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January 12, 2011

Birth Days

Margaret Maron

Images   In a recent NYT magazine article, Melanie Thernstrom wrote about how she and her husband used two surrogates to give birth to a boy and a girl born five days apart.  (Meet the Twiblings )  Even though the babies share the same egg and sperm donors, they did not share the same womb, so the Thernstroms call them “twiblings.”

Two North Carolina babies also have a birth story that they’re probably going to still be telling ninety years from now.  In 2010, Ashton Parker Alston was born at Duke Hospital in Durham.  His sister Alisha Rae was born in the same hospital in 2011.

“What’s so odd about that?” do I hear you ask?  “Lots of siblings are born less than a year apart and in the same hospital.” DownloadedFile

Officially they are a year apart, in reality they are twins.  Ashton was born on 31 December at 11:58 pm.  Alisha got here two minutes later at the stroke of midnight, 1 January 2011.  Ashton was an immediate 2010 tax deduction for his parents.  Not Alisha.  Imagine all the questions and confusion this is going to bring them over the years.

Birth stories are often fascinating. We hear of babies being born in the back of cabs and police cars, on trains, buses and ferry boats.  And yes, even in a stable.

558815291_2a675686c6 Babies come when they’re good and ready, whether it’s in the middle of a snowstorm, a hurricane, or a flood.  And they can refuse to be born until they’ve made their pregnant moms as miserable as possible.  Till the last August of her life, no matter how high the temperature soared, my mother was sure to tell me that it was nothing  — nothing— like the hellish August of my birth.  “You were supposed to be born around the 10th.  Instead, you didn’t budge until the 25th.  And,” she would continue, still aggrieved by the injustice of it, “the heat wave broke the very next day.”

The closest I myself came to being involved in a dramatic birth was when we were driving  to the hospital in a VW Beetle.  Our baby decided to come two weeks early and my husband hadn’t done a dry run to the hospital because he blithely assumed that Midwood Hospital was on Midwood Street. 

It wasn’t. 

Did he stop and ask directions? Images_2

What do you think?  Happily, he did manage to fumble into it about 45 minutes before our son arrived so that we didn’t have to do the backseat-of-a-VW scenario.

What about you?  Did you or one of your children make a dramatic entrance?





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My mom always said that by her 4th baby (me) we just kind of fell out . . . She also tells a story about her and the Dr. sharing cigarettes while she nursed me for the first time and they waited for the afterbirth. Can you imagine that today - smoking in a delivery room!

When she was in the labour room with my younger brother, she kept telling the nurse that he was on his way and the nurse said, no he isn't and walked away. My mom delivered my brother by herself and had to take the cord off from around his neck or he wouldn't have made it. The nurse was very surprised when she came back to my mom with a baby already there.

My mother used to say that first babies can come at any time...all the rest take 9 months.

But with my first, I woke up my husband at the time to tell him that contractions were 3 minutes apart and his response was "are you sure you want to go through with this?"

The most drama, I think, was when I was born. My father really wanted a boy after three girls, and as they wheeled my mother into the delivery room, the last thing he said to her was, "If it's a girl, we will be trying for another." Nice.

And then he got me.

My brother was born in March of 1993 in North Carolina during the blizzard. Living in the north now, I don't remember it actually being a blizzard but my dad had to drive to the hospital on his birthday on solid ice so that my little brother could be born! Now we call him Bliz and me Liz (except I hate being Liz...)

I nearly got to deliver my first. Back in the Dark Ages (1976) fathers in the delivery room were a novelty which required graduating from a class for admittance. I was in the hall putting on my gown and mask when I heard the nurses in the delivery room whispering. “Where’s the father?”

As I was being hustled into the delivery room I was told to tell my wife not to push. Then it was me and Jan. Alone. At this point in the drama, not pushing was really not an option nor even a subject for discussion. A few minutes later, a man I had never seen before entered the room. Since I had dated my wife’s OB/GYN’s daughter in high school I knew this couldn’t be right.

It was bit of blur after that but the way I remember the conversation: “Hello, I’m Dr. Goldberg. Can I have a gown please? I’m the anesthesiologist from the other delivery room. May I have a mask please? Your doctor is on his way and should be here momentarily. May I have gloves please? It’s a girl.”

Dr. Youkilis (grandfather to Kevin for all of you Red Sox fans) strolled in and gave Carrie a perfect score – of course – on her APGAR and gave me CPR.

On the close birth thingy. From June 9th – 18th my other daughter’s three oldest kids will be 8-7-6.

I love these stories! Great blog, Margaret!

My mother tells me (frequently, still) that she was in labor with me for 48 hours while my father campaigned for the office of district attorney in our small county. He came to the hospital on election day to see me after I was (finally) born and fainted on the hallway floor. He was a tall man, and the nurses said he fell like a redwood.

Alas, he lost that election. He won later in life, though, when I was better able to appreciate the excitement of various trials.

My brother still (50 years later) expresses irritation that my birth interrupted his Easter egg hunt when my mom's water broke. My first son was born 4 weeks early by emergency c-section (my placenta separated) when we were out of town. That was exciting.

I was a grown woman with 2 children of my own before I heard about my dramatic birth. My mother's nurse gave her an overdose of the medicine to increase contractions. Her cervix clamped down on my head during labor. I was forcibly removed with forceps. She said I was paralzyed on the left side of my face for several weeks. My parents fretted that I would have brain damage. I blame my klutziness on that.
When my mom started contractions with my brother, she was living alone (except for me) on the farm. My dad had died 3 months previously. She took me to my grandparents across the road & drove alone into town. On the way her car's water pump broke. Luckily she was right by another farm & the farmer took her in to the hospital.
I didn't have such dramatic times with my children.

Dramatic entrances? Hmmm.

I was seven months along before I found out I was having twins. Two weeks later, I went to the hospital in early labor, 3 cm dilated, irregular contractions. Someone suggested helicoptering me to a hospital in Pittsburgh, and my cervix and I screamed HELL NO! I was put on bed rest. Three and a half weeks later, I gave birth in front of a nursing class who'd never seen twins born naturally. At that point, a SWAT team could have watched for all I cared.

To do the math, that's five and half weeks of being in labor. I still believe I clamped down and made it through the 3.5 weeks due to simple fear of helicopters.

I'm waiting for Harley to chime in.

I'm still having a giggle fit over Joe not asking directions to Midwood Hospital

My daughter arrived only seconds before the doctor streaked into the room, having been stuck in traffic. The doctor was stuck in traffic, not my daughter. As I squeezed the kid out, one of the nurses so soothingly said, "Your doctor is here now." Like I gave a shit at that point. I had 15 people in the room in a state of semi-panic because they couldn't find a doctor and they were supposed to have a doctor to deliver a baby. Meanwhile, my daughter slipped into the world, unaware she wasn't supposed to come without the right person to catch her. Then she peed.

So it's not a birth-in-a-cab-story. But it's as close as I can come while telling the truth.

Funny, harrowing. . .great stories!

At about 1 p.m. on Friday, Dec. 16, 1983, I got a phone call from Vivian Jennings, owner of Rainy Day Books, who was letting me know that my first novel had arrived at her store and was now officially on sale! I was so excited! And then my water broke. And at 9:30 the next morning, my first (and only) child arrived! There weren't enough exclamation marks, and there still aren't. First book, first baby, all in the same 24 hours.

I had been in labor since early in the morning without a lot happening. The nurses kept the doctor up to date with my progress (or lack of) and said "sure, go out to eat with your wife". They had just gotten their food when he was beeped to come deliver my son. They packed up their food. While he was helping me, his wife was eating in the doctor's lounge.

Never happened for me, but I always imagined the announcement would read "Mother and Baby are fine, Father recovering."...:)

My pregnancies and deliveries were mercifully undramatic. But since Ramona needs me to chime in, here's the best I can do, and it's pretty pathetic:

With my first baby, in the midst of my 22 hours of labor, the night nurse (a guy) and I realized we'd gone to the same high school in Lincoln, Nebraska, at the same time. As we were at UCLA hospital during this revelation, we found that interesting. He informed me that my ob/gyn was also from Nebraska. I would like to report that we all sang the Cornhusker fight song during the delivery, but this did not happen.

A month before my twins came, I asked my Nebraska obstetrician when I'd get to go on bed rest. She told me I was having a splendid pregnancy and there was no need for bed rest. "You said there'd be bed rest!" I cried. "I was told there'd be bed rest!" I needed bed rest to finish the counted cross stitch Christmas stockings I was working on for the newcomers. She told me to hand off those projects to friends and to forget doing crafts for the next 18 years, as that's how long it would be before I had 2 hands free again. She was right.

Harley, FYI, bed rest was hell.

I hope, in some future story, a mom-to-be and her labor team get to sing the Cornhusker fight song. Talk about a missed opportunity.

Midnight, December 10,1984: I'd been asleep for an hour on the couch, as I was not allowed to go up and down steps. I got up to go to the bathroom and halfway there a flood let loose from me to the floor. At first I thought to myself, "Surely the pressure on my bladder wasn't that great." But, then it hit me. My water had just broken, but I wasn't having any contractions.

After shouting for my husband to come and assist me. He stumbled downstairs and said what should we do. The doctor, when called said, "Get to the hospital even though you have no contractions." So off we went on the 45 minute jaunt to our hospital of choice. On the way I finally started to have faint contractions around 7 minutes apart. Who knew that time frame would be where I would stay for most of the next 30 hours.

There's nothing like the feeling of being on hold in a hospital delivery room. After arriving I was put in a labor room, prepped, put on an IV to replace the amniotic fluids still leaking out with regularity, and told to rest. By the next morning with no progression the tests started to see why. All came back that nothing was wrong so they told me to start walking the halls to see if that would make my labor progress.

There I was parading up and down the halls of the maternity unit in a hospital gown, pushing an IV stand, and every so often a gusher would come. And by the way, my husband had left me on my own to go shopping. He had decided we needed a video camera. He was gone for six hours.

By the second night we were finally getting down to business and my daughter was finally born at 6:32 a.m. on December 11.

Now for a really dramatic story.

My nephew and his wife who was just over 8 months pregnant, decided to drive in from Bethesda, MD to attend a reunion and to get maternity photos taken. On Sunday morning my nephew woke my parents up with the news, "Katie's water broke when she got up to go to the bathroom and she's in labor."

They decided they had time to drive back to Bethesda (a four hour journey at the posted speed limit) and packed up their bags, two dogs, and took off. My nephew, just going into his second year of med school, acted calm. But as he drove onto the turnpike he took a wrong turn and went to Ohio instead. He turned around in "No mans land", which is the area between the PA and Ohio tollgates, and headed back the right way. We're told they hit speeds of 85 mph on the way.

They didn't even go straight to the hospital, they went home and dropped the dogs off first then headed to the hospital where my great-nephew Jackson was born at 6 p.m.

My brother, fourth kid in my family, arrived a week before Christmas the year I was ten. Mother brought him home on Christmas Day, and I was enthralled. He was "my" baby, and I was Mother's little helper. (We're still close; now he's my workout partner, who feels compelled to work me as hard as he can. Hmm.)

My oldest was born on the coldest day of the year, two days before Thanksgiving, and our old heap of a car had no heat. We lived more than a half hour from the hospital. I was a shy, almost innocent 19-year old, but having everyone and their brother checking my dilation got me over that in a hurry! No Lamaze classes preparing me for labor, which was 14 hours of just contractions until WHAM, the real ones started. I asked to be knocked out (I didn't know any other way to do it), and my daughter was born just a few minutes later. Apparently they gave me a whopping dose of the ether or whatever because the next day or so went by with no participation whatsoever on my part. Thank goodness things had changed dramatically 14 years later when I had my next kid.

For some reason this morning, this blog reminds me of the beginning of the Ben Casey TV show: Man, Woman, Birth, Death...Infinity.

Ramona and Harley, I was thinking of you both yesterday when I read that Bond #23, starring Blond Bond, is on its way. Try to contain yourselves.

Harley, I love that you were outraged about not needing bed rest. And the Cornhusker connection.

Darling daughter number one was born in 1989 in Warsaw, Poland and joined our family in 1991. Fast forward to 1995 and the miracle of modern science and extremely careful timing and my second daughter is supposed to enter the world the end of March.

Well, she was kinda tiny and wasn't growing very fast, so the doctor wanted to induce me on Friday, March 10. No problem, EXCEPT, daughter #1's birthday is March 11. I was bound and determined not to have #2 until after #1's birthday. Call me crazy, but she was first and I knew deep down in my heart that it was important for her to have her birthday before her sibling (we didn't know until she was here that she was a girl)

So I banked on Murphy's Law and had everything totally and completely under control. I had juice before the doctor appt on Friday so she was nice and active; had everything set up for the school birthday celebration, extra help for the birthday party on Saturday, the treats for dance class, and the bag packed for grandma's.

The end result was that daughter #2 entered the world at 8:45 pm on March 13 -- six years and two days after her sister's birthday. Since mine is 6 days later, March is a pretty wonderful month at our house. People who don't know the history of our family think we "planned" this. Cosmic Karma is really hard to beat.

The births were easy but not esthetical. With my oldest I threw up seven times in the delivery room making in this way a big dot to the nine month vomiting (every day, to be more exact, numerous times per day). The next day the first question for the visitors was: “Do you have nausea?”

My youngest daughter decided to celebrate in the same way her birth. The moment before she was born I ejected for the last time the content of my stomach.

And it took me quite a while to get rid off all small bags I had been carrying around everywhere with me for 9 months.

Oh, what wonderful stories! What a wonderful post! NAncyM, I'm laughing with that picture of "falling like a redwood"--and Margaret, poor Joe. Who'd a thunk, right?

There's a big story around here now about a guy who was pulled over for speeding--going 100 in a 30, something like that--because he was taking his wife to the hospital since she was about to give birth.

He got a big fat ticket--after he was escorted to the hosptal. And now he's appealing, based on the fact that he was speeding becuase of the impending birth. Hmmm...

My mother's favorite story--when I was born, she said, someone commented--oh, what a doll! And Mom said--no, she's not a doll. She's real.

My oldest daughter was a preemie.

Her dad and I were in the midst of the nesting phase and attempting to finish our house remodel before the expected arrival in September, 1997. Being pregnant in the summer, I'd been plagued with Braxton-Hicks contractions, so when the real things started - I ignored them and they weren't severe. We were trying to put our kitchen back together, so I wasn't watching the time. We were WEEKS away.

BAM! Contractions went to long & strong every 3 minutes, and didn't stop. It was later at night, the entire contents of my fridge were on the counters and the door was off and husband was putting a new seal on the fridge.

Result of call to OB's call line "This is a first baby for you, but if the contractions continue and you're feeling nervous, you can drive on into the hospital and they'll just look you over.

Called my mom (I'm the oldest daughter of the oldest daughter and this was to be the first grandchild/great-grandchild.) She was cutting my brothers hair, and my uncle was waiting his turn. They left immediately. My brother had 1/2 a haircut!

My in-laws were 2 hours away at the lake cabin. They almost didn't drive in because it was a first, and it would take HOURS anyway.

Got to the hospital, stupidly said I'd be fine walking to Labor & delivery no wheelchair needed. (FYI - I tell everyone - ALWAYS take the wheelchair option.) I doubled over in the elevator and it took a few people to get me out of it. My shift nurse said, change, wait here, and I'll call the OB & see what he says. You'll probably go home in an hour or so.

My daughter (4th generation oldest daughter) was born less than 45 minutes after we arrived at the hospital. She distressed, and the DR had to start using the "vacuum" before he even had his arms in a gown. I barely had one doctor, and my dear daughter had 3 doctors and 5 nurses from the NICU in less than 1 minute. Those people are awesome.

My family worked furiously for 24 hours to ready a nursery, assemble a crib, buy diapers, find preemie clothes (smaller than babydoll ones), and buy a carseat.

The next week, I had to cancel our Lamaze classes, and DD went to two of her own baby showers - later.

My second daughter was also preemie - in the summer, and we were at the hospital less than 1/2 an hour before she was delivered - by a nurse! They did the epidural - for stitching afterwards!

Two was it! Their Dad didn't feel up to the task of delivering on the side of the highway.

After finally getting pregnant after five years my mother-in-law was convinced that we were going to have a hard time adjusting to losing our freedom.
After all, every weekend we drove to Santa Barbara, San Diego, Vegas and everywhere. Sometimes we would drive up to Hollywood and see multiple movies and drive back down to stick the laundry in the laundromat late Sunday and off to work again.
However, when that little bundle of joy arrived we stuck like glue to her and became completely devoted to domestic bliss.
I would not change anything. The first movie we took her to was a Drive-in where Barbarella with Jane Fonda was playing. Our life had not changed after all.
When my grandson was born both grandmothers hung on to each other for dear life and so another generation was launched.
At the birth of my second child during a C-section I was partially awake and I volunteered that Ann-Margaret had fallen from a stage in Tahoe or Vegas. The doctor said "Who's Ann-Margaret?. That shut me up for a while and the delivery proceeded.

Wow... Just, wow.
Both my births were chemically enhanced and wonderful. Thank God.
Peach and Marcia - Bless You!

What wonderful stories! Truly. I've laughed at strong men falling out, Harley feeling cheated of her bed rest, and Judith's mother's remark from back when there were an awful lot of "premature" first babies born less than 9 months after the wedding. Peach, you made me hold my breath over your nephew's wrong turn (was sure you were going to say the baby was born on the Turnpike) and yes, Karen, these stories could all be incidents from Ben Casey or General Hospital!

P-Wog likes to brag that he was born a year before Steve and I were married, leaving out the fact that we adopted him and his sister.

When I was a hippie living in LA, some friends decided to have a home birth. The mother was probably the calmest woman I've ever met, and she'd had two children before. This was to be a beautiful home birth, with candles and soft music and was being filmed for posterity. Her husband, a comedian who loved camera time, was at the foot of the bed between her legs giving a demo for the camera, saying things like "...and this is where the baby will come out," while the camera rolled. The midwife, another calm woman said quietly "I'm not sure I'd stand there, her water hasn't broken yet," but the husband kept doing his demo. When her water finally broke, it hit him in the face with such force that it knocked him down. He was quiet after that. An hour after the baby was born (a beautiful healthy girl), the mother was in the kitchen drinking herbal tea, and, when the doctor came by to check the baby, he spent most of his time ministering to the father. My only regret is that I don't have a copy of the video.

My mom was seven months pregnant and her contractions started while she was keeping score for my dad's baseball team 90 miles from home. She ignored them until the game was over. Then called her doctor and he basically told her to quit wasting his time she wasn't due for another two months. They drove straight home to the hospital and shortly after that I was born.

Back then, in the early sixties, they wouldn't release a baby from the hospital until it weighed at least six pounds so for the next six weeks, mom went to the hospital numerous times a day to nurse until finally I was ready to come home.

Great stories!

My Mom had a lot of bleeding when she was pregnant with me, and the doctors told MY PATERNAL GRANDPARENTS that I would be stillborn.

Did they tell my mother? No, they did not. They didn't even tell my Dad until my Mom started labor and they put her under General Anesthesia. That's right. OUT.

Needless to say, I was born alive and loud from the get-go. The family was so shocked it took almost an hour for the party to start in the hospital waiting room. It was the day in September 1960 that the Pirates won the Pennant. Legend has it that the docs were all smoking Cuban cigars and drinking homemade wine while they were in the operating room waiting for my Mom to wake up.

My mother, who will be 81 tomorrow, was not only a preemie, but she was a twin. Her twin brother died at birth, and my mom weighed a mere three pounds. They diapered her in Grandpa's hankies, and she slept in a CIGAR BOX. Can you imagine? She's like a miracle, for those days.

By the way, my dad was also a twin, who twin sister was born dead. He didn't know this until my mother was pregnant with me and the talk turned to "wonder if this will be twins, since Joan was a twin", and my other grandmother finally spoke about losing what would have been her only daughter.

Great stories! I could fill a blog, but just three, one for me and one for each princess.

Princess two will be six on Monday. They are closing the school just for the day! Monday will also be Queen Molly's birthday.

When Molly was pregnant with Princess one I was delivery pizza four nights a week, not two. We were also delivering way more pizzas to the maternity floors at Missouri Baptist Medical Center (a/k/a the baby factory.) MBMC delivers about 300 children a month. Molly asked what I would do if I was on the labor and delivery floor when she paged me that it was time to go to the hospital.

I said, "That's easy. I would stop at the desk and tell them to pull your file. I will be back in an hour."

On a Monday night I had just returned to the store after a delivery and was getting ready to leave for the night when I got "the call." I took off for home, picked up Molly and headed to the hospital. It is possible I exceeded the posted speed limit in both directions. I did stay below 100. Once at the hospital, another driver came to pick up the money for the nights deliveries. My last run of the night, five rooms down from the room Molly ended up in.

Me. In the spring and summer of 1962 there was a new drug for pregnant women to treat morning sickness. Mom was pregnant with me and throwing up. Her doctor had heard of some side effects and decided that he would not perscibe this wonder drug any more. Mom just had to live with the morning sickness. The drug was Thalidomide.

That was a close call, Alan.

Oh Alan, I hope you send that doctor a thank-you card every birthday. I know a doctor who, after the Thalidomide tragedies, refused to prescribe any drug that hadn't been on the market at least five years. Some called him a fuddy-duddy and Nervous Nellie. I call him sensible.

Karen, have you read Brunonia's LACE READER yet? Did either of your parents feel what Towner felt?

I was thinking of The Lace Reader too, when Karen told that story.

I'm loving these stories. I don't have a very exciting one for my one and only (successful) pregnancy - except that I was taken out of work 3 weeks before my due date, and went into labor the next day. I was in the middle of stenciling little bears in the baby's bedroom. They never did get finished. Oh, and my due date was April 21, and I went into labor on April 1. I was not amused. Fortunately, my daughter hung on until April 2 to be born - so she didn't have to go through life as an April Fool.

Margaret, thank God your husband found the hospital. I don't think it would have been physically possible to give birth in a VW Beetle.

Laura, when babies start coming, it could be in the backseat of a clown car for all they care.

Kathy, not to be flip about your birth and it must have been a heartbreaking time in the waiting room for your dad and his parents, but trying to imagine you quiet takes a real leap of imagination!

I have read The Lace Reader (wonderful story!). But as far as I know, neither of my parents felt anything like that. However, my dad died in 1969, when I was not quite 18, so it's not something we would have discussed.

People have given birth in VW's, lots of them back in the day.

Alan, my mom was offered Thalidomide when she was pregnant with my and my younger brother and she was the one that said no both times. Whew.

A friend of mine had a baby 3 years ago and when she was pregnant I was appalled at all the drugs she was offered. She did end of taking one drug for severe heart burn and just suffered without the rest of what they wanted her to take.

My mother was put on hold by the military while in labor with my older brother. They were testing one of the 'stop the contraction' meds. Let's just say that mom and David were lucky that he only had to wait a couple days and was jaunticed. :(

Me? My mom swears that I was born during one of the worst heat waves to hit Dallas TX. Of course, she is from PA, so how would she have known? But that is where they were since getting out of the military to avoid a repeat. They arrived at the hospital, and they wouldn't admit her as the admin swore that my parents had paid already. She was barely in the room when she started screaming... "here she comes...". Good thing the doctor was quick on his feet. :)

I was supposed to be a Christmas baby, but showed up Feb. 5. Mom never forgave me.

Last July, right after our storytelling conference in LA, a friend went on to visit her daughter and await her grandchild, and ended up delivering that impatient baby in the backseat of the car on the way to the hospital. All are doing well.
I was the opposite of impatient, and my mother's doctor gave her castor oil to hurry me along so he could take his children to the Veiled Prophet Parade.

My girls were born eleven minutes apart. Longest fucking eleven minutes of my life, except for the previous sixteen hours.

I threw up for the first five months, and had to pee every thirty seconds for the final three months. And was sleeping in a loft bed the entire time on Sixteenth Street in NYC. Had a fifty-nine inch waist by seven months--after that it just got square. I had to climb down the loft bed ladder with it turned sideways for the last trimester, at least five times a night. They weighed six pounds nine ounces and seven pounds even, respectively, on birth.

I used to look at pictures of women pregnant with triplets in my multiple pregnancies handbooks, just to cheer myself up.

Elaine, I submit that your mother could not count. :-)

Cornelia, I think I would have slept on the damned floor!

My husband is also a twin, and that sounds like his and his brother's birth weights. And my mother-in-law did NOT know she was having twins! Can you imagine? She was 39, too.

My parents were married 11/13/55; I was born 6/9/55. Mom swears I was two months early. I weighed 7lbs 7oz. Uh huh.

My mother's longest labor was about 6 hours. My older sister was 6 1/2 hours. I just couldn't wait, I knew it would be pain...over. Yeah, right. My water broke at 11:30 am and Stephanie wasn't born until 3:14am the following day. Dear Hubby worked 3rd shift and only had about 3 hours sleep when we left for the hospital. They drug a recliner into the labor room and gave him a blanket (it was October). He promptly fell asleep and all three shifts of nurses were more concerned he wouldn't wake in time for the delivery than they were about me.

I had an epidural, but it stopped all contractions. They then gave me petocin to get them going again. I had all back labor and I just couldn't concentrate on the breathing. When the nurse asked who our birthing class instructor was, she sighed and said, "Oh, Lord. We'll have to talk these two through the whole thing." Steph slid out on her nose; she was flat from the tip of her nose to the crown of her head. Dear Hubby said, "My God, she looks like a Conehead!"

It really was fairly normal. The best thing about the whole experience...the flannel blankets they pulled out of the warmer. That was heaven! I also hadn't had anything to eat for about 24 hours. That toast, cream of wheat & eggs was the best meal I have ever had, lol.

I'm with Karen, Cornelia. Getting up and down from the floor sounds a lot easier than a loft ladder. But so many twin stories. I so wanted to be a twin. Unfortunately, there were none hanging from any branch in the family tree on either side.

Cornelia, me too -- my twins were just under 6 pounds and 7.5 pounds (my daughter outweighing her brother and every year the gap between them widens). That's a lot of baby for you and me both. My ankles were the size of elephant ankles.

BOND IS COMING BACK?!?!? Hallelujah, Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

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