (as the old wives’ tales would have you believe) or just due to my body being more accustomed to being pregnant. We’d had a few scares late in the pregnancy with our little girl being the wrong way up. We’d had to discuss having an external cephalic version, where the doctor would manually turn her head down, followed by immediate induction. I was quite scared, but my baby headed down the right way, and things were back on track from week thirty-six of my pregnancy. I had my thirty-ninth week checkup on a Thursday, and my ob/ gyn did an internal exam to see whether our daughter had decided to engage in my pelvis or not. Her head was engaged but not deeply. The next morning, when I went to the bathroom, I had a bloody show. I’d discussed this with my doctor the day before, and she had said that it was not a reliable indicator of imminent labor. I continued to have a show the whole weekend. At 1:30 a.m. Monday morning, I got up for a trip to the bathroom and, as I reached the bathroom’s threshold, I felt

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a familiar popping feeling and a little leak of my water. I practically threw myself onto the toilet in case it was the precursor to a mad gush of water, but it just stayed a trickle. Then I had a quiet moment of gratitude that my water hadn’t broken on our two-week-old bed! I put on a pad and quietly went to get everything ready for our twoyear-old son’s trip to day care in the morning. Then I reluctantly went to wake my husband Robin. We’d both gone to bed late, so I felt that it was Murphy’s Law that I’d go into labor when we were both so tired! We phoned my sister to come over and stay with Tristan, and my mother to join us on the trip to the hospital. I packed last-minute things into my hospital bag while we waited for Mom. When she arrived, we went to the hospital. On the way there, we told her that we knew that the baby was a girl. We’d kept our knowledge a secret from everyone, but I wanted to be able to refer to our baby as “her” while I was laboring. I was checked into the hospital and put onto the monitoring machine to check the baby and my contractions. She was fine. I was told that my contractions were mild, but then they checked my blood pressure and panicked, because it was quite high. I wasn’t too worried, since it had been quite high for the last few weeks. The midwife phoned my ob/gyn, who said that my blood pressure level was fine. I was allowed to walk around and stay active. So I was taken off the hated monitor, and I tried to cope with the contractions. I leaned on the bed and rolled my hips. I sat on the birthing ball and bounced or rolled around. I concentrated on my breathing and visualized my cervix opening. Eventually I was asked to get back on the bed so that I could be monitored again. I had tried lying on the bed at one stage, but it had made my contractions too painful, so I had avoided it thereafter. Lying on the bed was agony as they monitored the baby’s heartbeat and I continued to have contractions. I hated having to lie still, and the pain was so bad that I vomited. My blood pressure was taken again and found to be very high,

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but I calmly informed the midwife that I had been in the middle of a contraction at the time, so she retook it, and though it was high, the reading was acceptable. The midwife also did an internal exam and said that I was 3 centimeters dilated. When they removed my underwear, they noticed that the pad I was wearing was very yellow from my waters and said that was caused by meconium in the waters. The midwife was very worried about this and phoned my doctor to tell her. The doctor said it was fine and that I could lie in the bath if I wanted. I had not been lucky enough to get the ward with the tub in it, so I had to go to the patients’ bath across the passage. I will recommend water for pain relief during labor to anyone. It felt so nice to have the water swishing over my tummy. I completely lost track of time in the bath and mostly ignored Robin and my mom, who stayed with me the whole time. The midwife (a different one now as the morning shift had come on duty) came in and checked the baby’s heartbeat, which was fine. I was lost in coping with the contractions. They were painful, and I very seriously considered asking for an epidural block, even though I had said no drugs. But something that my doctor had said to me kept replaying in my mind. She had told me that since this was my second birth, by the time I felt I couldn’t cope, it would probably be too late for pain medication. I held on to this thought and tried to ignore the temptation of an epidural or a Cesarean section. The contractions were strong and painful, but between them I felt completely fine—tired but not in pain. Our baby was also becoming agitated. A few times she planted her little feet against my ribs and pushed her head down, triggering a new contraction. I felt quite upset by this and demanded a few times that she lie still. I looked forward to those gaps between contractions and didn’t want her to set off a new contraction early!

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I got into the rhythm of the contractions and was taken by surprise when I suddenly felt the urge to push. My eyes flew open, and I must have had a strange expression on my face, because my mom asked what was wrong. I told her that I needed to push, and she said that she would get the midwife. Next thing I knew, my doctor was popping her head in the door. She asked me to get out of the bath and come back to my room so she could check me. She made us all laugh because my mom had told her that I was in the bath, so she had gone to the ward with the tub and surprised the lady who was in there! Robin and my mom helped me get out of the bath and dry off. They draped the hospital gown over me, and we walked back to the ward. Of course, we paused frequently because the contractions were coming quite often. I got on the bed, and my doctor did an internal exam. She said that I was 8 to 9 centimeters dilated, but that an anterior lip of cervix was still in the way. She predicted that it would take another hour, at the most, for me to be completely effaced, and she left to go to her office. After that, the stained waters started gushing out with every contraction. I was beginning to get a bit freaked out and demanded to know from the midwife what was happening! She replied that that had been caused by the internal exam. I remembered something else my doctor had told me when we were discussing my birth plan. She had said that women find laboring on their knees and leaning forward during the contractions helpful, so between contractions, I hauled myself over and kneeled on the bed, leaning forward and holding onto the back. I definitely felt the urge to push. What can I tell you about

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that urge? I never felt it with my first birth, and I have never felt anything like it before. It is unavoidable! If I had been told not to push, I think I would have punched someone. I pushed with my contractions because I couldn’t help myself, and I felt between my legs to see if I could feel the head. I didn’t recognize what it was that I did feel, so I wadded a towel between my legs and told the midwife that I needed to push. She looked at me and told me that it was okay, I’d just made a little poo, and she would clean me up. I didn’t say anything, but I was miffed because I had just told her this really important fact and she was worried about a bit of poo! She came back after cleaning me up and asked me to get onto my back again—and I refused. I started pushing earnestly then, and the midwife asked me again to turn. I told her that I couldn’t, so she enlisted Robin and my mom’s help, and they manhandled me onto my back. I started to push and push, and I forgot about everyone else except Mom, Robin, and myself. I could feel that our daughter was near to arriving, and I honestly thought that Robin would have to deliver her. Suddenly my doctor was there. Twenty minutes after she had done the internal exam, it was time for my baby to be born. My doctor told me that this was my last chance to scream, and I laughed because I had been giving indignant little screeches with every contraction. So I pushed, and my mom told me that the baby had lots of hair. My doctor told me to give a big push, which I did, and out popped Shaelyn’s head. A quick breath and another push and a scream as I delivered her body, and that was it! I was (and still am) absolutely amazed that I gave birth without painkillers. I tore a little and needed three stitches, but I honestly did not feel that happening. My labor was six hours and forty minutes long. Shaelyn weighed 3.83 kilograms (8 pounds, 7 ounces) and measured 52.5 centimeters (20 inches) long. What an amazing and rewarding experience!

Come on, baby! Lindsay A. E. Cincinnati, Ohio

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y husband and I were at a local restaurant with some friends on a Friday night when I was thirty-six weeks pregnant. I looked every bit of thirty-six weeks pregnant because I was huge. I was truly tired of everyone asking me when I was going to “pop.” Totally annoyed, I answered that question only one more time before my baby was born, and the last person to ask? Our waitress. Little did she know at the time that I would go into full labor about fifteen minutes later, while eating the meal she was about to bring me. After being married only six months, we had tried for this baby for only one month, and to our surprise, I got pregnant! So we were still newlyweds and soon-to-be parents. I had woken up around 2:00 a.m. that same morning with minor back pain and couldn’t sleep. At about 9:00 a.m. I started having contractions that were twenty to thirty minutes apart. They were regular, but I figured they were just Braxton Hicks contractions and went on about my day. After all, I was only at thirty-six weeks.

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I had always heard that the “nesting” instinct comes right before you are about to have your baby. And mine kicked in that day. I called my mom, and she came over and helped me clean our entire place. She jokingly said that it would be great if I could have the baby this weekend, because then she wouldn’t have to take any time off work. I told her I’d do what I could. While my husband and I were out eating with friends that evening, my contractions suddenly went from thirty minutes apart to seven minutes apart. I was confused about whether they were real since they didn’t really hurt. They just felt like a tightening sensation. Our friends were sure I was in labor and started taking bets on the time I would have the baby. I still wasn’t convinced I was in labor. We finished our dinner and decided to go home, take a short walk, and see how things progressed. After a couple more hours, the contractions were a mere four-anda-half minutes apart. We followed my doctor’s advice that I should head to the hospital when the contractions were five minutes apart. We went to the Emergency Room since it was 11:30 p.m. and the hospital’s main entrance wasn’t open. From there, they whisked me away to Labor and Delivery. This still all seemed so surreal to me. They put me in obstetrics triage and strapped on all those lovely monitors. I was fully convinced that they would send me back home. I figured this was all false labor, even though I was definitely feeling contractions. The triage nurse checked me over and said I was 2 centimeters dilated and fully effaced, with contractions every four minutes. That meant I was staying. They started my IV drip and put me in a room that, over the next few days, I would become oh so familiar

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with. At this particular hospital you labor, deliver, and recover all in the same birthing suite. I labored until 8:00 a.m., while being checked regularly. I had only progressed to 3 centimeters, and my contractions had spread out to fifteen minutes apart at best. I thought, now they are sending me home to wait. Nope! The nurse told me to walk the halls for an hour, and we’d see if that would restart my labor. So I walked the halls with the IV pole in tow and my husband by my side. After we spent an hour walking three short halls over and over, the nurse came in with a Pitocin drip. She hooked it up to my IV line because my contractions had not regulated any more. “We’re having a baby today,” she said ever so cheerfully. “We?” I was thinking. “I believe I am having this baby!” The Pitocin was started, and my obstetrician broke my water to speed things along. Until then, the contractions didn’t hurt all that much. They just felt like my stomach hardening and releasing over and over. I mentioned to my doctor jokingly, “Hey, labor isn’t so bad.” He just grinned and broke my bag of waters. My next contraction was painful. He looked at me and said, “Now that all that water isn’t there to cushion them, they’ll hurt.” I labored another hour or so, and this time it hurt. With every contraction, I felt horrendous pain in my back, known as “back labor.” I didn’t feel any pain in my abdomen, only in my back. I tried lying in every position possible. They moved me and contorted me, saying it hurt so much because the baby’s head was turned the wrong way. It hurt more than any pain I had ever felt! Oddly enough, sticking a full roll of toilet paper in the small of my back helped tremendously. Then a strange man pushing a huge cart came wheeling into my room. He asked my name and said, “I’m here!” I was thinking, “But who are you?”

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He then started telling me about the procedure he would be doing. Epidural! I hadn’t even asked for it yet, and here he was. Just in the nick of time. “These people are good,” I was thinking to myself. He numbed my back, gave me the epidural, and told me to lie back down before I even knew anything had happened. It was painless, and within ten minutes, I was as numb as could be. By this time it was mid-afternoon, and all our family and friends had decided to stop by, thinking I had had the baby by this point. I sat there and enjoyed their company as a nurse and one of my friends monitored how my contractions were going off the charts without me even noticing them. I have to say, from this point on, I really did enjoy my labor. Evening came, and there was a big football game on TV. My husband was anxious and asked that I not have the baby during the game. I told him I’d do what I could and rolled my eyes. I was trying as much as possible to make this birth fit everyone else’s schedule! This was the same man who was irritated that the hospital didn’t have wireless Internet so he could bring his computer. I don’t think he realized that he was going to be sitting by my side all day, not playing around! At 11:00 p.m., the nurse came in and told me that, since I was only at 8 centimeters, I was being prepped for a Cesarean because it was just taking too long. Being new to this experience and never thinking twice about it, I just said okay. They came to get me at midnight and were about to roll my bed out of the room when, all of a sudden, I felt the urge to push. I told them to stop. My husband saw that I wasn’t kidding and got my nurse. I told the nurse, and she just kept reassuring me I didn’t need to push. I told her that I did need to push! So she checked me, and I was right. Go figure. So I was staying in my room. They told me to hold on because my doctor was delivering another baby down the hall. Ha! How do you just “hold on”?

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I pushed a couple times, and my doctor ran in, switching gowns and gloves as he approached my doorway. I yelled for him to hurry up. He ran over, assessed the situation, and within three pushes, I had my baby on my chest. It was a boy! He was beautiful. Mason Alexander entered our lives weighing 6 pounds, 9 ounces, and measuring only 18½ inches long. After more than twenty-nine hours of labor, I had my beautiful baby boy, and I can say that I actually fully enjoyed my labor. It was amazing to see how this little one entered the world. With my husband quietly by my side the whole time, we made our dream of being parents come true. I made it until after the football game— and had him on the weekend. You’re welcome, Hubby and Mom; glad I could fit this into your schedules.

Fintan’s birth story Jessica Aldridge Glasgow, Kentucky

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y due date arrived, and my midwife scheduled my induction. It was a Monday morning, May 8, and I was six days overdue. We arrived at the hospital at 6:00 a.m., ready for anything! We hoped for a natural birth and that labor would be easy…but labor never goes the way you think it will. We were disappointed to be having an induction, but I was ready to get it over with. I got to Labor and Delivery, where I was given a gown. I changed and hopped into the hospital bed. Nurses were setting up my IV drip, the contraction monitor, and the fetal heart monitor. One asked me a bunch of medical history questions and had me sign the epidural consent form. I wasn’t taking any chances; I might need it later on. By 7:00 a.m., the contractions had started and were fairly regular. They weren’t as bad as I thought, just waves of discomfort around my middle and back. The nurses came in every thirty minutes to up the dosage of Pitocin. At 8:00 a.m., my midwife arrived. She checked my cervix and found I was 1½ centimeters dilated, so she broke my water. A huge gush came out. I didn’t expect so much fluid, and it was really warm, not the most pleasant sensation. The midwife then put the

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monitors inside. The baby was moving around so much that they could not track his heart rate well with the external monitor. By 8:30 a.m., I was in full labor. I was really past the point of being able to think clearly. The huge waves of pain made me feel almost like I was being squeezed to death. I was trying to remember how to breathe properly, but I just couldn’t remember how. I remember telling my husband and the nurses, “My mom was full of sh*t; labor is not a piece of cake.” The contractions felt nothing like bad period cramps! They didn’t feel like cramps at all. They felt like a boa constrictor was wrapped around my abdomen and squeezing every two to three minutes. At 10:00 a.m., the nurse checked and said I was only dilated to 2 centimeters. I was in agony, so they gave me a shot of Demerol. So now I was in full labor feeling like I had just drunk a keg of beer. I was completely drugged and still feeling every bit of each contraction. I knew I would have to wait until noon to get the epidural block. The next two hours were a blur. The nurse had me lie on my right side because the baby seemed to have a more consistent heart rate in that position. I couldn’t see my husband because he was sitting in the chair to my left side. Later on, he told me that he didn’t know what to do, so he just kept quiet. That was great for me because I just went into my own world. By 11:30 a.m., I was crying because I was so miserable. Luckily your body releases a ton of oxytocin when you deliver the baby. This huge rush of oxytocin helps you forget the pain of labor so you can bond with the baby right away. So I can’t say my contractions felt this way or that way exactly. I just remember waves of pain that never let up. In the back of my mind, I kept telling myself I could do it without the epidural, but then sanity kicked in, and I realized I couldn’t make it alone. At 12:30 p.m., I gave in and asked for the epidural. The anesthesiologist arrived fifteen minutes later. I remember the nurses

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jokingly calling him “Dr. Santa.” This is the only time during labor that I got snappy with anyone. I was sobbing and felt like I was ripping in two, and Dr. Santa wanted to ask me twenty questions. I was in no mood to answer anything. My contractions were coming every two minutes and lasting for a minute, so I really couldn’t talk. My husband stepped up and answered a lot of the questions for me. After what seemed like forever (or five minutes in labor time), Dr. Santa started the epidural. I was expecting a lot of pain and maybe to have a hard time holding still. But it barely hurt and took fifteen minutes from start to finish. Then a miracle occurred, and I went numb at 1:30 p.m. My labor drastically changed at this point. I had relief! I opened my eyes, dried my tears, and thanked God for epidurals. My husband was also relieved and asked if I minded if he ran downstairs to get some lunch. So my husband and the nurses all left the room. I was finally able to talk again, and everyone was gone! Just before 2:00 p.m., the nurses came back to see how I was doing and to check the baby’s heart rate. As one nurse was watching the monitor, I suddenly felt like I needed to push. The sensation was different than I thought it would be, and I wasn’t quite sure it was time because I had only been at 4 centimeters a half hour before. I had expected to feel like I needed to bear down as if I had to use the bathroom. However, I literally felt like something was separating my pubic bone (which the baby was, so that makes sense). We laughed about me being numb, and the nurse checked me just in case. Sure enough, I was ready to push, and my husband was still downstairs. I was frantic, saying, “I can’t have the baby until my husband gets back!” The nurse asked me to do one practice push to see how I did. Apparently I pushed very well, and the second nurse went to page the midwife. Next thing I knew, medical people started coming in and setting

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up trays and equipment all over the room. This surprised me because I wasn’t expecting such a flurry of activity. My husband walked in the room right at 2:00 p.m. and asked me, “What’s going on?” I said, “It’s time to push!” He seemed to get nervous at this point, but he stayed calm. Luckily my midwife’s office is next door to the hospital. The nurse grabbed one leg and showed my husband how to hold the other leg. And then it was time! We all watched the monitor for the next contraction, and everyone started telling me, “Push, push, push!” After six contractions of pushing and a second-degree episiotomy, Fintan Michael was born at 2:21 p.m. Pushing the baby out was the easiest part of labor. The epidural numbed only the pain, so I could still feel if someone was touching my leg. I could feel the baby crowning and the cut, but without any discomfort. I can’t believe that eight people saw me naked from the waist down. I wasn’t in such pain that I just didn’t care, but I felt more like I would at a regular exam. They had to look, and there was nothing I could do about it. So I just pushed that to the back of my mind and focused on delivery. I kept telling myself, “They see this on a daily basis, and I’m nothing special.” Afterwards, I got stitched up while the baby was cleaned up. I remember feeling so relieved that it was over. The moment I had been anxiously waiting for and dreading at the same time was finally over!

My most vivid memory of giving birth is watching the nurse carry the baby over to the warming table and watching my husband follow behind with the digital camera and tears streaming down his face.

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I was in high spirits and a little teary-eyed, too. Giving birth was easy once I got the epidural. Until then, I was fighting the contractions. The epidural relaxed me and let my contractions really do their job. When they finally brought the baby for me to hold, I was in awe. I couldn’t really believe I had created a human being. I know it’s a biological process, but it’s also a miracle.

Seven days late with 7 pound, 7 ounce girl Lisa Patterson Denton, Texas

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y daughter was due on March 31, which came and went. Since this was my first, everyone kept telling me, “First babies are always late.” When they knew I was having a girl, I heard, “Girls are always late.” After hearing this for the 200th time, I started lying to strangers and would say I was only thirty-eight weeks along. Seven days after my due date, my husband John and I went to Target to return some baby gifts we had received from my baby showers. While we were walking around, I noticed I was getting some cramps. They felt like hardening or stretching. I knew immediately what they were, but I didn’t know how serious yet. I told John that I was starting to get contractions, so we hurried up and headed home. When we got there, I wanted to take a nice, warm bath to relax and get myself into “labor mode.” I didn’t know how long I would be home, and I didn’t want to get to the hospital too soon and then have them send me home.

I had been in the bath for probably ten minutes when my first “real” contraction hit me. It was strong and lasted around forty seconds.

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I sat there a little longer, and about four minutes later, I experienced the same thing again. I called for John, and he helped me get out of the tub. As I was getting out, I lost my mucous plug. John called the hospital to tell them what was happening, while I got dressed. As he was talking, I started moaning really loudly. The contractions were getting closer, about two minutes apart, and lasting close to a minute. We arrived at the hospital around 2:00 p.m. On the way there, we called our parents to tell them what was happening. I was in so much pain that I was moaning like a cow giving birth. The nurse put me in a room and attached monitors to my stomach. By now my contractions were on top of each other. The nurse checked to see how much I was dilated. I was at 9 centimeters! Everyone started to move very quickly. The nurse broke my water while another nurse ran out to get the doctor, who had just been outside in the hall. When he came running in, I was already pushing. I swear, I only pushed four times, and my daughter was born. They placed her on my belly, and it was wonderful. Caitlyn Olivia Patterson was seven days late and weighed 7 pounds, 7 ounces. It was the next day before I realized that she was born on April 7! When everyone showed up, I was sitting in my room with Caitlyn like nothing had happened. My mom couldn’t believe she had missed everything. I loved every second of it, and being so overdue was worth it when the labor and delivery were so fast!

Speedy first labor and delivery Robyn Cassidy Greece, New York

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hen I was thirty-seven weeks along, I went in for my appointment only to learn I had dilated to 2 centimeters. I thought this was great since I was already 20 percent there! At my next checkup a week later, I had dilated to a four. That was amazing because I thought I should have been feeling something, but I wasn’t. My doctor thought I should be induced but left the decision to me. I was so excited and agreed to come in the following day when my doctor would be on call. My husband Michael and I got to the hospital at 7:00 a.m. the following morning, and I was admitted. When the nurse checked me, I was dilated to a five and feeling great. I remember how shocked she was that I was talking and laughing. She said that some women are screaming at a three, so I felt good about how I was doing. While she checked me, she broke my water, saying that would increase labor. After that, I started to feel pains. My doctor came to see me at 8:00 a.m. By then, my contractions were about six minutes apart. She said I could have a Pitocin drip to make the contractions go faster if I wanted. I told her, “Why not?” I didn’t know what to expect, but she said that some women

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practically hang from the ceiling from the pain because sometimes it starts really quickly. She said I could also have an epidural block to help with the pain. I decided on both. I would probably have the baby within the next three to four hours, she told me. The nurse started the Pitocin drip, and the anesthesiologist came about thirty minutes later and gave me the epidural. I really didn’t feel the Pitocin kick in, but I didn’t feel any pain with the epidural. After the anesthesiologist left and my nurse was helping me to lie back down in the bed, she looked at my monitor and said my contractions were less than one minute apart. She checked me and said I was fully dilated. After that, she went out to the hallway, asked a nurse to call my doctor, and then told another nurse to come to help. My doctor came within three minutes and said she was amazed at how quickly this all happened for a first baby. I pushed for the next five minutes. Tiffany Renee was born at 8:35 a.m., which was only a little over an hour for the entire labor and delivery. Tiffany weighed 6 pounds, 2 ounces. My doctor had to give me an episiotomy, so I needed two little stitches.

Eyes wide open Erika Starman Belleville, Illinois

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was scheduled for an induction at thirty-eight-and-a-half weeks. I was dilated to 4 centimeters, and my obstetrician decided that my baby was big enough and full term. I went in around 10:00 a.m. to Methodist Medical Center in Peoria, Illinois. They hooked me up to the Pitocin drip, and we waited a bit. The contractions came, but they were bearable. Around noon, my obstetrician came and broke my water. After that, the contractions were fast and painful. I had wanted to see how long I could stand the pain before getting any medication. But once those real contractions started, I could hardly stand it. They were like the most awful menstrual cramps and stomach food poisoning at the same time. At that point I decided not to be a “martyr” and got a shot of IV narcotics. That took off the edge, and I was actually able to take a nap. About an hour or so later, I woke up to another horrible contraction. I asked the nurse for the epidural block, which my doctor had okayed beforehand, if needed, and they got it right away. I was scared of the epidural because I’d heard that, if they didn’t do it right, it could paralyze you. Luckily, my nurse anesthetist was an old pro who had trained in the military. They made my husband

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leave the room, which made me a little uncomfortable, but that was hospital policy. After the epidural, I could still feel the pressure but none of the sharp pain of the contractions. After about two or three more hours, I was fully dilated and they set up for the delivery. It was surreal. I felt like I wasn’t really there…maybe that was the drugs. I was told to start pushing. Getting the technique down was tricky. I knew there was a possibility of having a bowel movement during this time. My husband told me he would laugh at me if I did, so that was an obstacle to overcome mentally. That mental block made it hard for me to push effectively. Getting her head through my pelvis took a long time. While the baby was crowning, my obstetrician determined that, since I wasn’t having an episiotomy, he had to get the baby’s face and head out. He put his hand between his thumb and index finger on my perineum and pushed it towards my tailbone. That was what you would feel while pushing a watermelon through a tin can. It was painful, but quick. After that, her head was out and her eyes were open! But then her shoulders got stuck. My doctor was an expert at shoulder dystocia extractions and had learned a neat trick from his mentor. He literally got down on his knee and yanked her shoulder out of the birth canal.

My husband was in awe. After two hours of pushing, our beautiful, not-so-little girl, Giovanna Noelle Starman, was born at 8:49 p.m. She had a big knot in her cord, which was amazing because she didn’t have any of the birthing problems associated with true cord knots. Little Miss Gia weighed in at a healthy 8 pounds, 3½ ounces, and was 19½ inches long. She had jaundice (which later had to be treated in the hospital with bilirubin lights) and a few bruises

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on her head and arm from the delivery, but other than that was a perfect baby girl. I got two tiny stitches from the birth but didn’t have an episiotomy or tearing. Three days later, we all went home. The few first days were rough while Mommy, Daddy, and Baby got adjusted to “life on the outside.”

Seven-hour labor, one week late, and all natural Darlene Fulton Huntsville, Alabama

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was so happy when I found out I was pregnant with my son. My husband Dan and I had been married for four years, and we were so ready for this part of our life. I was due January 19. My pregnancy was perfect, and I didn’t have one complaint. At my November 17 appointment, my midwife told me there was no way I would make it until my due date. She said she had a feeling that I would probably be early by as much as three weeks. I was a little surprised at this revelation, but she said she knew from experience and the way I was carrying. So I had in my head that I would be early. I ended up going into labor at thirty-five weeks. My midwife didn’t want to take any chances that the baby might not be ready, so she stopped my labor using Brethine. I think this made me carry past my original due date by one week. By week forty-one, I was so miserable that I could barely walk. I couldn’t believe I was a week late, and I figured that I would have another week to go. But exactly one week past my due date, I started having contractions. They started at eight minutes apart, and by the time I got to the hospital, they were four minutes apart.

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My midwife met us at the hospital and said I was dilated to 6 centimeters. She broke my water, and my husband massaged my back. I was in horrible pain, but I refused any medication. I wanted to do this all naturally, if possible. Four hours later, I was at 10 centimeters and ready to push. I pushed for two hours, and Sarah Jo was born, weighing 7 pounds, 8 ounces, and measuring 19 inches long. So I was one week late, but my labor and delivery took fewer than seven hours, start to finish! I can’t complain at all. I did tear a little, but that was okay with me. Sarah was healthy and just perfect.

Overdue water birth at home Kerri Connell Arlington Heights, Illinois

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y due date was August 23, and I was six days overdue. I knew I wanted to have a home birth—and preferably a water birth. My former boss had done this and said it was the best experience of her life, so I had it in my head from the beginning that this was what I wanted. My husband John was not a believer during the first few months. He thought giving birth would be disgusting to do at home. Plus he liked knowing that a medical team would be with us at a hospital. But after I gave him reading material with safety statistics on home births and horror stories about hospital births, he agreed. I was six days overdue and uncomfortable in the heat. I basically sat inside and didn’t even go outside to get the mail or the newspaper. Around 4:00 a.m. on August 29, I started feeling contractions. At first, I just lay there and was really quiet and still. About six minutes later, I felt another one. I got so excited that I shook John awake and told him that I was having contractions. I should have let him sleep longer, and I should have tried to get some sleep myself. But the excitement took over, and I wanted to share it.

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John called our midwife Mary, who said she would be on her way. I had called my mom and John’s mom, so they were on the way also. John and I kept walking around the house, laughing and giddy like two little kids. My contractions were very mild at this point, so I told John to run out and get breakfast for everyone. He didn’t want to leave me, but I told him that everyone would be there within fifteen minutes and I would be fine. So he left. Mary got to our house first with all her “equipment.” She was so excited that it was funny. Our moms came minutes later and already had baby gifts with them! John came back with doughnuts and coffee. The pain was getting stronger, so Mary suggested I get on my hands and knees and rock during the contractions while John’s mom rubbed my lower back. I was also starting to moan, but the pain was not intolerable. This was around 8:00 a.m. Mary had me trying every position imaginable to get comfortable, but nothing worked. I kept telling everyone that it really hurt, and they kept saying, “Of course it does.” I decided to get in our bathtub and felt instant relief. I felt much more relaxed and calm. Mary told John that he could get in too, if he wanted, and he tried. But we had never realized how small our bathtub would be with a huge pregnant woman and a 220-pound man in it, plus three women on the side. John couldn’t find a place to sit, so he got back out and stayed by my head. He kept rubbing my lower back, which felt great. I had to pee, and when I stood up, I heard a loud popping sound. A huge gush of warm water came pouring out of me. Since that was already in the bathwater, I went ahead and peed while standing there. Mary drained the tub while I stood and let the water trickle out of me. She refilled the tub with new warm water. I sat back down, thinking how nice this was. Then, because my water had broken, the contractions hit really hard.

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Transition started, and I threw up in the garbage can and began to shake all over. Everyone was wonderful, but I asked them all to leave the room for five minutes so I could get myself together. They said they would wait in the other room and to yell if I needed them. I just wanted to relax, deal with my body, and get in a better state of mind. Of course, I could hear them talking and yelled, “Can you guys be quiet, please?” Then I felt bad for being mean. Around 3:00 p.m., I didn’t think the pain could get any worse. Mary checked me and said I was at a nine and to try not to push. The urge was so unbelievably strong that I can’t explain it. I remember seeing births on television where the doctor would tell the woman, “Don’t push,” and the woman would yell, “I have to!” I would think, “Don’t push, lady. It can’t be that hard.” Yeah, right. It’s like trying not to breathe; you just can’t help it. About 3:20 p.m., I began pushing. Since John couldn’t sit behind me, he put a leg in the tub and sat on the edge so I could lean back on his thigh. Pushing was extremely hard, but I knew I could do it. Mary was doing perineal massage and supporting my perineum with compresses. I was scared that I would tear, so I was controlling my pushing. I kept doing little tiny pushes instead of one big push. Alyssa’s head came out at 4:19 p.m. We all held our breath because it was truly amazing. When Mary took her out of me and put her on my chest, I just nuzzled her for a minute or two. I started breastfeeding immediately. As soon as the cord stopped pulsating, John cut it. After sitting there for ten minutes, I gave Alyssa to Daddy so everyone could take turns holding her in the living room. I needed to get my placenta out. Mary suggested that I do it standing, if I could stand. So I pushed it out, and then Mary cleaned out the tub while I put on a robe.

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I came out to the living room, and it was like a party. Everyone was on cell phones, telling friends and family that Alyssa was here. It was wonderful. I sat on the couch and took my turn holding her with John sitting next to us. I was hungry, so we ordered pizza.

Long labor but easy delivery Bonnie Wenzel Great Falls, Montana

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y husband and I decided to start having children on our fifth wedding anniversary. We were vacationing in Aruba and thought it was time to start our little family. I was very lucky because when we got home two weeks later, I took a pregnancy test, and it was positive. The nine months went by fast and were glorious. I enjoyed every single second of the pregnancy, but I have to admit that I enjoyed the shopping the best! We found out we were having a girl, so I went nuts with the pink clothes and the bows and dolls. We named her Colby Ann Wenzel, and her due date was approaching on March 13. The due date came and went.

I was two days overdue, and the doctor scheduled me for an induction since I wasn’t dilated at all. I went to the hospital and was hooked up to IV lines and monitors. The nurses started the Pitocin and kept increasing the strength.

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After about ten hours, I was not progressing at all (still zero), so the doctor decided to send me home. He said he would give it another week before he decided what he was going to do if I still hadn’t had the baby. At my next appointment, I was about nine days overdue. My doctor examined me and said that he was going to schedule a Cesarean section for March 25. That night at 7:00 p.m., I started having backaches. By 9:00 p.m. they were really strong and intense, so I knew I was probably in labor. Then the contractions started at around 9:05 p.m. My husband called the hospital. He told them that I was nine days overdue, that I had been having back labor for two hours, and that the contractions were about ten minutes apart. “Ten minutes apart? Wait until they are five minutes apart,” was what he was told. So we stayed up all night with me in pain. My contractions were consistently nine to ten minutes apart, and the pain was horrible. My back was killing me, and my contractions were horrific. Around 4:00 a.m., the contractions were about six minutes apart, so we left for the hospital. The nurse examined me only to tell me to go home because I was at zero. She said to come back when the contractions were three to four minutes apart. We went home, but I was in so much pain that I was crying and moaning. My husband called the doctor’s office and explained that I was at 0 centimeters with contractions five minutes apart, but that we were told not to come back until they were three to four minutes apart. He told the nurse I was crying and practically hysterical. She said she would call the hospital and that we should go back and be checked in. I was so relieved to hear this. We showed up at the hospital at 9:00 a.m. and were shocked that I was only 2 centimeters dilated. The doctor decided to try more Pitocin, and I spent the rest of the morning and afternoon in pain. At 2:00 p.m., I was told I had

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finally reached 6 centimeters and was given an epidural block. The rest went quickly, and I was fully dilated by 6:00 p.m. I started pushing, and my baby girl was born at 6:05 p.m. on March 23. I only pushed for five minutes. I had more than twentytwo hours of labor, and she was born in five minutes! She weighed 6 pounds, 2 ounces, and was 18½ inches long and perfect.

An unexpected delivery at home Kris Krynicki Nashua, New Hampshire

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ever in my wildest dreams did I think my daughter would be born the way she was. I always thought a hospital would be involved, as well as a doctor, pain medication, medical equipment, nursing staff—and did I mention pain medication? I woke up with really intense contractions at around 2:00 a.m. on October 4, two days past my due date. I didn’t want to wake my husband Joey yet because I assumed the contractions would continue for quite a while and I wanted him to sleep. I walked to my office and thought I would check my email, when suddenly the next contraction was nearly unbearable. I slowly made my way to the living room and lay down. The contraction lasted for at least two minutes, and I was surprised it hurt so much so quickly. Ten minutes later, another contraction. Again, it lasted about two minutes and was really painful. After that third contraction, I waited for the next one, but ten minutes came and went. Finally twenty minutes later, I felt fine, so I thought I would go back to sleep. I woke up around 6:00 a.m. when I felt another hard contraction. I looked over to say something to Joey, but he wasn’t there. So I

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just lay there and figured I would start timing them again. The next contraction was only six minutes later and was excruciating. I got up to go find Joey, and I felt a pop and a warm gush come out of me. I waddled to the bathroom and took my sweatpants off. I sat on the toilet and had another contraction. I waited until it was finished and then went to find a clean pair of sweats. About six minutes later, I felt another contraction. I didn’t realize I was part moaning, part yelling, but in ran Joey, who had been downstairs looking for clean boxers in the dryer. I yelled at him that I was in labor. He tried to help me up so we could go to the hospital, but I told him that I had to wait until the contractions were five minutes apart. This had happened earlier, but they had stopped, I told him. I wanted to make sure before we got all the way to the hospital. My husband got dressed while asking me where my bag was and where the video camera bag was. I was like, “Look for them, Joey! I’m sort of busy right now!” (Isn’t it typical that even when we’re in labor, our husbands need help finding things?) So he went searching through the house and started loading our SUV. By then my contractions felt like they were on top of each other. I couldn’t even talk; I was screaming. Joey came running back in and tried to pick me up. He actually thought he was going to carry me downstairs to the truck while I was in labor! I yelled that I couldn’t get up and that he should stop touching me. I told him that I thought the baby was coming and to call 911. He grabbed the phone on my nightstand and called. I was screaming and telling him to help take my sweatpants off. He did, and when he looked down, he said, “I see the baby’s head.” I think he repeated that about twenty times. I yelled at him to hang up the phone, but the 911 operator said to stay on the line. This was impossible because Joey needed his hands free and the phone was so small that he couldn’t balance it between his shoulder and ear. So he told them our address really quickly and hung up.

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I put my hand down between my legs and felt my baby’s head. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I felt the urge to push. My husband got between my legs, and I started pushing. Thank God for the class we took. I pushed for ten minutes and didn’t even hear the doorbell ringing. Later we found out that the police had arrived first and were ringing the bell. I kept pushing, and then the phone rang! When my husband picked it up, it was the dispatcher saying that the police were downstairs ringing the doorbell and that the paramedics were less than two minutes away. My husband told her that the baby was coming and he couldn’t leave, but he would open the door when he could. As soon as he hung up, the baby’s head was born! At that point, my husband totally panicked because he knew what was next and he didn’t know what to do. He flew downstairs and opened the door. Within ten seconds, he ran back in with two police officers, and ten seconds behind them, the paramedics. In the ten seconds that he took to unlock the door, the baby came out all the way to its butt with my hands under the head and back.

I was delivering my own baby! The paramedics dropped everything, ran over to me, and took over. My husband looked relieved and just stood there by the police. The paramedics instructed me to push again, but softly, and out came our baby girl. Having four strangers in my room was weird, but I also felt very safe and cared for at the same time. The paramedic put our daughter on my belly and said that I should go to the hospital, which I really wanted to do. The paramedics helped me onto the stretcher

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and took my daughter Macie Ann and me to the hospital with a police escort. Macie was perfect and weighed 5 pounds, 13 ounces. I was checked, and everything was great. I had torn just a tiny bit, so they took care of that. We stayed at the hospital for seven hours, and we went home. How unbelievable is that? The doctor and nurses were amazed that I had just given birth at home and that I did so well. It was an experience to remember!

I loved my fast and easy delivery with Pitocin Allison McGreger Beavercreek, Ohio

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was due on December 24. I dreaded the thought of a possible Christmas baby because I wanted the baby to have his or her own day. And if I was overdue, Tommy’s parents, who were visiting for Christmas, would have to leave without seeing the baby. So I devised a plan. I would ask my doctor to induce me early so I would be home with the baby for the holidays and my husband’s parents would get to be there with her. My doctor said she had no problem inducing me early. She said my pregnancy had been great and the baby was doing beautifully, so there was no reason why she couldn’t do it. She scheduled me to be induced on the morning of December 10, when I was at thirty-eight weeks. We let Tommy’s parents know that I was being induced then, and they were thrilled. They were coming on December 20 and were so happy that they would get to see the baby while they were here. My mom and I went to my doctor’s office on December 9, and the doctor ruptured my membranes. This hurt a little; it was a little worse than an internal exam. But I think the word “ruptured” says it all. I spotted a little after that.

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Tommy and I went to the hospital the next day and filled out the paperwork. I was moved into a room and put on a gown. My parents showed up shortly after. My doctor put prostaglandin gel on my cervix. I started feeling contractions about an hour later, and when they checked me, I was dilated to 3 centimeters. When my doctor came to see me two hours later, she said I had dilated to five, and she broke my water.

I couldn’t believe how easy this was! I was at a five, and no epidural block? This was not what I had expected. I stayed at a five for another two hours, so they started me on Pitocin, and my contractions got hard immediately. About twenty minutes after the Pitocin drip started, around 11:30 a.m., the anesthesiologist gave me an epidural block. At that point, I was still dilated to five. At noon my doctor came to check me. The nurse said, “Oh, I just checked her a little while ago, and she was a five.” Thank God, my doctor didn’t say, “Oh, okay,” and leave. She went ahead and checked me, and lo and behold, I was at a full ten. My dad was out of there immediately! You have never seen a fifty-eight-year-old man dart out of a room so fast in your life. As the door shut, I heard him say, “I love you, honey.” My mom got on one side, and Tommy on the other. Tommy did a great job counting from one to ten while I pushed. My mom just kept saying how proud she was of me. After I pushed for twenty minutes, our daughter Kennedy Renee was born. She weighed 6 pounds even and was 18 inches long. I had to have an episiotomy, but it was very small. I loved holding her and just kept staring at her. My husband held her next. My mom left to get my dad, and they came in after I was

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sewn up. My mom held Kennedy, and then my dad did. It was so wonderful. Tommy’s parents came for Christmas, and they, too, fell in love with her. The presents were way over the top that year! Kennedy is doing great and is just starting to crawl.

Night of the full moon Aimee Wimbush-Bourque Montreal, Quebec, Canada

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t was a night of a full moon. I had worked all day and thrown a dinner party for four friends that evening—spicy Thai food— and there were loads of leftovers. My husband Danny and I joked that if I went into labor that night, there would be lots of food already prepared to eat the next week. My due date was five days away, but I thought I might go into labor early, even though everyone says first-time mothers are usually overdue. I also had a few signs along the way: the baby was low and in perfect position, my cervix was thinned out, and the moon hung full in the sky. Not just an old wives’ tale, it is widely believed in medical circles that our “internal tides” are governed by the moon’s pull. I joked about it with my brother-in-law Michel, but really, I had been watching the coming waxing of the moon with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Late that night, as Danny and I lay in bed, we debated over a girl’s name. We didn’t know the sex of our baby; we had a boy’s name selected but couldn’t agree on a girl’s. That was bothering me, and I said, “Listen, if I go into labor tonight and we have a baby girl, what are we going to call her?” My ever-practical husband said, “Well, if

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you’re having the baby tonight, then I am going to sleep right now.” He rolled over and was snoring in seconds. I had only been asleep for about an hour when I was awakened by a sharp cramp in my lower abdomen. It was decidedly different than anything I had ever felt. I thought I must have to use the bathroom, so I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Immediately I peed my pants—or so I thought. But as I continued trickling while I walked down our narrow stairs and into the bathroom, I realized this was probably my water breaking. It was 11:43 p.m. on Friday, September 16. I was feeling uncomfortable cramps, which I assumed were contractions, and began timing them. They were about seven minutes apart. I put a towel between my legs, relaxed on the sofa, and waited an hour to wake my husband. I figured I might as well let him get a few more minutes of sleep, since the rest of this night was mine. He was groggy when I shook him several times. “Honey, we’re having the baby today,” I said softly. He grunted, “Uh huh,” and kept sleeping. I repeated my statement, and then it sunk in. “Really?” He sat bolt upright and in a few minutes was wide awake and squealing with excitement. Even when he was in the shower, I could hear him clapping his hands together. I had started shaking all over from adrenaline and excitement. The contractions, which felt like bad period cramps, were now about five minutes apart. No prelabor for me! Forget playing games, going for a walk, or even showering…we called the case room at the hospital and a few family members, grabbed our bags and the infant car seat, and were on our way. The hospital was about thirty minutes away, and we stopped to pick up my younger sister. She looked nervous as she walked through the rain to the car, as if she was expecting me to be in bad shape.

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“Hi, Miranda.” I kept it cheery. “Well, this is it, eh?” Now my contractions were about four minutes apart. “Is this really happening?” I thought. I concentrated on the rhythmic movements of the windshield wipers sweeping the rain away and prayed we would get there soon. I looked over at the speedometer once and saw that my husband was doing 70 kph in a 90 zone. “Step on it!” I yelped. He thought he was helping by driving carefully! It was raining and cold when we arrived at the hospital around 2:45 a.m. Things were starting to get more and more painful, and I was smiling less and less. I checked in, hanging onto the counter for support, did the paperwork, and headed for bed. On the way there, I threw up in a garbage bin. I heard a nurse comment, “She’s in labor all right.” I handed my birth plan to the nurses and just had to hope that it would be respected throughout the labor. I had requested no drugs of any kind, no continuous fetal monitoring, no enema, no forceps, no episiotomy, kangaroo baby care, and several other things. There was no way I wanted any intervention to speed up or slow down labor. I was determined to give my baby a drug-free entry into the world and the best possible start on life. I would like to note, though, that if ever my baby’s health had been in danger along the way, I was willing to discuss and proceed with whatever the doctor advised, as long as it was necessary and not purely for the convenience of the hospital staff. The doctor arrived to examine me, but I was only a disappointing 2 centimeters dilated. This was going to be a long haul! By now the contractions were very painful, and the acute realization of what was about to transpire was setting in. Once Danny had located everything we would need, such as hot towels, a birthing ball, and the Jacuzzi, he planted himself in front of me at eye level, took my hands in his, and never left my side for the next ten hours. He was my only coach, and what an amazing one he turned out

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to be. One never knows, do they, if their significant other will be that much-needed rock, or if he will turn into a pile of jelly at the first moan. I never could have made it through if it weren’t for him. He constantly calmed me, reminded me to breathe, moaned with me, and told me he loved me countless times. By now it was maybe five hours after my water had broken, and labor was in full force. My contractions were about three minutes apart, and here I say “maybe” and “about” because time was starting to do funny things to me, and I had no real awareness of it.

It was as if every system in my body was hibernating except for what was needed to get my baby out. I felt no alarming symptoms; yes, I was in intense pain, but it felt right. I trusted my body and tried my best to follow its lead. I found it easier to block out everything and to focus deep inside myself, on where all this commotion was coming from. I moved like a ninety-year-old woman. I hardly spoke, but I found it very satisfying to moan deeply as if letting go of the pain. I used the Jacuzzi for an hour or so at this point. The warm water felt wonderful, but the jets drove me nuts, so I kept them off. I had to have an IV line throughout the labor because I was positive for Group B streptococcus, and while it was annoying to keep my arm out of the water, I liked having the pole to lean on when I walked around. I clung to it as if it were my best friend. I went back to bed and was examined again. I was only at 3 centimeters after two hours! The pain was really bad, and I didn’t see how I would ever make it all the way. I started doing the math: 1 centimeter every two hours. Despair started to set in and I think I said, “I can’t do this,” twice, but Danny kept encouraging me, locking his eyes with mine and telling me how strong I was.

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Even though he was brushing away tears because it was so hard to see me in pain, he was strong for me. We were bonding, even now at the hardest time in my life. I was overwhelmed with love for him, and I used that to get through the pain. I have never felt so much love for my husband as I did during that time. After another hour and another half-centimeter dilated, he suggested we go into the shower, so he donned his swimsuit and we went in together. My sense of modesty had gone out the window long before; however, the nurses had informed us that the daddy was required to wear shorts in the shower. “We’re working on the dads being naked, too,” said the staff of our highly progressive hospital, “but we’re just not there yet!” Even though the contractions were two minutes apart and incredibly intense, I was able to relax a bit in the boiling hot shower. Toward the end of an hour, I was producing a lot of bloody discharge that was very disconcerting to see. However, the nurses told us that this was a good sign and that it meant I was opening up. We found out later that was indeed the case! My husband tells me it was around this time that I finally vocalized my pain and came closest to swearing. “Dang it!” I said. “This hurts.” After an hour and a half in the shower, I was feeling a strong urge to push. It was a very uncomfortable feeling, almost as if the biggest, hardest, meanest poo was knocking to get out and I couldn’t let it. I got back into bed, everyone was called, and I was found to be at 7 centimeters! Progress, indeed—enough to bring me to the hardest part yet: transition. The two hours that followed are hard to recall, as the contractions came every thirty seconds and I opened 2 more centimeters. As I had requested, the nurses never offered me pain relief in the form of drugs, but they gently made several welcome suggestions for alternate pain relief and constantly kept me supplied with hot towels, as the birthing room was quite chilly.

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At this point, I withdrew further into myself and drew on that deep inner strength that God bestows on all of us women, yet which we seldom use on a day-to-day basis. My lower back ached, but more difficult to withstand was the pressure in my bum to push. Still I was not allowed, as it was too early yet. Apparently, if you push before it’s time, you can cause the cervix to get irritated and swell, and you can have complications. By now a nurse stayed by my side and gently worked with me to get through each contraction. This nurse was the most beautiful woman in the world to me, and I wanted to adopt her; such was the emotion that I was feeling for anyone who could help me get through this! I just sat on the edge of the bed, leaned on Danny, and hoped this would be over soon. I believe I slept in between contractions; that’s what they tell me. Around 10:40 in the morning, eleven hours after my water broke, I was fully dilated. The doctor was called, and I was allowed to push! I was giddy with excitement and ready to work with my body instead of holding it back.

About two minutes into the pushing, I announced, “I like pushing!” and they all laughed. It was work, but it was wonderful to finally be doing something. Everyone was so supportive and gave me specific updates on the baby’s progress. I pushed in a semi-reclined position, lying on my side with someone holding back my raised leg. I was able to brace against them, too, which helped. I held Danny’s hands and squeezed them. That helped, too. I was told I made some rather awesome faces! After one hour of pushing, which seemed like only a few minutes to me, I gathered all my strength and gave the mightiest push of all.

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I watched in the mirror above the bed, as a little, dark, hairy head came out, followed by a body. In an instant, the baby was lying on my naked chest, crying and squirming. “What is it?” I screeched, and the nurse held the baby up so we could see…a boy! My husband was crying, but I don’t think I did. My initial thought was one of relief that the birth was over and we were both okay. Only then did it register that I was a mother. What a beautiful, incredible, blurry, intimate moment. Noah Maximillian was born at 11:42 a.m. on September 17. He weighed 7 pounds, 3 ounces, was 20 inches long, and scored a nine on the Apgar scale. He had lots of dark hair and perfect skin, and was just gorgeous. The actual exit of the baby was not that bad after all. I had heard all the horror stories about women feeling like they were ripping in two and the ring of fire. Getting him out was such a relief. I felt no pain. I did have a small second-degree tear, which they stitched up after I delivered the placenta. They froze the area first, though, so I was feeling fairly good. The rush of adrenaline in the hours following birth was like nothing I had ever felt before. I was on cloud nine. I felt great! I offered Noah my breast about twenty minutes after birth, and he latched on right away and nursed for fifteen minutes. In that moment I was perfectly happy. I had accomplished what I had set out to do. Along the way, I had discovered I was infinitely stronger than I ever thought I was. It was an enlightening moment, one that I will look back on and compare future struggles to, knowing that with a little help from my friends, I can get through anything. Except picking out names! I was so glad we didn’t have to decide on a girl’s name after all.

Lamaze teacher gives birth Christine Hughes Volente, Texas

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became a Lamaze instructor while pregnant with my second daughter Rebekah. I’d given birth to my first daughter Rachel using an epidural block, and although it provided fantastic pain control, I’d always felt like I had missed something. The Lamaze-certification materials I read and the conference I attended filled me with excitement for natural childbirth. With Rebekah’s birth, I intended to join the centuries-old sisterhood of women who have given birth naturally, endured the pain, and survived. I never thought it would be easy, but I believed I had the strength to do it. The night of my due date, I began to feel stronger-than-BraxtonHicks contractions. For several hours, I lay in bed timing them and trying to sleep despite my growing excitement. Around 2:00 a.m., I woke my slumbering spouse. We called our families, and my parents headed down Interstate 35 to be with me. My father arrived first, but my contractions began to slow and then stopped completely. Feeling silly, I sent Dad on his way. My spouse and I napped and played with our two-year-old. Just after lunch, I answered the call of nature and realized my underpants

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were wet. Had I leaked urine, or had my water broken? Unsure, we called my dad back to care for Rachel and drove to the hospital.

I definitely felt silly as the medical staff sent us home again! I’m a childbirth educator, a registered nurse, and a mother of a two-year-old, I thought to myself. Why can’t I get this right? At home, I napped again and began to notice increasingly strong contractions coming at shrinking intervals. By this time, my mother had arrived at our house. When she saw me doubling over with contractions that were coming every three minutes, she raced us out the door. Back at the hospital, I was found to be dilated a measly 2 centimeters and was nearly sent home again! Rather than return home, I agreed to have my water broken. Within just a few hours, I was in the throes of active labor. My two labor coaches, both fellow Lamaze instructors, arrived around 9:00 p.m. to help me labor, while my husband meandered off to the waiting room to watch an action movie with my brothers. We turned the lights down low and put on soft music. I kept my contact lenses out and my glasses off. Without them, the lights visible from my hospital window looked like fat orbs of gold. My coaches massaged me and helped me move into various labor positions. My sister-in-law kept me supplied with cool, wet washcloths. My mother held my hands; her very presence was comforting. The pain was intense. My contractions were long, sometimes lasting as long as four minutes, and had multiple peaks. The contractions felt like a dull fire crackling in my belly. Yet I was succeeding. I was enduring the pain. Moans escaped

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my lips, but I did not cry or wail or scream or shout unflattering remarks at my helpers. I stayed in control. Based on the degree of pain and pressure I was experiencing, we all thought that I must be nearing the end. Around 10:00 or 11:00 p.m., I was examined and found to be at 5 centimeters. Undaunted, we kept up. The pain went on and on, but I stayed strong, and so did my partners. We moved, they massaged, I moaned, my uterus contracted. My daughter’s head, meanwhile, was apparently dribbling up and down on my tailbone, because when I was re-examined a couple of hours later, I was found to be…still at 5 centimeters! The doctor suggested that I get in bed and curve my back outward during contractions. My upright position, he said, was enabling me to arch my back and causing Rebekah’s head to slam against my tailbone, rather than moving down through my pelvis. So I returned to bed. Being in bed made the contractions much more excruciating. I could barely hang on. The contractions also slowed down, but I was able to rest between them. After another hour or so I was examined again and was found to still be at a five! In quiet desperation from pain and exhaustion, I asked my mother, “How am I going to have the strength to push?” “God will give you the strength,” she replied. To be honest, that’s not what I was hoping to hear. I wanted her to run out into the hall, demanding that I be pumped full of drugs. However, she turned out to be right. After receiving a few drops of Pitocin, I suddenly felt the urge to have a bowel movement. The baby was moving into the birth canal, and the end was in sight. Finally! My coaches called for the nurse, who examined me and said I had dilated to 8 centimeters but was not ready to push until the cervix had fully dilated. That’s when things got exciting, to put it mildly. The urge to

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push, when it arrives, unimpeded by the deadening effects of painkilling drugs, is awesome in its raw power. It’s like having an earthquake in your body. Fighting the urge to push, trying to give your poor cervix time to dilate out of the way before it’s smashed to smithereens, is like fighting the urge to have diarrhea. You just can’t fight it for very long. My coaches helped me pant through my next few contractions. As long as I stayed focused on Pam, my main helper, kept quick breaths puffing out of my lungs, and didn’t break eye contact with her for so much as a split second, I could keep from bearing down. But with every heartbeat, it became increasingly difficult to resist the overwhelming urge to push. “I have to push! Check me again!” I shouted to the nurse. “Want me to wait until your contraction is over?” she asked. “No! Now!” I screamed, flipping onto my back. She checked. “Nine!” she reported. “Hold on just a little longer! You don’t want to tear up your cervix!” The contraction ended, and I gulped air. I tried. I really, really tried, but with the next contraction, I simply could not hold back. I broke eye contact with Pam, stopped the quick, puffing breaths, and gave a tremendous, satisfying, terrifying push. “I’m pushing!” I wailed to my coaches, nearly panicking. “Blow! Blow! Blow!” they shouted. Pam squeezed my hands; her face was inches from mine. Concentration was all that stood between me and a pulverized cervix. The delivery room became a flurry of activity as the staff prepared for the birth of my baby. A quick exam by the doctor revealed that I was finally fully dilated. “Now push!” he commanded, just as my contraction ended. “I will when I’m ready!” I snapped. Everyone chuckled. As my next contraction began, my nurse told me to go for broke and to

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push as hard as I could. Everyone began to shout instructions, but I listened only to the primal powerful directives of my own body. I pushed down with every last shred of strength that I possessed. Rebekah rocketed down through my pelvis. I felt no pain as her head exploded out of my body, tearing my perineum. All I felt was shock as they said, “The head’s out! Don’t push!” Seconds later, Rebekah’s entire body was out. She began to scream with rage, and the nurse laid her on my chest. Videotape of this moment shows me dumbfounded, with my mouth hanging open in the most comical expression of disbelief. My poor scrambled brain struggled to understand. Was it over? How could she be out already? After taking so long, how had it ended so fast? Still astonished, I stared down at my red-faced, chubby little daughter. I had done it. Done it when I didn’t think I could.

The grand entrance of the second man in my life Jennie C. Las Vegas, Nevada

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had a model pregnancy. I felt great throughout the duration and luckily had no real problems. The worst problem that I had was the baby being breech from weeks thirty-one to thirty-five and feeling like he constantly needed to have his head on my lungs or stomach. I had started dilating by week thirty-six, so we knew everything was going well. At my thirty-seventh week appointment, my doctor agreed to induce me at week thirty-nine. My husband Dennis was working long hours and variable days, and my mom, who lives near Chicago, would be able to go ahead and buy an airplane ticket to come out right after Ben was born. I think the doctor knew how sick of being pregnant I was (and believe me, by that point the only thing you want is for that kid to come out!). This was also reassuring for us, knowing he would be here on or before a certain date. We wouldn’t be stuck waiting around for him to be born and would be able to move forward into this next phase of our lives. I was scheduled to be at the hospital at 7:00 a.m. All kinds of paperwork had to be filled out, so it was close to 8:30 a.m. before

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anything really got started. I was positive for Group B streptococcus, so my ob/gyn had instructed the nurse staff to wait to break my water until I had received two doses of penicillin. The nurse got me all set up with an IV drip of penicillin and a small dose of Pitocin. The morning passed by very easily. At one point, the nurse asked me if I had a contraction coming, and I simply didn’t know because I hadn’t realized that I was really in labor. I was contracting, but I couldn’t feel anything, which was great! The nurse broke my water about 1:00 p.m. This was the only gross part of the entire experience. All of a sudden, there was just a gush of warm fluid. I felt like I had peed my pants! Of course, the nurse had placed a giant pad (similar to a diaper) underneath me, which caught all the fluid. I was still grossed out by it. I had decided that I would try to go through the birth without an epidural block. But about forty-five minutes after the nurse had broken my water, the contractions became really strong, and I felt like I needed something. The anesthesiologist came relatively quickly, which I was very glad about. Some people say that having the needle inserted into your back is horrible. It didn’t feel great, but it wasn’t the worst pain of my life. About ten minutes after the epidural, all of the pain was gone. I was able to relax and snooze through the afternoon. One of the unexpected side effects of the epidural was my left leg falling asleep. I couldn’t move it at all! I had to hook my right ankle over my left, and then push or pull in whichever direction I wanted it to move. I had such a relaxed feeling that I didn’t mind too much, especially after the pain that I had felt before the epidural. About 5:30 p.m., I started to have sharp pain in my lower right groin. My nurse had come to check on me, so I told her about this. She said that she was going to help with a C-section, but if I needed the anesthesiologist to come back, I should call the nurses’ desk. This was the first time that I was really having a lot of pain.

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The nurse came in, looked, and theorized that the baby’s head was putting pressure on my pelvic bone. She said she would page the anesthesiologist. Unfortunately, this happened during a shift change. Dennis, who had been sitting around all day, was now up and running around, trying to figure out what was taking so long. It took a full thirty minutes for the anesthesiologist to come back, and that was by far the worst thirty minutes. All I could do was lie there and moan. I was really hurting. Once I got another dose of medicine, I felt fairly good again. About 7:30 p.m., my new nurse called my doctor to let her know that she should come in. My doctor told her that she should get out all the tools and cover necessary areas, and that I should do some practice pushing. I didn’t have any problem pushing, and the nurse let me know that I was doing well. My leg was still asleep at this point, so Dennis had to pick it up and help me move it. At about 8:15 p.m., I was all ready to go, but there was no doctor! My doctor was delayed because she had gotten an emergency call to deliver a baby at twenty weeks at another facility. She finally arrived between 8:45 and 9:00 p.m. I don’t remember exactly how long I pushed. It was somewhat strenuous, although not too bad. I couldn’t see or feel what I doing (plus I’m not a doctor, so I had no idea how things were progressing). I knew I didn’t really want an episiotomy and asked the doctor not to cut me. Finally, she ended up using the vacuum extractor. She explained that it would help pull the baby down and save me a lot of exhaustion from pushing. I was leery but had all the confidence in the world with my doctor—plus I just wanted this all to be done! Vacuum extraction did help a lot. I could feel when his head crowned, but it wasn’t painful. It just felt tight. I remember looking down and seeing the back of a head with dark, curly hair coming out. I was surprised, because I didn’t realize he was so close to being born!

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From there, I just figured that I was supposed to push, and the baby would slide the rest of the way out. But a couple of times, the doctor told me not to push, or not to push as hard, which surprised me. Finally, at 9:27 p.m., after about twelve and a half hours of labor, my son was born. It was amazing! I couldn’t believe that he was finally here and that I had just given birth! It was so surreal. Even though he was born a week before his estimated due date, Ben came into this world weighing 7 pounds, 5 ounces, measuring 20 inches long, and with a full head of dark hair. They put him on my chest, and Dennis cut the umbilical cord. He had said all along that he didn’t want to, but when the doctor handed him the shears and said, “Cut right here, Dad,” he stepped up to the plate. Almost immediately after being born, Ben started peeing and came close to hitting the doctor with his stream. I had a little tear and needed three stitches. The stitches took about ten minutes, by which time they had already cleaned up Ben, and Dennis was holding him. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to hold him right away. I was feeling very jittery and numb from the medicine, as well as my natural adrenaline. My nurse got me some grape juice (all I had been allowed all day was ice chips) and left us alone for a little while.

Words can’t describe the joy and disbelief that I felt as I held Ben and looked down at his little face. Dennis was in the corner of the room, talking on the phone, with tears just streaming down his face. I felt the same way. I just couldn’t quite grasp the concept that Ben was here! He was the little thing that had been moving around in my belly and that we had waited so long to see.

My little Corndog Anne Rothbard Clovis, California

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y pregnancy progressed normally, and I spent every chance I had reading baby books. I read every single word, whether I thought it would apply to me or not. When I read one story about a woman with gestational diabetes, I realized that I had some of the same symptoms, and that made me somewhat nervous. I didn’t want to seem like one of those first-time pregnant women who call the doctor for every single little thing, but my symptoms were almost a match. So I called my doctor’s office the next morning and asked if I could take a test for gestational diabetes. The nurse told me that I could come in any time and they would check my urine. She gave me instructions, and two days later I went in. I waited in the waiting room for the results. The nurse confirmed that I had sugar in my urine and ordered the sugar test. Sure enough, my sugar levels were over the limit although I had fasted for twelve hours. I was ordered to control the diabetes with diet, exercise, and finger-prick monitoring. Unfortunately, this didn’t help me, so I was put on insulin shots. I was told that I would have to give myself four shots a day in my stomach for the next three months. I was scared and couldn’t believe this was happening to me.

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I couldn’t give myself the shots, and my husband Alex didn’t expect me to, which was nice. He gave me a shot in the morning, and then, twice a day, I drove to his work. He would give me the second and third shots in his office, and then the fourth shot in the evening at home. During all of this, I continued my diet and exercise, but I couldn’t stop craving corndogs! I wanted them for breakfast and would eat them with my eggs. I ate a corndog for lunch with a salad and ate one for dinner with whatever we were having. Of course, I couldn’t crave something like apples or grapes or lettuce. I craved corndogs! I nicknamed the baby “my little Corndog,” and before you knew it, everyone was asking how Corndog was and if Corndog was kicking. My due date was March 19, but on March 12, I woke up around 4:00 a.m. cramping. I thought maybe I just had to go to the bathroom, so I did and then went back to bed. The cramping kept happening, so I thought maybe I was having contractions. It was still really early, so I didn’t want to wake Alex yet.

I snuck out of bed, sat outside enjoying the beautiful morning, and kept timing the contractions. At 6:00 a.m. I went back inside, took a shower in the guest bathroom, got dressed, and went back outside to wait some more. I felt good. Finally, around 7:00 a.m., I woke Alex and told him that the contractions were five minutes apart. He flew out of bed and jumped into the shower. I called the hospital, and they told me to come in. We drove to the hospital, and when they checked me, I was disappointed that I was only dilated to 1 centimeter. I was 80 percent effaced and in the early stages of active labor, but they told me I

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should go home and wait because it could be many hours. We went back home, and Alex and I decided to go for a walk at the local park. After an hour of that, I wanted a corndog, so we went back home so I could eat. I felt like nothing was happening, but we didn’t know what to do. We decided to go shopping and drove to the mall and walked and shopped. We shopped for three hours, and it was great! Alex was in a very giving mood, considering I was going to give him a son or daughter any day, and I loved it! By 4:00 p.m., we didn’t know what to do, so we walked back and forth in our backyard while I ate three corndogs. We called both of our parents and asked if they wanted to go to dinner. We couldn’t wait to tell them that I was in labor. So we all met at an Italian restaurant, and they were shocked to learn that I had been in labor all day, that I was already dilated, and that I had been to the hospital earlier. During dinner I started having tiny contractions. Of course, everyone started getting excited, and I kept assuring them that these were really little and probably not real contractions. Throughout dinner, the contractions kept getting harder, but I acted like it wasn’t a big deal. On our way home, the contractions were getting stronger and closer together. I actually started gripping the door handle and the back of my husband’s seat. My husband thought it would be smart to head to the hospital for them to check me. When they did, I couldn’t believe I was still at a one! I was in so much pain that they gave me some Demerol and sent me home again. Around 2:00 a.m., I was in so much pain that I was crying, and my husband was getting angry at the hospital for not doing anything for me. We called the nurses’ station and asked to speak to Kelly, the nurse who gave me Demerol. I told her I was in so much pain that I couldn’t stand it any longer. She said I could come in and they could induce me, if I wanted. I decided to wait

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because I was afraid that if they induced me, my contractions would get worse and I would still be a long way from an epidural. Kelly agreed and said to wait until 6:00 a.m. and then come in and she would check me. By 6:30 a.m. I was back in the hospital with intense contractions. Kelly was with another patient, so I agreed to let another nurse check me. She said I was at a four, and I was thrilled. I felt like I was finally getting there. They decided I was there to stay, and I felt pure relief. Kelly came in thirty minutes later to say hi and check on me. She said that the nurse had made a mistake and that I was just barely at 3 centimeters. I immediately panicked because I thought they would send me home again. She told me they wouldn’t, so I was happy about that. She asked if I was okay for now, and I said yes. I think I felt better just knowing that I was there and not going home again. Two hours later, I was at 4 centimeters. They then gave me an epidural block, which hurt a little but was nothing that I couldn’t handle. As soon as the needle came out of my back and I found a comfortable position, the nurse looked at the monitor—and two more nurses rushed in. Corndog’s heartbeat had dropped from the normal 160 range to only 70. One nurse immediately called the doctor, while another gave me oxygen. A doctor, not mine, burst through the door and said they were taking me to the operating room. I didn’t know at the time that the nurse had been telling the doctor that Corndog’s heartbeat had dropped and that he had started yelling at a nurse to have the operating room ready. I was immediately taken for an emergency Cesarean section. They had given me Stadol right before the epidural, so I was way too out of it to realize the seriousness of the situation. I felt like I was there, but not there. Alex was with me when they did the C-section. At 8:35 a.m. on March 13, my little Corndog, Hannah Riley, was born. When

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I heard she weighed 8 pounds, 14 ounces, I knew I had eaten too many corndogs! Hannah is now four months old, and we can’t imagine our lives without her. Just looking at her makes us smile, and we can’t walk by her without picking her up. Our little Corndog is the best thing that ever happened to us. And I can’t wait for the day that we sit down and enjoy our first corndog together!

Afterword

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very birth is special because it is the beginning of a new life. Your new baby is the ultimate gift after dealing with sleepless nights, backaches, gaining too much weight, endless peeing, and people rubbing your belly. Your baby is a gift for you to love and cherish. Ultimately, it is the woman’s decision how to bring her baby into the world. Unless a doctor advises you to change your plans, only you can decide what is best for this experience. While some women want a room full of people, others only want their partner present. There are women who want to test their strength by not having drugs and enduring childbirth as women have experienced it for centuries, while other women welcome drugs as quickly as possible because they feel they can enjoy the experience more if they are in less pain. Some women want the comfort and surrounding of home while others desire the safety of a hospital. How you choose to bring your baby into the world is your choice. It is based on what you feel comfortable with and what is best for you and your precious baby. Good luck, future new mom! It’s an awesome ride!

If you would like to share your birthing story, please email me at [email protected].

About the Author

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ith two children of her own, LaNita McMeekanCates felt the need to share stories from women of all walks of life and geographic areas about their experiences of childbirth. LaNita owned her own marketing, adverPaula Showen, Showmar Photography tising, and public relations company before becoming a top-producing RE/MAX Realtor. She lives in Plainfield, Illinois, with her husband, son, and daughter. This is her first book.