My husband, Earl, and I were walking on eggshells the few days before the birth. The weather was good, then bad, then good, so our home birth plans were changed hourly. At 41 weeks and three days gestation we brought our first child, Christian, and an emergency stash of birth supplies to an ultrasound appointment for a biophysical profile. As I got out of the car I had the strongest Braxton Hicks contraction I'd had yet and had to wait until it was over to move.

During the appointment, the technician pointed out the physical features of the unborn child, and I began to get a little nervous. The baby was breech at 34 weeks and then had turned before 37 weeks. It is extremely unlikely that a baby at that point of gestation would turn back again. There just isn't enough room to float about at will anymore and even a manual external version would be difficult. Well, the baby did turn back to breech, and we were unaware. Anita, the midwife, said she felt uncomfortable with the way baby felt, but because she saw the ultrasound results she just assumed the baby was still breech. She even asked me if I wanted to go have another ultrasound (we had on scheduled and then canceled at 37 weeks). As we left the ultrasound appointment I was thrilled that the baby scored 8/8 on the check list but furious that our plans were once again thwarted. It didn't help my spirits when a major snowstorm moved in and reduced visibility as we neared the midwife office with the enveloped results of my ultrasound. My secondary midwife, Shawn, looked at the results, and we decided that instead of having me take the envelope Anita prepared to the obstetrician, we would page Anita and have her come down and discuss the matter. Midwives are prohibited from delivering breech babies. Shawn left and we spoke with Anita and two other midwives Kathi and Leanne, who was our first year midwifery student. I invited her to be a part of our birth as her training.

While Earl entertained Christian, we discussed all the aspects of the situation, and I decided that I couldn't ignore what was happening anymore. I told them I was in early labor, and my contractions were coming three times in one hour. Anita consulted the on-call obstetrician at St. Joseph's. I decided to allow labor to progress and to have a vaginal delivery since the obstetrician would do it. I considered the risks to me and to the baby, and at that time I didn't feel there was a big risk being taken. My mom and Tom picked up Christian and exchanged cars. We drove to my parents' place and then to our place where they would end up spending four days. By then it was 8:00 p.m., and I ate some pizza while watching the first quarter of Dawson's Creek on Global.

Some guy phoned for Tom and I had a really hard contraction while on the phone. We let Earl's parents know that they weren't going to have to watch Christian. They would have had a hard time getting from Georgetown in the horrible storm anyhow.

I was having contractions every one to five minutes lasting for over 30 seconds, so I told Earl to page Anita. She again consulted with the obstetrician and then phoned us back. By that point we all decided to get me to the hospital, and I left a blunt message for Leanne that said not to bother calling back and if she didn't leave now she'd miss the birth. We got into the car and began the trek to the hospital in 30 centimeters of snow.

The traffic was a disaster. While climbing a hill, a car ahead of us actually began to slide backward. If I hadn't have been concentrating on the contraction I probably would have freaked out. When we reached the hospital Earl parked the car, and we walked to the elevators. When I got to the nursing station in the Labor and Delivery area, Anita was quite relieved and we got through the paperwork while I settled into a room. The contractions had spaced apart to three to five minutes, but were longer and stronger. I was 4 centimeters dilated and quickly progressing.

It was around 9:30 p.m., and I was in active labor but didn't really acknowledge it personally. I couldn't understand what all the fuss was about, even at home when Anita suggested calling an ambulance to get us there. The one thing ringing through my mind during the entire ordeal was something Kathi said at the office about predicting the birth weight of the baby according to the ultrasound. The technician predicted a slightly smaller baby than Christian, and Anita was arguing that since I've already had a larger baby I could pass this baby vaginally. Of course, in the correct position the head would have the chance to compress. I asked Kathi how accurate the prediction was and she said it could be off by a whole pound. I decided that it was just too unsafe and I'd rather take the risks of surgery myself than risk having a perfectly healthy child damaged during delivery (like my friend Joanne said happened to a friend of hers). I signed on the dotted line and while two women were busy pushing their children out to one obstetrician, I labored. Various people checked in on Earl and me. Leanne came in and said she was glad I hadn't had the baby. Then, as my contractions really gained momentum, it dawned on the nurses and obstetrician just how fast this baby was coming. It seemed so sudden.

Dr. DeCicco came in, and I robed and hopped in bed. He checked my cervix and then the shocked looks came. They strapped me in, shaved me and took Leanne and Earl to dress. They rushed me into the operating room and the anesthesiologist (or whatever they call him, I call him the drug guy) began questioning me about thrombocytopenia. He was waiting for my blood test results before giving me an epidural, but they weren't coming, and I was pushing the baby. Before they gave it to me I asked Anita if they'd given me something for the pain and she said they had not. I told her it was too hard not to push. Nobody would let Earl in the room until the decision was made about the drugs so, rather than have the vaginal delivery while waiting for such a trivial item, I said I'd take the general anesthetic. The last thing I heard was that Earl wasn't allowed to come into the room because of the nature of that decision (seeing their wives lying lifeless, eyes taped shut, etc. freaks some guys out). Apparently, Anita talked the drug guy into letting Earl come in, because the obstetrician didn't have a problem with it.

While I was out cold, they cut me open and removed Samson McAulay Close at 11:49 p.m. on Friday, Jan. 8, 1999. They closed me up with internal stitches and external staples.

An hour later I emerged from my dreamless state of unconsciousness, and I saw Anita and Leanne saying hello. Then I saw Earl, who was kind of hard to figure out because he had on a mask and maybe a hat, too, bring Sammy to me. I asked to nurse him and he set him beside me while someone helped me onto my side. It REALLY hurt to move. In fact, after changing beds, Anita noticed how painful it seemed and checked my records. Apparently the post-operative shot of Demerol was overlooked.

After four days in the hospital spent recovering, we went home. Earl made a trip during the stay to get supplies from home and visit with Christian. Christian stopped eating while we were gone and drank only bottled milk until we returned. He also began verbalizing more frequently and just last week he said his first impromptu sentence. While observing a cat in the backyard he said, Naughty cat, squeezing under fence!

Anyhow, my mother went home to shower and rest, and Earl's father came to stay with us. It would have been easier for me if he had just stuck to helping Earl and Earl could be my helper but our needs weren't really clear, so there were a few misunderstandings. One big problem was that I resented being in my home and not being part of my family. I heard all the excitement going on and lived it only through second-hand accounts. I missed playing with Christian, and feeding Sammy was robbing me of sleep and energy. Not to mention I'd just had major surgery. Eventually, I got well enough to do more for myself, and my spirits lifted. David did everything he could for us before having to return home to Joanne who was too ill to come but sent some food. My mom returned for another day to help out and then Dale came to help out the week after that. We had plenty of help but the house was still a mess and there were never enough clean clothes or dishes. Only this week have we caught up with the laundry and the rest of the chores have evened out.

Sammy smiles, coos, grasps objects and hits dangling toys. He was two ounces bigger at birth, 8 pounds, 12 ounces, than his brother and he has gained weight rapidly. Now he weighs over 16 pounds. Tomorrow we find out his current weight when he goes for his first immunization shot. I have been going to La Leche League meetings with him or Christian. He likes to look at books and sleeps through the night. He's a pretty normal baby, which is something that we are truly grateful for after Christian's colic and now sleeplessness and fussiness. When I was only a few days postpartum, Christian tried to push his hand through my healing wound, which set me back a few days and began a mild infection that I steered clear of by using rubbing alcohol for two days. We'll have to start bringing in our photos of Sammy to be developed and distributed too.

Christian likes Sammy and tries to integrate him into his regular activities. He pretends to feed and wash him, he offers him blankets when he's only wearing a T-shirt and he likes to watch diaper changes. He thinks it's odd that he spits, likes it when Sammy makes little bubbles on his lips, and enjoys holding and stroking Sammy. Christian does get sad when he needs hugs and I'm busy trying to feed Sammy or meeting some other need of Sammy's. Lately I've been able to put Sammy into the swing, and he plays with a toy while I comfort Christian. It's worst after naptime. Have a good day folks and thanks for wading through this.