Real Baby and Birth Stories from Real Women

Welcome to MotherGather

Posted By on May 2, 2010

Thank you for being here! I hope you find what you came for.

mothergather Di and Ev

Here is the story behind MotherGather. When I was first pregnant, I asked practically every mother I could find to tell me her birth stories.  I wanted to hear what birth is really like, not the hypothetical situations you read about in pregnancy books or learn about in prenatal class.  Most media can only make generalizations, since every birth experience is different.  I wanted true stories, including brutal details where applicable (even the “horror stories”) because I wanted to know what the possibilities were.  Whatever my birth experience would be – and I knew it was unlikely to follow my “birth plan” – I wanted to have some genuine perspective.

I was thrilled that so many moms were willing to share with me, and it was clear what an immediate bond there is among mothers when they get talking about birthing experiences. What I realized most was that birth stories are as incredible, beautiful, and unique as the women who went through them.

So, I created this blog to be filled with birth stories, ones that get into the nitty-gritty, so that moms-to-be can read about what it’s really like, and other moms can know how much they have in common.

Once I began petitioning my mom friends for their stories, I realized that this project is actually much more than that. Many moms-to-be want to know about other mothers’ experiences – the whole truth; many don’t want to be told, “You’ll be fine,” or “You don’t want to hear about that!” Everyone knows birth is not a walk in the park – so what is it, in reality?

Just as importantly, I’ve seen that moms have a need to tell their stories. These are our “war stories”: for many of us, the toughest, most intense adventures we will ever go through, ones that leave us scarred and different, but stronger and deeper. We should be, and are, proud of what we did and endured to get our babies into our arms.

My hope is that, beyond birthing, we will be a community that can share other experiences as well. Like birth, adoption is an amazing, difficult, emotional process with unique challenges. Families that go through fertility treatments or missed pregnancies deal with pain that many people are hesitant to talk about. But really, most of us find that when we share our stories, particularly the hardest ones, we find comfort in each other, and we learn a lot. I dearly hope that MotherGather can be that kind of community.

For now, let me say this: if you are looking for pretty stories, look elsewhere.  If you want someone to tell you that your birthing experience is likely to go exactly according to your birth plan, this isn’t the place.  If you don’t like graphic descriptions or terminology, if you don’t want to hear that it’s hard, you’d best move along.

(This is not to scare you, of course – many of the stories here are of births that went beautifully, even though they were hard. If you’d like to focus on those, click on the “positive” tag.)

If you want to read real birth and baby stories from real women, ones that don’t tiptoe around the pain or the work or the indelicate words, you’ve come to the right place.  If you’ve come here to share the mother-bond, the unforgettable experiences and emotions that tie mothers together all over the world… well, that is what MotherGather is designed to be.

Again, thank you for coming – and I hope you’ll keep reading!



It is with great joy we welcome to this world Our Daughter

Posted By on February 8, 2013

I guess the best place to start is the day of your birth.  I wish I remembered more, but somehow I have been left with a hazy memory, a cloudy smear of the day that forever changed my life. 

I knew you would be born this day, November 7th 2012.  It was a Wednesday, exactly one week before your due date.  I don’t think you were ready to come into this world yet, but we did what we had to do to ensure your safe arrival.  You were a breech baby, stubborn, with your own plans.  How could I expect anything but?!  You are a human being, we all have our own ideas, our own plans, our own comfort zones.. Yours was “breech”. Period.  The doctor tried to externally turn you.  You weren’t having it.  I knew you would not simply “turn” for anyone.  I knew you would protest.  But I had to know we tried everything.

I don’t regret going the route of a cesarean, I don’t regret opting out of the “trial” vaginal delivery that the doctors offered us.  But I do grieve for what I missed, that rite of passage into womanhood, the delivery of my baby into this world.

I grieve over the fact that I never experienced contractions or pushing, I never endured the pain that I had spent months mentally and emotionally preparing myself for.

But, I went with my gut.  Something I think every mother knows she must listen to.  Something many of us feel…  gut instinct.  And when we trust it and listen to it, things usually turn out.

It was the second most terrifying experience of my life.  I can’t lie.  I have to face it. I remember going into that operating room and instantly crying.  For some reason, the doctor asked my why I was crying.  I was appalled at the fact he didn’t know.  How could he not know that I was devastated?  Afraid.  Defeated.  Alone in a room full of masked people, all dressed the same, none of whom I knew.  Who were all these people?!

The OBGYN came in.  My midwife came in.  They proceeded to attempt the ECV (turning you).  Within a minute, the screen went over my face, Daddy came in, and they started the cesarean.

I was still so scared.  Daddy kept telling me to breathe.  I remember our midwives kind eyes, full of sympathy and hope.  Then suddenly I heard something.  I didn’t even know I was open, that you were pulled out of me.  It was 2:06 p.m., November 7, when you were born.

They whisked you away to the corner, surrounded by doctors and Daddy.  What was going on?  Why was this person sitting beside me, asking me if I had had any testing or amniocentesis??  Down syndrome?  What were they talking about?  I stared blankly at the ceiling.  I met you briefly.  Once again you were gone.

I am alone in the recovery room.  Feeling is coming back to my legs, I’m trying so hard to move my feet.  Why is this so difficult?  Why am I alone?  Where is my Baby?  And what is going on?

Your birth was nothing like I had imagined or hoped for.  It was nothing like what we planned on.  It was everything I feared.  It was everything I knew nothing about.  I felt alone, blank, confused, sad.

When I finally got a room and got to hold you, it was 5 hours later.  You were tiny and sleeping.  It’s hard looking back.  Because I don’t recall being in all the pictures I see.  How did I get in these scenes?  When did they happen?  I do remember the doctors and nurses coming in to check your oxygen levels.  Putting you in some giant, foreign bed, and once again taking you away.  This time you would not be coming back.

You were taken to the NICU.   They would be hooking you up to monitors.  Taking blood from your tiny heels.  Tube-feeding you.  Supplementing you.  I felt so powerless and out of control.  I hadn’t felt so terrible in many years.  It was a dark place to visit and I never want to go there again.

I remember touching you, looking at your precious face.  Does she look like she has Down syndrome?  Is it my fault?  What does this mean for our future?  Is Daddy going to hate me?  Is he going to love us?

I now know that all my fears were unnecessary.  Your Daddy is amazing.  Our future is bright.  And although I still have many fears and tears, I love you.  Down syndrome and all.

Life has been preparing me for you.

All the work with special needs children.  The still birth of my son (your brother in heaven).  The love of your father.  It has all been the universe readying me for your arrival.  Fate, well, this is fate.

You would stay in the NICU for 2.5 weeks.  Two-and-a-half scary, exhausting weeks.  But we made it.  You came home November 25th, 2012.


Written and shared by Brandy Kowal, Ontario, Canada; originally published at autumnthroughtheseasons, where you can read more about baby Autumn and her family’s journey.


My Infertility Story

Posted By on May 15, 2012

We started trying to have a baby in October 2003. By July 2004, my doctor was concerned and sent us for testing at a reproductive endocrinologist (RE). The appointment was on our wedding anniversary.

“You will never have a child naturally.”

“There is a 99.99999% chance that you will never conceive a child on your own.”

Happy anniversary! Needless to say, the celebratory dinner later that night was less than enthusiastic.

The RE recommended IVF with ICSI as the only option. Typical IVF, when they put the egg and the sperm in the dish together and leave it up to chance, wouldn’t work. Instead, they would take the egg from me, actually insert J’s sperm into it, and then put everything back in me and hope for the best. All this cost enough to pay for the doctor to buy a new car. Insurance was covering squat. But they would cover my depression medication.

J waffled on whether or not he wanted to do it. He wanted children; he just didn’t want a litter of children.

Then there was the problem of affording the IVF. Of course they had financing programs, but was that the way we wanted to bring in another life? Under a pile of bills? It was a mess. So when we started undergoing all the testing, we knew we had to tell our families. His parents were supportive; my mother sucked (typical) and my dad was MIA (also, typical at the time but now, thankfully, things are very much different).

At 23, I was basically told I had three choices: spend a load of money, adopt, or live child-free.

J, after an unsuccessful surgery on his part, wanted to choose child-free. I wanted nothing more than to be a mommy to a child – any child. But I couldn’t force him to give me his sperm and $20,000.

For four years, I watched painfully as the people around me got pregnant and had babies. I avoided family functions at times because it was just too, too painful. I wanted a baby.

I tried to convince myself that I didn’t want one. It didn’t work.

In November 2007, I had surgery for endometriosis, a horrible, painful, bullshit disease that makes your uterine lining grow outside your uterus. Fun stuff.

In January 2008, we moved to Knoxville, Tennessee to spread our wings. My job had a need for my special gifts: organization and a killer sense of humor. You couldn’t do my job without one.

In May, I found out I was pregnant. We didn’t tell anyone because we were terrified. A week later, we miscarried.

The good that came of it was that J decided he wanted a baby. So my new doctor recommended a new RE. She thought that maybe we could get pregnant with Intrauterine Insemination (IUI), which was a fraction of the cost of the IVF with ICSI. Incredibly, we had enough money in savings to do it the next cycle.

The first month, even on Clomid, my ovaries did not produce enough viable eggs to do the insemination. She recommended that we wait until the following month to try when I had enough eggs to really give it a go. “But have sex,” she said.

The next month was November 2008. We did the cycle, the shots in December, and the insemination in a very cold room two weeks before Christmas. Three days before Christmas, we found out the cycle failed.

I couldn’t do anything but cry.

The doctor recommended having surgery to clear the endometriosis again. I’d only been at the Knoxville location for a year and didn’t want to take the time off. So we put it on the back burner: I started working out, teaching belly dancing. J started running.

In late March, I had the worst stomach flu ever. It was awful. I puked all the time – I couldn’t even brush my teeth.

A friend asked if I was pregnant. I scoffed at her: “Are you crazy? Do you have any idea what you’re suggesting?” On April 4, 2009, I took the first of twenty pregnancy tests. All of them were positive. I cried. And cried. And cried.

I called my doctor and demanded progesterone supplements and an immediate ultrasound – both of which I got. My Monster was in a perfect position in her little sack in my womb. I just needed to keep her there. My husband immediately put the kibosh on the belly dancing for fear I would shake the little pea loose. Sex was put on hold for the same reason.

I was S.I.C.K. The whole freakin’ nine months. But I was carrying a baby.

The first time I felt the baby move, I cried. It was like a fluttering across my whole stomach. And then it got stronger and stronger.

I had two baby showers – one in Alabama and one in Knoxville. I had great family and friends. I bought the stroller/car seat and the crib. Most everything else was bought for us.

I was expecting a whopper of a baby girl.

October came and J’s grandfather died. I couldn’t travel to the funeral for a man who had been like a interim father to me, which hurt. I tried to talk my doctor into it but since I was swelling and having contractions, she said no. I still miss Grandpa every day. I wish so badly that he could have met the Monster because he would have LOVED her.

In December, things got more and more intense. I went into labor December 7, around 11:30 PM, but contractions weren’t strong or close together – just enough to keep me up that night.

J drove me to the doctor’s office the next day because we were pretty sure they were going to keep me. Nope. They sent me to the hospital, where they promptly sent me home. I know I sounded like a crazy person when I called the doctor’s office in terrible pain. They scheduled me for an induction the next morning.

That night, I went back to the hospital; they admitted me and gave me some blessed medication that allowed me to relax and sleep. I sent J home to sleep in the bed before all the action started. He would come back at 5:30 the next morning because they were starting the Pitocin (to induce stronger contractions) at 6AM.

At 2:30, I woke up and called the nurse. When she walked in I apologized because, in my sleep, I had peed all over the bed.

My water had broken. I was having back labor. It was BAD.

I didn’t get the epidural until 5AM. I think I proposed to that man. I know I paid a fortune for it, even with insurance. Worth every penny.

J showed up on time, I told him what had happened and his eyes got really big.

His family arrived from Alabama around 7.

At about 9, I remember telling J that I needed to push. He said, “You are not doing any of that until the doctor gets here and they say it is okay.” So I sent him to find the nurse.

She said it was, indeed, time to push.

I pushed for 45 minutes and heard the cry: she was out. My Monster was out. J grabbed my head, kissed me and yelled “You did it!”

That is one of my most favorite memories.

jennifer and family

7 lbs, 9 oz., 19.5 inches long.

Perfect in every single way.

My baby was born. After all my struggles, all my sorrows, my baby was born. I have a baby girl.

jennifer's little girl

She’s almost two now – so rotten that you can just smell her. She’s prissy and sassy and all the things that little girls should be.

She’s a Mommy’s girl. I love her – I am so thankful for her; so thankful that I am her Mommy, so thankful that I have my daughter and my J.

mommy's girl


Shared by Jennifer Forsman, U.S.A. Originally published on Band Back Together (all links courtesy of BBT); used with permission.

Always the Over-Achiever – Getting all the Gold Stars… on paper

Posted By on April 19, 2012

Naomi’s Birthing Story

I’ve been an over-achiever for as long as I can remember, and I approached pregnancy in the same vein. I did everything I could to ensure a smooth and healthy pregnancy, with the expectation that a smooth and healthy delivery would naturally follow. And it did – but not exactly the way I expected.

The Birth Plan

  • Smooth and glowing pregnancy
  • Home delivery with midwives
  • Natural water birth – no drugs
  • Healthy baby weighing no more than 8 pounds
  • Latent labour (approx. 8 hours of which I could sleep through), active labour approx. 4 hours (where I would do my positions on the ball and breathing exercises), and transitional labour (where I would feel little pain because of the calm-inducing effects of the water, my visualizations, and my super pain tolerance)
  • Delivery in water tub where the baby would slip out of me after a couple pushes and peacefully transition into the world – and I wouldn’t tear, as I’ve faithfully done my Kegels and because I was in the water
  • After all was said and done, I would indulge in a super-carb-filled meal to replenish my energy (something like pasta or a roast)

The Birth Reality

  • I did have a natural birth, but let me tell you that if my midwife had had drugs on her, I would have demanded she inject me NOW
  • Latent labour – was that an urban myth?
  • I used the tub to labour in, but ultimately delivered outside of the tub, on my back, with my legs in the air (a position I toted during my pregnancy as unnatural, and used more for medical convenience, not for the mother’s)
  • I had to get 4 stitches because apparently I am an over-achieving pusher
  • After I delivered, I ate a banana and half a container of yogurt because I HAD to, not because I wanted to

During the first week after my delivery, I think I actually suffered from some post-traumatic stress. I would think back to the labour and shudder at the memory of the pain. I think I had set up some pretty high expectations for a quick and easy labour and delivery due to the following premise:

A smooth pregnancy will lead to a smooth labour and delivery. (more…)

Birth Story of Jennifer Lieselotte Judith Tarn Archbold

Posted By on February 8, 2012

My pregnancy with Jennifer had been by far the easiest of the three pregnancies I had. I had no morning sickness at all with her. Half the time I didn’t feel pregnant at all. I worked in a Swine Nutrition lab at the time, so some of my duties had to be altered, so I wouldn’t be exposed to dangerous chemicals. I also had a small business as a lactation consultant.

I was very healthy through the whole pregnancy. I continued to bicycle to work until 25 weeks. My blood pressure was always really low, and I had no issues with diabetes.

I had arranged things with the lab so that I would work until 38 weeks (November 25th) and take 2 weeks’ vacation before starting my maternity leave. I took the bus to and from work right up until the last day. My labmates had a small pizza party for my last day and they gave me a gift card and some homemade muffins.

On Saturday we made a trip out to Ikea to buy the crib mattress and the bug lamp for over the change table. On Sunday we tidied a bit around the house, and I took the kids to swimming lessons that evening. I had planned on keeping the car on Monday to do the grocery shopping and get some cleaning-up done in the house in preparation for the baby.

At about 1:30 on Monday morning, I woke up in a big puddle. At first I wondered if I had wet the bed, and then as I woke up further, I realised that my water had broken. I woke up Tyler to get him to help me change the sheets and set the bed up for the birth. I had no contractions. We called the midwife and Nadine asked if the fluid was clear (it was) and if I was having contractions (I wasn’t). I had a regularly-scheduled 38-week appointment for 11:30 that morning. Nadine said that if I didn’t have any contractions by then to just go the clinic for the appointment.

Tyler went back to bed, but I couldn’t sleep, so I texted my friend in Australia to tell her what happened. We ended up chatting by facetime for a few minutes. I went back to bed at about 3:00 a.m.

In the morning I still had no contractions, so we sent Jackson and Thomas off to school. I called my parents to give them a heads-up, and intended to drive Tyler to work so I would have the car for the midwife appointment. After a minute I got nervous that if my labour started I wouldn’t be able to drive back to get him, so I called my parents to come down so they could take me to the appointment. Tyler went off to work. (more…)

Tasha’s Story: The Birth of Zack

Posted By on January 4, 2012

Dear Zack,

Here is the story of your birth.

Peter (Daddy) and Tasha (Mommy) were interested in having a baby, but Mommy lost her period for a year due to a medication she was on, so she was really worried about infertility – she didn’t know what had happened at first. They kept waiting for it come back but it never did – or so it seemed.

Well, for their summer vacation in 2008, they went to High Sierra, a music festival in San Francisco. Four days before the vacation, Mommy started to get sick every morning, and throughout the vacation, she had bad burpsies and sicky times very often. She could not figure out what was wrong, and she had not been drinking in the least!

Then when she returned home she was sick at work for two days, then decided to call the doctor and ask him what was wrong – she thought maybe she had stomach cancer. The doctor agreed to see her that evening so she went in and explained what she had been feeling. He said “Well, let’s try a pregnancy test.” Mommy thought that was funny, since she still had no period, so did not realize she might still get pregnant.

Well, he came back and said “You are very pregnant!” She was overjoyed since she had wanted a baby for some time and was very worried about the possibility that she might not be able to conceive. Funny thing was, Daddy had said before she left for her appointment that he thought she was probably pregnant.

So then Mommy went through about 8 months of sicky and nausea and burpsies, but the reward at the end was worth every second.

In September, when Mommy was about 5 months pregnant, a band that Mommy and Daddy really liked who had gone into retirement, Phish, decided to make a comeback. They announced one series of shows – three nights in Hampton, Virginia. The tickets were impossible to get, but in January a friend they had traveled with, Tara, decided to ask Mommy if she would mind if Daddy was offered an extra ticket she had. (more…)

Lachlan’s birth – January 2000

Posted By on September 14, 2011

It was January, 5 days before my due date, when it all started, and I was not really sure
what was going on. Remembering the midwife’s message of “it can take a long time”
we thought we would head out and go shopping… let nature take its course… that
way I could keep moving and distract myself from the cramps. It was a great idea
and the afternoon progressed with some fun, laughs and the occasional need to stop
and sit down!

When we got home, I cooked dinner, sitting down on a chair for each contraction,
because it felt best for me to sit on a hard surface with my legs at a 90-degree angle.
Strange how these things work! I finally called the midwife, and said, “I’m feeling
these contractions but I don’t know for sure if it’s early labour.” She reassured me
that I was likely in very early labour and to just keep going and call her later.

It was a bittersweet evening. The day I had been waiting for was here, but I was
annoyed. I’d planned to go for the best cheesecake in town that week with three of
the women from my pre-natal class. Food, fun friends, what could be better. Now I
was the first one to go into labour, and it didn’t look like I’d be able to keep that date
– even though REALLY wanted to. Looking back… I should have gone.

The midwife said to take a warm bath, along with some pain relief, and go to bed.
The pain went away partially, although all night I was waking up every half-hour or
so with a strong contraction.

The next day, I was pretty sure the baby was coming soon. My husband stayed home
with me. I went about my day, having contractions about 5 minutes apart, for about
30 seconds each. It was uncomfortable but bearable and didn’t seem to really be
so bad. Of course I kept asking myself when it was going to progress… let’s get this
show on the road! (more…)

Di’s Second Birth – July 2011

Posted By on September 14, 2011

This is the story of the stillbirth of my son, Sebastian. It was a memorable experience, if not a happy one. I have written it without really softening the edges.

When Sebastian was born, we already knew he wasn’t alive. Just before noon on July 8th, we found out the results of that morning’s ultrasound, which showed that our son had died unexpectedly earlier that day. He was at almost 35 weeks gestation.

The only warning had been two days before, at an extra ultrasound to follow up on an echogenic bowel found at 20 weeks. This test showed that Sebastian was measuring much smaller than he should have been, and that there was zero amniotic fluid, even though blood flow was fine, and the baby seemed normal-size on palpation. We knew he was breech, but not in danger at that point. We then had a non-stress test at the hospital, which showed that he was not in distress. The evidence, taken all together, didn’t make sense.

And then his heartbeat was gone.

We were still in shock as the doctor and midwives explained our next steps to us. We would be given a prescription to begin induction, doses to be taken twelve hours apart, and started whenever I was ready. The pharmacist said to take one dose before bed and the next one in the morning… and that’s what I did, because I didn’t know how else to know I was ready. Finding out your baby is dead makes you afraid to keep him inside, but also unwilling to let him go. We had started to feel the grief, but beyond that, we hadn’t yet started to process anything. (more…)

Tracy’s Birth Story

Posted By on November 25, 2010

I didn’t really have concrete expectations before I gave birth. My idea of what a birth would be like was glorified. As a nurse, I had seen two births that were not at all scary: one was a smooth birth with epidural, and it looked all beautiful and happy, just like you would hope it would be; the other was a C-section, so the mother was completely numb and I didn’t see any of the labour process. I had heard one bad story involving post-traumatic stress due to the level of pain… I saw the aftermath, and that scared me.

My due date was January 19th. On January 9th, a Saturday, I was woken up at 2 a.m. with what felt like period cramping. I wasn’t sure if it was labour or not, but it stopped after I put a warm pack on my stomach.

The cramping started again on Wednesday morning around 7 a.m., suddenly enough to wake me up. I had felt totally normal on Tuesday night, and my husband and I had even gone out of town for dinner with his parents – no sign that I would be going into labour the next day. It was basically the same thing, like period cramping but more widespread, back and front and even in the hips. We got up, called our parents to let them know what was happening, and I managed a breakfast of eggs and orange juice to keep my strength up.

Contractions were progressing: they would come every 10 minutes, then every 7, every 5, then back to 7 minutes. I was breathing through them, leaning on the kitchen counter, rocking back and forth – I tried using the birthing ball but it didn’t help as much.

We called the midwife around 11:30 a.m., and she said to take a shower, take a walk. I took shower, but I didn’t get out the door for the walk, because the labour seemed to be progressing too quickly to manage that. The midwife arrived around 12 or 12:30, and contractions were every 3 minutes by then. I felt pretty good, a bit nervous; the pain was bearable, I was still dealing with it when she got there, but it was definitely getting more intense. The midwife checked me and I was 3 cm. dilated.

What I didn’t know at that point was that Greg had called his mom, and said I was dealing pretty well, she had said, “Don’t tell her this, but it will get much worse.” Good thing he didn’t tell me that until after.

My midwife was helping me upstairs in the bedroom. I would lie on my side, and she would put pressure on my hips with each contraction, or sometimes I would stand and she would press to open up the hip bones; this helped a lot with the pain. She taught Greg to do it, which was even better since he was stronger.

Around 1 o’clock, contractions were lasting 45 seconds to a minute – though I was not really paying attention, thinking “Just get me through” for each one). I said “Are you going to check me?” and the midwife said “No, first-time moms take a while. We don’t check every 15 minutes because that would be silly. We check every 2 hours.” (more…)

The Birth of Athena, August 2009

Posted By on September 12, 2010

A Perfect Birth

As Remembered by the Doula

Tania was referred to me in her last month of pregnancy. She felt that, had she received the right kind of support for her first delivery, it may have gone differently and less traumatically. After 3 prenatal visits and a refreshed course, Tania and Lorin were prepared for the birth of their second child.

Tania and Lorin called me (Heather, the doula) at 6:10 am on Aug 23 2009 with contractions about 5 minutes apart. After asking a few questions I suggested that they call the hospital and then let me know what they were told. Tania called back around 7:00 and said that they were told that they should come in but not to rush. I arrived at the house at 7:45am and found that Tania was having good contractions at about 3-4 minutes apart, was coping well while sitting on the ball but was feeling nauseous. After a few bouts of vomiting Tania decided that she would like to go to the hospital, so we packed up and left.

We arrived at the hospital at 9:15am, Tania was still vomiting but was already 4cm dilated. Lorin started counting out the contractions for Tania, letting her know when the contraction was half-over (30 seconds). In triage the nurse told her that hydration was not going to be a problem because she would likely have the baby within 2 hours. We all got a chuckle out of that. Within 15 minutes Tania was off the monitor and in her room.

Dr. S came in and gave a fairly negative speech about how the body tightens up beyond your control when you are in labour and that epidurals usually help. He said that Tania should be flexible in her desire not to have an epidural if possible.

At 10:15am Tania was still interested in being up and mobile but was definitely feeling the contractions more strongly, so she decided that the tub might be worth a try. What a great relief! Lorin spent most of the time showering her belly while counting out the contractions (15…30…45). Tania kept saying how great the tub was and seemed so surprised that more people weren’t made aware of this option. After a little over an hour, Tania started feeling a bit lightheaded and decided to get out. (more…)

Births of Three Daughters

Posted By on September 8, 2010

Erica’s Birth, July 1985

Hard to believe it was 25 years ago that my first daughter was born. Some memories will come and go, others fade with time, but birth memories stay with you forever!

Pregnancy was always something I dreamed of and looked forward to, even as a little girl. And let me be clear, I really do mean pregnancy. Don’t get me wrong. I adore kids, the younger the better, but I always imagined that my true state of being is pregnant. My first birth story is a textbook one. It amazes me that we all read countless books on pregnancy and birth, and yet no one really seems to come close to that textbook scenario. Well, that is, until it was my turn. (more…)