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 Main Page Site Index Getting Pregnant Pregnancy Parenting Pregnancy and Parenting Journals 
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My first child was born in 1992. I was 19 years old. Both my husband and I were in college. Kaleb was due on February 15th. The pregnancy went pretty smoothly. I found out I was pregnant right away and we were both very excited about the baby. We did everything the books and doctors told us to. I was seeing an older female doctor that was from England. She was great. When it was time for the AFP testing, she suggested that we have it done. The day the results came in, she called me at work and told me to get there right away. I was babysitting for two little boys at the time, we owned one car and my husband had it at school. I finally found him and told him to get there right away. We headed for the office. We both were sitting there with a baby in our lap when the doctor said that there was a problem with the blood work. She said I had the lowest level she had ever seen and something horrible was probably wrong with the baby. She wanted to take another blood sample to send in and she order me to go to Denver to a specialist for an amnio and more tests. We needed to decide what we would do if there was something wrong. With that she sent us out of the office with an appointment a week later. It was the longest weeks of our lives. I had decided that even if something was wrong we would keep and love the baby, it must have been a gift from God. I had always wanted to work with children who had special needs and that was what I was going to school for. My husband on the other hand, didn't think he could handle it. And we didn't have insurance. What would we do? That next week, I went to the office to pick up my chart to head to Denver. The receptionist told me the doctor wanted to see me before we left. I went and waited in her office. She came in with a huge grin on her face and hugged me. She had just gotten all the blood work back, it was all normal. The lab had made mistakes four times and the fifth time she sent all the blood back and ordered new tests... it all came back ok. Thank goodness, our worries were over. The next 4 months went smoothly. I had panick attacks about the well being of the baby but it was going well. We made it to the end of January, when one day I woke up itching with a horrible rash all over my body. It was a friday. I thought I must have had something that I was allergic to and decided to wait it out. By that night, I looked like I had the measles, mumps, and chicken pox all at the same time. At midnight, I couldn't stand it any longer. The only place that helped the itching was a freezing cold shower. I told my husband to take me to the ER. We got there and they wouldn't treat me because I was so pregnant. They sent me home with instructions to call the doctor on Monday morning. When I walked into her office, she started to laugh. She knew what was wrong. I had some rare condition that she called PUPS. It was an allergic reaction to the antibodies that the baby was producing and there was nothing to do about it except take the baby out. I could take steriods to get the swelling down, but that was it. She scheduled an induction for the next week. I was so miserable for the next week. It was so awful that I would have never had another baby again if it would have happened again. I think it was worse than childbirth. Well, the next week on Friday morning I went to the hospital to get the gel put on my cervix. They did that three times. Nothing was happening. The next day they started the pit drip. It lasted for two days, with absolutely no results. I was getting so disappointed. Here I was in pain, but nothing was happening. My parents had come for the birth but were leaving on Wednesday that week. Sunday night came. I had the choice to stay and try it again or go home. I chose the latter. Tuesday night about 3 am I woke up to the slightest hint of a pindrop of leaking. I wasn't sure if I was imagining it or if it was real. I woke up my husband. He got some towels, gave them to me and went to sleep on the couch (nice, huh!). By 6 am I was sure that my water had broke, but barely. He had an 8 am class. I told him to go. They wouldn't make me go to the hospital, I didn't have any contractions or anything. Well, when I called the doctor at 8, she said to get there right away. So, here I was with no car. I was glad my parents had decided not to leave town until later that morning. I called up to my aunt's house and said my mom needed to come and get me and take me to the hospital. My mom answered with "Why?" I wanted to jump through the phone and shake her!! We got to the hospital by 8:30. They wanted to start the pitocin right away. I talked them into waiting till my husband got there. He found my note at 9 telling him where I was and to bring me a pillow and got to the hospital in record time. The pit was started at 10 am and at 10:10 pm my son was born. The labor was textbook, progressing readily, with lots of walking. At 9:30 pm my doc decided to stop in to give me some moral support and 5 minutes after she got there I had the huge urge to push. They checked me and sure enough I was ready. They gave me instructions to not push until they were all ready. So three nurses, the doc and my husband were all around me. My parents were out in the hall listening to what was going on. I pushed for ten minutes exactly. Three giant pushes, an episiotomy (that I didn't know happened until after) our first son was born weighing in at 7 lbs 9 ounces, 19.5 inches long. When Kaleb was two I decided we were ready for number two. I went to the doctor to talk to them about getting off the pill and getting pregnant. We were living in another state where midwives were allowed. I found one to see. Carol had told me that it would be probably at least 4 months before I got pregnant due to being on the pill at such a high dose for such a long time. I was back three weeks later. This pregnancy was wonderful. I loved being pregnant. No surprises, just a perfect pregnancy. We opted out of the AFP test this time around, I didn't want the added stress. We were due on November 28th. The week I was due, I was so ready to have this little one, which we knew was a boy, that I decided to speed things up myself. I did everything I could to get labor going, walking, sex etc... nothing worked. The day after my due date a girl friend told me to take castor oil. I did, and sure enough about 9 hours later I was in labor. Went through the night with contractions every five minutes exactly. About 5 am we headed for the hospital. Kaleb had gone back to visit grandparents for the Thanksgiving weekend since that is when we were due. We got there and at 6, Carol came in and broke my water. I was dialated to a four. She gave me some pain med, which I accepted just for the heck of it. About an hour later, all my contractions were completely gone. I got up and walked and walked and walked. We did that until noon. Even with no contractions I had dialated to a six. But they felt the need to induce labor. So once again, against my wishes they turned the pit on. This was started at 1 pm. At 2, after an hour of yelling at Carol and my husband, I felt the need to push. Carol said to wait until she got her coat and gloves on. She walked off... I told her never mind I could do it myself and I crawled up the back of the bed and pushed. Carol made it back after two pushes. The head was out and the rest was on the way. She let me do it on my own, just calmly telling me that it was ok. One more push and Nathan was born. He was beautiful. He weighed 7 lbs 12 ounces and was 20 inches long. I felt wonderful afterwards. No episiotomy, no tearing. It was great. He latched on right after birth didn't quit nursing for 8 months. Three years later. I decided I wanted to try for our girl. It took a couple months to get my husband warmed up to the idea, but I finally did. In Oct. he was interviewed for a promotion with his company. A month later we found out he got it, we would be moving out of state, and I was pregnant. Wow, what a bunch of information at once. I was upset that I was pregnant. It was only one time of trying and I was sure that it didn't take. I didn't want it to happen when we were going through so many changes at once. But I got excited again very soon. We moved during my third month to AZ. It was January. The midwives in AZ were great. I was excited about the pending birth of our "girl". Things were great until about June, when it started getting hot here. We were from Wyo where it gets in the high eighties in the dead of summer, and now I was 8 months pregnant in 115 degree heat. I thought I would die. I was so swollen and miserable. My husband was gone a lot due to job training and was due to be gone the week I was due. At the end of June, I went in for my appointment. The midwife was doing the exam and thought she felt two heads. I panicked. She went and got the ultrasound machine and to my relief, it wasn't two heads, it was a butt and a head, just not in the position that we wanted it in. We had a breach baby. Because I was due two weeks later, and was dialated to almost three, she wanted to try to turn the baby. Three days later, we headed for the hospital to get this baby turned around. I was expecting the worst. I had read up on the procedure, knew the risks and knew that it was supposed to be painful. They gave me the shot of turbuteline and lubbed up my tummy. The baby turned around right away. It was amazing to watch the doctor take her hands and guide the baby to the right position. It was awesome. I was glad it worked because I was looking forward to giving birth at the free standing birth center and we couldn't do a breech birth there. They sent us home to walk and wait until labor started. I was so ready for our girl to get here. My husband left for Minn three days before I was due. The midwife was certain I wouldn't have the baby for at least another week. My parents arrived the same day...just in case. We went four days before I went into labor. At midnight the day after my due date, the first contraction hit. They started every seven minutes and came between seven and five minutes for 5 hours before I called the midwives. I didn't want to wake them too early just in case it was false labor! She called back at 5:15 and said to give it another half and hour. During that half an hour I called my husband and cried to him because he was not here. At 5:45 the midwife called and said to wait another half and hour to see if anything changed. It hadn't. At 6:30 another midwife called and said to head down to the center, it was 35 minutes away and it was raining. I got my mom up and we left for the center. The longest ride of my life. When we got there, I was dialated to a five almost six. I was impressed with myself. I was just sure when we got there that everything would stop and it would be false labor. Going into this situation with my mom present was great, but I was embarrassed for her to see me and how big I was. The midwife, Barbara, decided to break my water at 7:30. Then she asked if I wanted to get in the tub. So I did. Was that wonderful. The next contractions I had were huge. The water helped beyond belief. I lay in that tub groan through every contraction with my eyes closed. I was in there for about an hour. At this point, she asked if I wanted to get out when I felt like pushing. I said I would get out now. I climbed on the bed and lay there. The contractions slowed down, but were still hard to get through. I was looking forward to pushing, since that was the easy part with my prior two births. This time though, I never got that huge urge to push. I was starting to panick and then I didn't want to push at all. She wanted to check my dialation and I refused, all I wanted was this over with. I began giving small attempts at pushing at about 9:30. Then at 9:45 she said the baby's heart rate was dropping so I really needed to push and get him out. So I started pushing with all my might. His head popped out and she needed me to not push so she could suction him (there was a small amount of meconioum in the water). I didn't believe his head was out because I could still feel his feet up under me ribs. By this point, I knew it wasn't my girl, it was my boy. At 10:10, Sam was born. It was hard work, the hardest that I had experienced. I had thrown up twice when I started to push. And with every push I pooped. I was so embarassed about that it was hard to concentrate on what I was trying to accomplish. It was awful. But, once it was over, it seemed ok. Sam was 8 lbs 9 ounces and 22 inches long. I was done. I don't know if this birth was so hard because my husband wasn't there or what it was, but it was by far the hardest thing I had ever done in my life. So now, I am the mother of three beautiful boys. I wouldn't trade any of them for a girl any day. We are done having our babies and look forward to seeing them grow up into great young men.
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