I have to give a little background on my pregnancy to start. First, I never once stopped having my period during my pregnancy until the last month. Second, my pregnancy went unnoticed by ultrasound and urine tests because of a large cyst on the front of my uterus (probably caused from damage to the uterus during my first pregnancy).

Third, my insurance situation made prenatal care poor in comparison to my first pregnancy, although in the end, I was able to go back to my own practice and the doctor that I had wanted to deliver my first child. OK, now to the labor.

Just as with my first son, I worked most of the day that I went into labor. I had a NST scheduled for that afternoon and was planning to leave work early. At about 1 p.m. my boss asked me if I wanted to leave.

Maybe I didn't look too good since I was trying to hide how odd I felt. I had been taking straight iron pills in addition to vitamins because I was very iron deficient and had been anemic since the birth of my first son and did not feel so great. I went into the bathroom at work, and when I stood up I continued going. I thought that it was probably my water but wasn't sure.

At this point, I left the bathroom and told my boss that I thought I would leave early. While on the road I felt more liquid pour out, and it was a pretty good amount. I then started to panic. I wasn't ready, and my test at the doctor's was supposed to confirm a due date that was speculated to be almost a month away.

I couldn't think of anyone to call who wasn't at work, so I called the only person who I knew was available, my friend Becky. Now, I love Becky and we are close enough that she knew something was going on before I even said, I think my water broke. Becky met me at my house, and I had already called the office to see if I should wait for my appointment or go straight in.

The nurse said not to wait too long since I could not positively say that the water was clear. You see, the iron pills caused my urine to be very cloudy and yellow, and since the water leaked into the toilet, I couldn't tell. I was definitely worried, though, because I had been having back pain for two days and was now realizing that I had probably been in labor. If this were the case, my little boy could be in trouble.

I went home and packed, called Dad and made arrangements for my 2-year-old to stay with my sister who was coming in for the birth. Off we went to the doctor's office.

I got sent straight in, and he seemed to think that I was still in for my regular appointment. He asked how I was doing and if they had dated my pregnancy at the NST. I told him I never went because my water broke. OH! was his response. Then he took a look. He said I was about 5 centimeters dilated and that the water looked clear. I was still concerned about that and asked him if he could check again.

With him still saying it was clear, I went out to the car to get my bag and call my sister, who had a two-hour ride, and my other sister who would also be at the birth to video. My older sister was afraid that she wouldn't make it since I had progressed so fast. I told her to move because the two of them were fantastic at my first birth, and I didn't think I could do it without them.

Becky was still with me but in total shock. She's not really good with blood and hospitals and such. I hand it to her, though. She stuck with me and was really great.

By the time I got checked in, I asked if I could take a shower because I felt yucky. They let me, but the water was not hot. I came out cold and feeling clean, but not relaxed. At this time, people started to arrive. My mom, one sister and Daddy, Cory.

I had to send everyone out of the room because I had requested and was about to receive an enema. I never asked for this with my first son, but I knew it was best because of the iron I had been taking. At this point, I asked the nurse if she would please check the pad on the bed because I was still nervous about meconium. Well, sure enough, there was one large greenish spot on the pad, and I knew I was right. She called in the doctor who was going to be delivering, and she also confirmed it.

Suddenly, an IV pole was being wheeled in, and I asked if I had to have an IV. I was told in no uncertain terms that yes, it was ordered for both my safety (anemic) and the baby's (meconium). I had a bad feeling that something was going on that I was not being told about, but I was not going to ask. I had seen this doctor after the birth of my first son, and she was the one who saved me from bleeding to death after they found my uterus didn't go down because it was filled with blood. I trusted her then, and I trusted her now.

By now, both of my sisters were there, and Becky was still holding strong. My sisters went to get something from the cafeteria, and Dad had to go to a father-son night at school with his first son that we both felt he could not miss. It was very important. We figured he'd be back on time.

So there we were, Becky and me. And things started to get intense. Although it isn't really necessary to continue timing your contractions at this point (about 8 centimeters), Becky was. Suddenly they were one on top of each other, and she simply stated, No, that was too soon. I agreed because I needed more that 10 seconds between them, and I wasn't getting it.

When it came time to push with my first son, contractions had slowed to about five minutes in between, and it seemed a breeze. Well now I was paying for it. My sisters came back and knew it was time. I was very relaxed with my first birth and handled it well, but they knew my signs. First my feet sweat, and although the rest of me had to be covered, my feet had to come out. Then I started to get really thirsty.

I was not doing as well as I had the first time around, and my sisters commented to each other and to Becky about this. The contractions were nonstop and were very painful. I had opted to go naturally again and had no medication. I really started to lose control. I was now begging for just a break, just one minute in between. It was at this point that Becky decided she had to go. I didn't acknowledge her departure because I was having ANOTHER contraction without a break from the one before.

It came time to push, and unlike the first time, I actually felt the urge. I told my sisters, and the nurse and doctor were called in, as well as the respiratory therapist for the baby. I had, at this point, totally lost control. I was trying to keep up with the contractions but found it increasingly harder to do as I started to push.

The nurse told me that I had to calm down and stop losing control. I was very aggravated by this since, although I had my sisters, this trained nurse had not been helpful and not said much until this brilliant piece of advice came out of her mouth. I told her that I was sorry, I couldn't help it, and I really couldn't.

Then it hit me. I had this incredible urge to pee. I said so, and they actually wanted me to get up and go to the bathroom. I had been pushing for over 30 minutes, and they thought I had the energy and time to get up to pee. I couldn't even bring myself to consider it, and then the urge went away. Too bad it came back on the next push, and out it came.

Now with my full bladder out of the way, things moved even more quickly. Suddenly his head was ready to emerge. The doctor advised me not to push once the head came out so they could do some heavy suctioning before anything else. My lord, did this hurt. I was literally holding myself up in the air through most of the pushing due to the pain, and now I had to turn to my left side and squeeze the bed rails as hard as I could to keep myself from pushing him all the way out.

Then one final push and he was here. But I was still in pain. I did not have an episiotomy and only had a little tear, but she did not start to stitch me up. I was pouring blood from somewhere, and it was not good.

I was now watching the respiratory therapist suction out my son's lungs, and there was a lot of meconium. Once it was out, though, he cried a loud, healthy cry. I was relieved. He scored 9 and 9 on his Apgars.

I was just staring at him when I realized that I was having trouble even keeping my head tilted up. I was so drained and was now covered from butt to toes in my own blood. It was still pouring out of me. I asked my sisters to watch the baby and talk to him. I wanted him to hear a friendly voice, and since I couldn't really see straight, yet alone get ready to hold him, theirs would have to do. I did tell them that were not allowed to hold him until either I had been able to or his dad. (Daddy rushed back from the school thing only to miss the birth by about 20 minutes).

I had not delivered the placenta yet after a significant amount of time had passed, and I was wondering why. We decided to try pushing, but blood just came out faster, and the doctor did not like this at all. Finally the placenta started to come out, but it was only small pieces. She finally decided that she would have to go in and get it.

This is the most painful thing I have ever had happen to me. I could feel her arm swooping around my insides. The placenta, although in pieces, was huge. I remember hearing my sister ask if it was supposed to be all broken up like that. The doctor replied No, not normally. They both caught me looking at them and suddenly got very quiet. This was not good.

I finally got to hold my little man. Daddy did get to hold him first, and then they weighed him. It's funny, when we were all guessing his weight by looks we all had guesses around 7 pounds. But he weighed 8 pounds even, just like my first son. He was shorter, though (19 inches compared to 20 1/2 inches), and I really thought he'd be much smaller. I guess looks can be deceiving.

He started to breastfeed right away. We had finally chosen a middle name that night, and he was named Aidan Michael. He's not named for anyone, although I do have a brother named Michael. We just liked the name.

I was now finally being stitched up. I asked if my older son could come in. He was 2 years old, and I was so sad that I would not see him for a few days. My whole pregnancy was filled with emotions about changing his life without asking and other feelings about taking away from him. I get upset thinking about it now.

I really wanted to see him before he left. He came in and lay on the bed with me, and we read a book together and he got to look at Aidan. My Joseph is the most precious thing, and all he did was kiss the baby and lie with me. It was like he understood and did not want to leave me.

I wish he could have stayed. But I was really very weak, and he was starting to get upset at my looks. I was ghostly pale and couldn't really hold him. Then he started to cry when we told him it was time to go. Then I started to cry and kissed him and told my father to please take him before I got worse. This was horrible.

About 10 p.m. a nurse came in to clean me up, and it took almost an hour. With Becky and Cory outside of the room, I got washed up and was told that I would have to move to another room because I had to get out of the blood-soaked bed. At about 11 p.m. I was moved and ready to sleep.

Cory was heading home since there was no place for him to stay, and the beds were not actually comfortable anyway, and Becky had had a long day with me. Both promised to come back the next day and help me get things together. I told them that I probably would not be going home after the routine 24 hours since I didn't with Joseph, and although I had bleeding with his birth, it wasn't nearly as much.

Then I started to get the chills. Then I was so hot. I had a fever. The poor nurse that evening had to do everything for me. I was not allowed to get out of the bed without a nurse there to help me. I couldn't keep my head up long enough to have conversations. A nurse had to practically carry me to the bathroom and back. I couldn't believe how awful I felt.

Aidan was brought to me twice that night to eat, and he was allowed to stay in the room and sleep with me in the bed for small amounts of time. But I think they were worried that I was not in good enough shape to be by myself for a long time because nurses were in and out many times. I was on so many drugs both orally and through my IV since I was still bleeding very heavily.

The next day (Thursday) I was told that I might have to have a D&C because there might be parts of placenta remaining. The nurses found that my uterus was contracting well and going back down to normal, so it was only a possibility. I saw so many doctors, but no one gave any definite reason for the bleeding, and a D&C was never performed. I was told I would be staying another night.

The next day my delivery doctor came back again and told me that I had lost a lot of blood. So much so that she was walking around with twice as much blood in her body as I had in mine. It explained the way people were looking at me, as if I were dying and they didn't want to tell me.

I finally got to take a shower (sitting on a stool). When I looked in the mirror I was in shock. I had broken blood vessels in my eye and could see my veins through my entire body. I looked horrendous. Then the clots started. And I'm not talking little clots. I am talking huge, had to push to get them out, fist-size blood clots nearly every time I got up. Something was not right.

That night I was given four units of blood. The following day I felt better, and it made me realize how awful I was feeling. Finally, that Saturday, February 14, I was able to be released with Aidan.

Aidan will be 2 months old this Sunday, Easter. I am currently still bleeding, and my doctors are concerned. I am having blood work done weekly and have another ultrasound scheduled for Monday. I don't know what they'll find, but this has made me think really hard about trying for that girl we'd like. I love my boys and am blessed to have them both. My first birth experience was fantastic aside from a bad doctor, and this was the opposite.

Aidan Michael was born at 7:36 p.m. on Wednesday, February 11, 2004, weighing 8 pounds and 19 inches long. Regardless of the birth experience, I love everything about him, and if this is the way it had to be to have him in my life, then that is the way it is. And I would do it again a thousand times over to have him. He is a big eater, gaining almost 3 pounds in the first month and growing over 2 inches. He had a little colic, but has since started to grow out of it.

Joseph loves him and is a fantastic big brother. Daddy dotes on him, and Mommy, well I do what mommies do best: I love my boys.

Thank you for reading my very long story.