Our Monty was born into this world at 5:00 am January 10, 2001, in our home in North Carolina. He is the most precious thing I have ever seen in my life.

The night of January 9, I taught my first evening class at our local Community College, and began to have pretty heavy contractions on the drive home. About 8:30, I started timing them while I drove, and discovered that they were consistently 5 minutes apart.

When I first got home, Carey and I were a little skeptical that this was for real, because I had had some pretty serious frequent contractions the two nights before, and both times they tapered off. So we decided to go to the grocery store and pick up some healthy snacks in case we were really going into labor, and also to see if the contractions continued. They did. They were too intense to ignore, so I spent one contraction staring at a shelf full of band-aids pretending I couldn't decide which brand to buy! We called our midwife, an hour or so after getting back from the store, when I began having a hard time coping, and even then we debated whether she should come on out or wait a little while. We decided she should probably go ahead and come, and we would get the birthing tub ready.

At this point, the contractions were like really heavy menstrual cramps, and although they were difficult I was able to cope by repeating the words, "Open, open, open" to myself while Carey stroked my back and sides. I found that being on my hands and knees was the easiest position for coping, and the image of the contractions opening my cervix helped to remind me that this was productive work and not just pain.

Also, although the contractions were generally over a minute long, I had good long breaks (about 5 minutes) between, so it was very manageable.

When our midwife arrived, Carey helped her bring her things in, and while they were out, I had a really heavy contraction that I had a really hard time relaxing through, and the first one in which I began to make noise--there was plenty more of that to come! This contraction made me nauseous and I was leaning over a pail considering throwing up when she walked in.

However, I still had more rest breaks to come at this point, and we discussed whether this was for real or whether we would end up just having to send the midwife home. Unfortunately, she had to go home anyway and come back, because she had left her oxygen hose. Her assistant arrived in the mean time, and came in to sit with me briefly. I wanted to get in the tub, but I didn't know the assistant very well, and at first thought I would get in in my nightgown. On second thought, however, I decided to ask her if she would mind if I took it off. That was the last time I was worried about anyone seeing me naked!

While I was in the tub, the contractions continued to get heavier, and ultimately while the water helped some, I decided it wasn't worth the sacrifice of limited movement--getting in and out of the tub was an ordeal because I would get very cold, and also had to climb over the edges. And I was no longer getting more than a few moments between contractions.

At some point in this, someone must have called our friend and Bradley instructor whom we had asked to attend. However, I was now fairly out of it in terms of awareness of what was going on around me. The contractions were very strong and with very small breaks between.

It was quite late at night now, and I was extremely tired. Between contractions all I wanted was a little rest, but I was afraid to lie down because the contractions hurt so much more when lying down. I spent most of the labor on my hands and knees and hung my head or rested it on a pile of pillows between contractions. However, I did make one last attempt at getting a little nap, but was surprised out of it by the heaviest contraction yet--and a surprise I wasn't prepared for.

What no one told me, and I had not read anywhere despite all the research and reading I had done, is about the "pop." I woke out of my last nap with a really mean contraction, and rolled immediately onto my hands and knees. As soon as I was up I heard and felt an enormous pop in my abdomen, like something in there had seriously broken. Well, it was my water--but I didn't know that and it scared the heck out of me, which of course made the contraction that much harder to handle. I was unable to communicate at all through this contraction and therefore unable to ask about the pop, and the water did not immediately pour out as I would have expected. I panicked and made a lot of noise. When it was over, I threw up into the pail and then was able to ask. I was the only one surprised by the pop!

From here there were almost no more breaks, and the contractions were long and extremely difficult. I remember the midwife repeating, "Let them work," and Carey reminding me to relax and trying to talk me through some visualization. Somehow, I had had this idea that I would actually be able to concentrate on anything during labor--how wrong I was! It was so different from this point on from how I had expected. It was much worse!

This lasted probably from about midnight until about 4 am--though I was far from watching the clock. I remember saying at one point that I didn't think I could do this, and our midwife saying in her sweet, quiet voice, "But you are, Heather, you are doing it!"

Most of the labor I spent on my hands and knees, to everyone's amazement as I was shaking quite a bit and everyone tried to help me find a more easily sustainable position, but everything else just made the pain worse.

Perhaps the worst thing during this stage was when our midwife wanted to check the fetal heart tones. We had requested that she use only the fetoscope during labor if possible, and this required me to lie down on my side and be very quiet for at least a minute--and the breaks between contractions were hardly that long. During the pushing stage we did end up using a doptone once because there was just no way I was going to lie down long enough to use the fetoscope.

Just before I began pushing, our midwife did an internal exam (the first and last of my entire pregnancy), and was extremely surprised to find the baby's head already well into the birth canal and to find that the cervix was, well, nowhere to be found. I heard a mad scramble to get things ready, people talking about the microwave, and clothes and things, and wondered what it was about. Later Carey told me it was because they were expecting the baby to arrive very soon, and weren't prepared because I had dilated and pushed him down so quickly. Our midwife told me I could push whenever I was ready. Until then, I hadn't really had an urge to push, but as soon as I heard that it started to come on.

Pushing lasted 45 minutes and it was far easier to manage than the previous stage. In fact, I remember asking when I was going to get a break for rest, and Jill saying that I would get longer breaks during pushing. She was right, but I didn't really take much advantage of them.

I stood facing the bed for all but maybe the last 5 minutes of pushing, half squatting when I had to push, then leaning forward and putting my head on pillows between contractions at first. My friend and Carey were at my head, and she kept telling me "not much longer now!" Both of them were holding my hands, and I would squeeze hard during contractions, and PUSH. I had been making a lot of noise through contractions up to this point, moaning, grunting, occasionally squealing (Carey would tell me to keep it low and to relax) or crying; but once I started pushing, I started ROARING. I yelled so much my throat was sore for two days afterward. Carey later said he was afraid the neighbors across the street were going to hear us and think he was murdering me. I just remember the midwife, her assistant and my friend remarking about the birth roar, and I liked that; so every time I would push, I would think "birth roar" in my head and just let her rip.

At some point during pushing, they asked if they could use the doptone to listen for the heartbeat, because it seemed unlikely that I was going to relax and lie down for them to listen long enough with the fetoscope. At this point, I was beyond making decisions and agreed, though I would have agreed anyway. Someone placed something low on my abdomen, and the room was filled with a "swish, swish, swish" sound, loud and strong and fast. I was amazed and filled with wonder at my first hearing of my baby's heart.

The pushing only lasted about 45 minutes, and our midwife had to ask me to slow down a couple of times. She also tried to convince me to try a different position, because after more than half an hour of standing and half-squatting to push, my legs were shaking uncontrollably, and I think she was worried they would give out. They brought the birth stool and I tried to sit in it, but immediately stood up and turned back around--it did NOT feel good. Finally, they got me to kneel against the bed with a pillow under my knees.

All during the pushing, all the women kept remarking how strong I was. I guess all those years of bad menstrual cramps, and then the months of braxton-hicks and the days of practice labor really paid off!

Toward the end of pushing, even before coming down into the kneel, I stopped waiting for a contraction to push--I just kept on pushing through my breaks, because I could feel Monty's head between my legs and it hurt so much the breaks weren't worth taking. To this point, I had breathed (and roared) through every contraction, but now our midwife suggested that I hold my breath while pushing to get more out of the pushes. Also during this time, they convinced me to touch Monty's head as it crowned. It felt very strange--wet and membranous, like a water balloon. I touched it again when it was almost out and it felt more like a baby's head.

When Monty started to crown, it occurred to me to ask Carey if he was going to catch the baby as we had planned. He said yes, and our midwife encouraged him to come on down to the floor. My friend stayed at my head and I was very conscious of holding her hand and squeezing it really hard while I roared.

Soon after I stopped waiting for breaks and started holding my breath to push, Monty's head came out and his shoulders soon followed. There was no cord around his neck, but he didn't slide the rest of the way immediately after his shoulders came out--it took about two more pushes.

During the last push, I looked down between my legs and saw him slide out. Almost immediately I heard a cry and I said, "That's my baby crying!" Carey announced, "It's a boy!" I remember thinking, "I was right all along!" They helped me get up and sit on the bed, and handed me my son.

I didn't pay much attention to the rest of the events, as my eyes and heart were glued on the precious being in my arms. However, I do remember that the cord had stopped pulsing even by the time they stopped to look at it, and everyone was amazed. Carey cut the cord, while I gazed in amazement at the perfect child in my arms. Carey says his head was very pointed when he first came out, but in the few moments it took me to get in a position where I could hold him, he had already returned to a normal shape, and looked like a perfect little baby.

Once the cord was cut, or maybe before (I don't recall the chronology of this part), the focus was on delivering the placenta. I had to be reminded to push through the remaining contractions, and it took a while for the placenta to detach and come out, but when it did it was in tact and perfect. Apparently, judging from the amniotic sac, the placenta had been fairly low-lying, and that's why I had so much bloody show the two days before the birth. I'm glad we didn't know this, as it probably would have caused needless worry.

The water, apparently, had no meconium in it, and Monty's breathing was strong and clear immediately when he was born. He is amazingly strong, and everyone just cooed over how pink and strong and healthy he was. My friend kept saying how perfect he was, and I have to say I agree.

After a little while, we weighed him and put clean, dry clothes on him, and then his dad got to hold him while my friend and our midwife helped me get cleaned up. The rest of the morning was a blur of activity as we tried to establish nursing (no luck until later that night), and our midwife examined me for tears (two little ones--one toward the front, one toward the back, probably because I wasn't resting between contractions and moved him through too quickly) and gave me postpartum care instructions. Our friend'd husband dropped by to bring more Chux pads (we used up all of ours), and came in to congratulate us. Our midwife's daughter, who had been in the other room caring for her infant brother, came in to see the baby, and was amazed at how small he was.

Our midwife, her assistant and our friend cleaned everything up, and started the laundry, and then finally everyone left and we were alone together as a family--a quickly asleep family!