First pregnancy. Contractions started after building a bookshelf for the baby's room, 3 (or 4) days past 40 weeks. When I started timing them they were 5 minutes apart. I had a (faulty) belief that if I trusted my body enough I would have a drug-free, natural birth experience and that c-sections were the "easy way out" (my mother is proud of the section she had with me because she "got to sleep through it" and that built up an unrealistic expectation that "natural" was the only way to really have a baby). I truly believed that simply wanting a vaginal birth was enough and that complications would not happen to me.

Dec. 23, 5pm - Finished building bookshelf and sat down for a cold drink. Noticed contractions that felt different from the Braxton Hicks I had been experiencing for weeks. They just felt more "complete" and like they had a purpose rather than random cramping or tightening. I loosely kept track and my husband and I ordered pizza and played video games. As the night went on we started timing more consistently and the contractions became stronger and longer-lasting but still about 5 minutes apart. I tried to make cookies at one point. Had a bit of pink spotting on toilet paper around midnight which was very exciting.

Dec. 24, 3am - Headed to hospital emergency department and directed to maternity ward for check-in. We had already preregistered so I just got my bracelet and was told to go to the obstetrical triage area for assessment. After half an hour on the monitors they checked my cervix which was at about a 3. I was offered the choice between a shot to help the pain or an hour's walk around the ward, and wanting a natural/drug-free birth we opted to walk. It was excruciating -- I couldn't get more than a couple of very slow, shuffling steps before another contraction would take over and I couldn't move. That hour felt more like 4 or 5 and by the time our hour was up I was sure I would be staying, but another half-hour on the monitors and another internal check revealed no change at all. Again, I was offered a shot (which would mean that I was allowed to stay) or they would ask us to go home and allow labour to progress until my waters broke or the pain was unmanageable.

Dec. 24, 6am - Home to try to rest. At this point my husband had been up since 9am the previous day (I had napped in the middle of the day) and neither of us had eaten since about 7pm. He ran me a bath (waters were still intact and I wanted to relax), made me a cup of tea and got me a few pieces of pizza to eat in the tub while he slept in our bedroom next door. I couldn't eat more than a few bites and spent maybe 20 minutes in the bath before I had to get out because I didn't feel any better and crawled into bed beside him. 10 minutes later I woke him up in tears, begging him to take me back to the hospital.

Dec. 24, 7am - Back in obstetrical triage on the monitors. Cervix check revealed that I was now at a 4. Opted to take the pain shot (I believe it was morphine with some gravol) so that I would be allowed to stay and hopefully rest for a little bit. Had some blood taken, was given shot, and both of us attempted to sleep. Around 9am my husband called each of our parents to let them know that we were probably having a baby -- his parents and my dad wished us luck and my mom hung up on him insisting that she was on her way (not part of the plan). What should have taken her a 1.5-hour drive ended up being about 45 minutes and she was harassing the nurses who would not let her into triage (1 person/bedside rule).

Dec. 24, 11am - Morphine has worn off and contractions have decreased in frequency. After another check (no progress) we are asked to walk for another hour, return for a check, and if still not progressing will be sent home again. My mom walks with us around the hospital for a bit and is her obnoxious self, only more pronounced because we are both exhausted and hungry. We grab something from the coffee shop and send her back to the waiting room while we return to be checked. I stopped to pee before I got back to our little curtained-off bed and when I tried to climb back on the cot I felt a huge gush, so I sent my husband to get the nurse who checked the pad under me to find that my waters had broken (good news, we were allowed to stay!) and were very bloody and contained meconium (bad news). An internal check revealed no change to my cervix and a bulging, intact bag of waters -- we were told that it was my "hind waters" that had broken and that a doctor would need to break my bag. We called family again to give them a report.

Dec. 24, 3pm - Moved to private labour suite for monitoring. Once I changed into a gown and laid down on the bed I didn't get up again and I really lost track of time. A doctor came in to check me and confirmed that my bag of waters was still intact, so he came back to break it and apparently there was a lot more blood and meconium. I was told that they would be putting me on Pitocin to help my contractions along, which I didn't really want but there was a sense of urgency conveyed because the fluids were not looking very nice. I accepted the offer of an epidural and they put in a catheter. The epi was nice at first and allowed me to rest for a little bit, but after about 2 hours I noticed that it wasn't feeling so cozy anymore. The nurses topped me up a few times before a new doctor came in (shift change) who I had seen once during my pregnancy when my regular doctor went on vacation. I wasn't happy to see her at first because I hadn't liked her but her demeanor in-hospital was completely different and very comforting. She asked if I remembered her and talked with me for a bit about what was happening with my epidural and seemed to listen to my concerns about it not working anymore. She lifted the sheet to check me and saw the fluid coming out of me, and I saw the worried look she gave the nurses. I had developed a fever so she ordered some antibiotics and offered to have the anesthetist re-do my epi to see if that would help.

The second epidural was given but it never took properly -- instead I felt it pool in my legs and set my thighs and hips on fire. The nurses were asking me to conserve my energy by not making so much noise and try breathing through the pain, but contractions were on top of each other at this point and I wanted to get away from the pain in my legs. I was informed that I was still bleeding, fever rising, having epidural issues, and baby was now showing signs of distress. The doctor looked me in the eye and stroked my hair and said to me, "Sweetie, we're going to have to take your baby from your belly." And I just shattered. I was screaming and crying inconsolably as some people tried to wheel me out of the room while others checked for hidden piercings and asked last-minute questions on my way to the OR. Someone thrust a clipboard at me asking for my signature to consent to a blood transfusion if I needed it. All I could remember thinking was that I was going to die and I couldn't stop the negative thoughts that suddenly took over.

Dec. 24, 11:30pm - I looked at the clock in the OR as they prepped me for surgery. My husband wasn't with me and it was a combined effort between OR staff and myself to move my body over to the table, which was impossible because my epidural was all locked up in my hips. After they strapped my arms out to the sides I started to shake violently and I barely had enough time to warn them before I threw up. My husband was suddenly at my side in scrubs and they were attempting a pinprick test, which I could feel all over my abdomen. I was told that a spinal wasn't possible at this point and that the epidural was already failing, so my only option to stay awake was to have a local anesthetic injected. It took more on my right side than on my left and they tilted the table to compensate, then began the operation. There was a lot of pressure and I didn't know where to look.

Dec. 25, 12:38am - Finally, they pulled the baby out and announced it was a girl -- everyone had been saying she would be a boy! -- and we got to hear her crying while we kissed and cried ourselves. The staff wished us a Merry Christmas. My husband was able to get some pictures of her but I didn't get the chance to see our daughter because as they were attempting to sew me back together the anesthetic began to fail and I started feeling everything. I was staring at the anesthetist and heard myself screaming, "I can feel everything, it hurts, it hurts." She was very quick to knock me out -- my husband said he hurried over when he heard me screaming and saw this thick white substance going through the tube, and then he was escorted out of the OR.

The doctor was amazing enough to meet my husband in recovery after she put me back together and explained that I was okay. She hugged him and I guess he was then handed our daughter. I woke up a little later and felt like I was in a dream -- I knew why we were in the hospital and sort of knew what had happened, but my husband was holding a baby. When he saw that I was awake, he brought her over to me and I finally got to hold our daughter. All I knew was that I needed to get her skin-to-skin so I tore down the hospital gown and stuffed her in there and tried to put her to my breast. She latched immediately and the nurse was very impressed. They let me hold her as they wheeled me to my hospital room and my husband called our families to wish them a very Merry Christmas and to announce the birth of our daughter.

I was told after the fact that they are unsure why the epidural failed so spectacularly, although it may have had something to do with the amount of blood loss, which was greater than expected (and just under the amount needed for a transfusion, in the end). The bleeding was attributed to a partial abruption which they discovered during surgery, and although our baby was in distress before she was delivered she did end up being okay and was a champion eater.