This was my fourth child. The first pregnancy was a Cesarean section (1989); the other two were VBACs (1999 and 2000).

The two doctors I actually saw for this pregnancy (2004) were differing in opinion about inducing. One said absolutely not. C-section if the due date came and went, or I could schedule it for the upcoming week (which would have been right about the actual due date). The other doctor was indifferent. (The third doctor at the practice I never met.)

I was due December 7, having constant Braxton-Hicks contractions and Baby was bigger than the others. (The other three kids were two and three weeks early, 6 to 7 1/2 pounds each – C-section/VBAC/VBAC.)

I went in December 1 with inconsistent contractions and was told not yet, Baby would be here by Monday, though!

I went in the next day (middle of the night actually). The doctor who saw me the day before never stepped foot into the room. I was 3 centimeters dilated; she wouldn't admit till I got to 4.

The nurse saw what pain I was in, and said I was close enough to a 4 for her! Still, that doctor never came in!

About 7 a.m. the other doctor came in (he was the one I'd never seen at the practice). They sent for the guy to do the epidural and he showed up while my husband was off to get some food.

It worked; then I started feeling things on my right side. The epidural guy came back, readjusted things, then my blood pressure dropped drastically with it. I don't remember a whole lot after that, just the look on my husband's face!

A little bit later I felt a pop and pain on my lower left side, and there was a bulge – a big bulge! The nurse told someone to get the doctor. (The tone in her voice was RUSH!) All I knew was it hurt bad!

The next thing I knew the doctor was there and everyone was rushing. The only things I remember were how fast the nurse used the razor (funny thing to remember, huh?!), three more pops with lots of pain, how fast the gurney was going down the hall and how badly I wanted something to knock me out!

We were in the operating room at this point. My husband later told me that he didn't even have time to suit up before they had the baby out!

After they woke me up (barely!) they took me to see the baby (don't even know where he was at this point). I didn't have my glasses, so I couldn't see him. The nurses were scrambling to find my husband because he had them. I found out from him later that he was in the men's room – he had broken down and was praying for us.

They pushed me off to my room and I don't remember much till the next day. When the nurse helped me up to go to the bathroom, she asked if I wanted to go down to the NICU to see the baby since I was up (she had a wheelchair there already). I said sure!

While I was there, one of the pediatricians was there and he said, It's not often we see a baby who went through what he did, survive. Guess he could tell by my expression that I had no idea what he was talking about!

He told me about the various tubes and cords attached to him; I guess I just shut down after hearing that Baby had blood in his lungs. I just praised God that he was still alive!

I later learned about the painful lump. Baby had torn through my uterus. The other pops were placental abruptions.

Baby is now 7 1/2 months old and progressing normally, much to the amazement of the doctors. (I found out that Baby's Apgar was a 1.) To the rest of us who believe in the power of prayer in Christ's name, it's a miracle!

I just want to be sure that others are informed in their decision of a VBAC. The doctor who delivered had actually read something a few days prior to my delivery about the third VBAC being the most dangerous. Maybe if I'd seen him in the office, if he knew this was my third VBAC, he wouldn't have used Pitocin or even tried for another VBAC. Either way, I'm just grateful that the Lord brought both of us through!