To start things off, I had been trying to conceive for six years without any success. After being diagnosed with PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) in 1999 and a blocked tube after a HSG (hysterosalpingogram), I started to think of myself as never becoming a mother.

My partner and I never thought that it would happen. So I talked to my specialist about at least having a regular menstrual cycle. He prescribed a birth control pill and told me not to take it until the first Sunday of the following month to make things easier. So I waited.

About one week from my start date of the pill I felt like I was coming down with the flu. I felt terrible! I sent my partner out for some cold and flu medicine from the drugstore because I couldn't take it anymore. I took that for a while, and things started to get better. But then my breasts started to hurt like no one's business.

Well it turned out that I was pregnant! Finally, we were going to have a baby. My pregnancy was fine after I got through the 5 1/2 months of morning sickness that sent me to the ER four times. Through it all, the baby was fine. All the prenatal screenings were good. All good signs of a healthy baby to come despite my size – 209 pounds – and history of PCOS.

Two days before my due date I was miserable. I couldn't breathe, walk, eat, sleep, sit, stand or smile at that point because of my incredible attitude.

I went in to my appointment with my midwife and asked her to check my cervix. She did, and I was 50 percent effaced and totally closed. My face dropped to the floor. I became very discouraged. I begged my midwife to induce me, and she said no.

December 8 was my due date. It was December 12, and no baby yet. I was evil at this point, and I liked no one. I just wanted this over. I didn't like being pregnant anymore. I felt like the midwives just wanted to see how long I could stay pregnant, as if I were some mad lab experiment.

I went in to have my non-stress test. They also wanted to check to see if the baby had turned faced down yet (she was sunny side up at the last ultrasound) and to get an estimated fetal weight.

Wow! the doctor said as he was doing the scanning. What a chunky baby. She is about 8 1/2 to 9 pounds. He said he was going to call my midwife and strongly recommend an induction.

The next day, my midwife said she would schedule the induction if I hadn't had the baby over the weekend. I was to come in to labor and delivery on Monday, December 15 if I didn't go into labor by myself.

Of course, there was no baby over the weekend. So they checked me in at 6 a.m. on December 15. They gave me the greatest room, shower, birthing spa pool, the works! I felt like a princess.

My midwife checked me again to see if I had changed from last internal exam, and I hadn't. She started the cervical gel to thin my cervix and maybe kick start some real contractions. Four hours passed, and nothing. She inserted another application.

She came back four hours later, and nothing. So she said she wanted to crank it up a little. She wanted to insert another gel and start Pitocin. So I agreed because I just wanted something to happen.

The contractions started about 45 minutes after the Pitocin was started. They weren't that bad – at first. They cranked up the dosage every half hour, and the contractions were unbearable. I needed something.

My midwife checked my cervix again. I was fully effaced but only 1 centimeter dilated. I cried. After 12 hours, two cervical gels and this horrible Pitocin, I basically did nothing.

So she said she wanted to really get things in gear. They came back and inserted a Foley balloon in between my cervical opening. With time and pressure, it would mechanically make me dilate. They assured me that it would get me to at least 4 centimeters and it would slip out on its own.

Let me put it to you this way. They inserted the Foley balloon at around 7p.m. on Monday, and it was still in place at 6 a.m. Tuesday morning. They couldn't understand why. So they started my Pitocin drip again with the Foley balloon still in place all day Tuesday.

All they could give me was Stadol for the pain. I hated it because I felt paralyzed but was still able to feel the pain. I lost track of time at this point.

They decided to remove the Foley balloon to avoid an infection. When they did, it had only dilated me to 3 centimeters. I was really ready to give up, and the doctors and midwives agreed. They held a special meeting just about me to see where we were going from there.

We all decided to quit because even though I was past my due date by a week and 3 days, this baby wasn't ready to be born. There was no need for a Cesarean section, even though they were predicting an 8 1/2-pound baby. They told me to come back next Monday (2 weeks overdue), and we would try again.

So I went home and sobbed around the house. I had to take my temperature every four hours to make sure I wasn't getting an infection. Everything seemed normal. I lay down on the chaise lounge chair as usual because I couldn't sleep in the bed.

At 2 a.m. that Sunday morning I got up to go to the bathroom as usual. As I got up, I thought I had lost my bladder. So I went to the bathroom anyway.

I knew that my water had just broken. But it was not a clear fluid like it should have been. I called my midwife and told her what was going on. She said to get my things together and come on in.

We got to the hospital. The nursed checked my fluid, and, indeed, it had meconium in it. They decided to flush my uterus with saline to clear out the meconium and start Pitocin because the contractions were not coming regularly.

Pitocin, IV, catheter and uterine saline were started. Like before, the contractions were ugly. I demanded an epidural.

My epidural was inserted. I started to feel some relief after about 30 minutes, but only on the right side of my body. They had to reinsert the epidural, and they finally got it right. The pain was subsiding, and I fell asleep.

About 30 minutes later I awake in pain. The epidural wore off in 30 minutes! The anesthesiologist gave me more, a total of five times with the medication wearing off in 30 minutes every time.

Without my knowing, the entire day had gone by. It was about 9 p.m. Sunday night. I felt this incredible urge to push, along with some wicked pressure. The doctor checked me again, and I was only 5 centimeters.

I begged for a C-section. I couldn't take it any longer. The epidural wasn't working. They had the Pitocin turned up full blast, and I wasn't supposed to push but couldn't resist.

At 11 p.m. Sunday night the OB team decided to do the C-section. I was stalling at 5 centimeters mainly because the baby was face up.

They wheeled me into the OR, and at 12:35 a.m. Monday, December 23, 2002, my beautiful baby daughter, Cheyenne, cried her way into the world. The pediatric team took her immediately because of the fear of meconium aspiration. They bought her to me 15 minutes later with news of no meconium.

Cheyenne weighed 7 pounds, 2 ounces and was 20 inches long. I kissed my baby girl and passed out from exhaustion.

Would I do it again? Not the induction, but everything else I would for Cheyenne. After successfully breastfeeding and great weight loss (I topped out at 235 pounds and got down to 176 pounds five months after her birth), Cheyenne's the best thing in the world!