In light of my pervious history (besides my twins, I've had 2 miscarriages), the Navy decided that I should get civilian care for my next pregnancy.    This was both a blessing and a disappointment.  I'd  have more say over what my birth would be like, but I had been hoping to have the midwives again.  Since the military will only pay for an obstetrician, there would be no midwives for me this time.  The pregnancy was uneventful until Christmas Eve (30 weeks) when we began  what would be a 6-week battle with premature labor which required 5 weeks of strict bedrest and IV medication (morphine and Brethine) to control. At 35 weeks, my husband went out to do some quick errands, leaving me home with my 4-year-old son.  20 minutes after he left, I felt a peculiar sensation I couldn't quite identify.  Had my water broken?  Or was I just losing control of my bladder?  Whatever it was, I couldn't stop the trickle.  I called my OB's office, to find out what they wanted me to do.  As I suspected, they wanted me to come in to the office "so we can find out".  I called a friend  who took me (and my 4 yo) to the Dr.'s office, leaving a message at home for my DH.  By the time we got to the office, just a few miles from my home, it was obvious that my membranes had indeed ruptured.   "How far apart are your contractions?" the nurse asked.  I wasn't really having any contractions to speak of, and felt fine.  Despite their urgings to go to the hospital to "get helped along", we went home.  I had already had this discussion  with my OB.  We had reached the understanding that as long as I had no signs of infection, we would not induce.  On the 5th day, though, I did spike a fever.  The NST showed the baby to be in a bit of distress, and so it was decided that induction  really was in everyone's best interest.  They started the IV before dawn, kicking it up every hour or so. I bore the pain well, until 9 hours had past.  The contractions were much more intense than I had realized  they would be, and (as I'm told is the norm for induced labor) came in rapid-fire succession, so that I was unable to recover from one before the next hit.  I asked for one dose of something to take the edge off.  I do not know what they gave me, but it worked, and allowed me to cope through the next  6 hours.  But by then I was exhausted.  I was fully dilated, but had no urge to push -- only an urge to go hide until the pain stopped.  The baby's heart rate was beginning to behave erratically, and it was clear that we needed to get him out soon.  I asked the OB for "something".  He offered me something I hadn't known existed:  A tiny dose of medication would be given, much like an epidural.  He promised me that it would not remove all my sensation, as had the epidural I'd had with my first son.  True to his word, the epidural only took away most of the pain, leaving me with complete sensation in all other ways.  Suddenly I had an unbelievable urge to bear down -- so THIS is what everyone meant by "you'll just *need* to push"!!  The OB, nurses, and my husband  helped me find a comfortable position for pushing, and we got down to business.  I did need a bit of help when the baby got "Stuck" behind his hand (he's tried to be born while sucking his thumb!), but about 10 seconds of the vacuum extractor was all that was needed.  The doc stopped the vacuum when the baby was unstuck -- he did not use it any more than was absolutely necessary.  As the baby was crowning, it became clear that my wish to avoid an episiotomy this time might not be viable.  The old incision from the twins' birth was beginning to tear.  Between pushes, the OB asked me if I would allow a "small snip -- just to redirect things, and take the pressure off this one".  His promise was no more that 5 stitches worth. At 6:12 pm, after only 30 minutes of pushing, I delivered my second son, Jack.  He was a good size for 36 weeks, 6 lbs 10 oz.  But he  was blue and not breathing.  It took a few minutes to bring him around, but with a lot of kangaroo care, we were able to bring him home on day 3.

- Phan