It was the middle of the night and I was too restless to sleep.  I was having Braxton-Hicks contractions.  My baby wasn't due for another two weeks so I doubted that I was in labor.

In the morning I got dressed for my regular doctor's appointment.  I was still experiencing some cramping off and on, but nothing that would prevent me from doing what I had planned that day.

The doctor examined me and said, "Well, are you all set to have your baby?"  When I told him that I was all ready, he said, "Good, because it's going to be soon - like tonight."  I was totally effaced and dilated 2 centimeters, but "bulged" during a contraction.  I left the office confused.  I didn't feel like I was in labor.  Certainly I wasn't in any pain.

I stopped off at the restroom on my way out because the exam had caused a little bleeding and I wanted a sanitary pad.  I was on my way to lunch with a friend.  But as soon as I sat down on the toilet a thick discharge dropped out.  It was like a clot from a period.  I jumped up and stood there looking at it.  Was this the "bloody show" or had the doctor's probing fingers done me some damage?  I nervously cleaned myself up.  There was not much blood, not even enough to bother with a pad.  I wondered what I should do.

I had my delivery all planned and rehearsed, but now that I appeared to be in labor, I went through some moments of panic.  Not because of any pain that I was in - I was only mildly uncomfortable - but in anticipation of the pain that I thought might be ahead of me.  What if having a baby is really as awful as everyone says it is?  Maybe I should just go back upstairs to the doctor and ask him what to do. . .

After a few deep breaths and a little reasoning with myself I decided to go home.  This must be a false alarm.  I wasn't due for two weeks, I felt OK, I wasn't in pain, so this wasn't labor.

I called my friend and told her I wouldn't be there for lunch and I explained to my husband Joe what the doctor had said.  He convinced me to call the midwife and Francine, my friend who was coming to the birth.   I told everybody that I thought it was only a false alarm, though somehow I knew it really wasn't and I was scared to death.

Well, if this was it, I decided to get ready and put up as brave a front as I could muster.  I ate a small lunch, took a shower, and made myself a cup of tea with honey.  Then I covered the seat of my rocking chair with plastic and a towel (in case of membranes breaking), put a clock nearby, and sat waiting for something to happen.

I would time three contractions in a row, each lasting 60 seconds, about five minutes apart, but then nothing would happen for a while.  This irregularity went on until late afternoon when I was so tired that I fell asleep on the couch.

When I awoke I felt perfect, no more cramps or tightness in my back and I was convinced that I'd been a victim of false labor.  The midwife came by and confirmed that labor had started but seemed to have stopped for the time being.  The only thing to do was wait and I breathed a long sigh of relief at having been spared a little longer.

I slept well and was dressing to go out when the contractions started again.  They weren't much, the same as the day before, but this time I decided to keep it to myself.  It was too embarrassing to have everyone hovering around expecting a baby to pop out any minute.

But just to be on the safe side, I took it easy, ate lightly, and drank lots of fluids just as the midwife instructed.

The entire day passed like this.  Contractions off and on but with no more intensity than a period cramp.  At 10:30 P.M. I was in bed reading when I heard a strange popping noise - like knuckles cracking.  I sat up wondering if the sound could have come from me.  I felt a gush of wetness and rushed to the bathroom thinking that I was wetting my pants.  More wetness leaked out.

I went downstairs to consult with Joe on this new development.  He suggested that I collect a bit of the fluid so that we could check it better.  I did this, leaking more all the while, and we found it to be clear with bits of white in it.  (We later learned that this was vernix.)  But since I was expecting totally clear liquid, I still wasn't sure if my water had broken or not.

I went to bed while Joe called the midwife.  Now the contractions were strong, although not painful.  I sat cross-legged on the bed, alone in the room, looking at all my little things on the dresser.  Perfume bottles, jewelry. . . The Hall light was on and I wanted it off, but not enough to get up and do it myself.

So this was labor.  Now I was sure.  There was nothing vague about the hardness of my stomach or the pull in my lower back.  But now I wasn't afraid.  I don't know why because, god knows, I spent many hours worrying about this moment.  I can only think that it's the waiting and imagining that is worse than the reality.

The midwife arrived shortly and did an examination.  I was 3 cm. with regular contractions.  The baby's heartbeats were good and the head was dropped and moveable in my pelvis.  She reminded me to go to the bathroom often, drink fluids, and relax.  Then she left to attend another birth that was happening at the same time.  We all assumed that there was plenty of time left before we would meet this child.

Joe put a chair near the toilet so I could lean forward and relax while sitting there.  I didn't want to stay in bed.  I'd walk up and down the hall until I felt a contraction coming on, then I'd rush back to bed or to the toilet and sit down.  I wanted and expected complete silence during a contraction.  Since Joe was the only one with me (Francine did not arrive until later) this was not difficult to get.

As long as there was a space between the contractions I was not bothered by them.  I consciously made an effort to relax but did nothing more.  I was slightly uncomfortable, nothing more.

But suddenly - or so it seemed to me, anyway - I was getting barely any rest between contractions.  They were coming right on top of one another.  I asked Joe to time them and snapped at him as though it were his fault that I couldn't tell where one ended and another began.

I felt the need to go to the bathroom.  I looked at the clock.  It was 1:30 A.M.  It had only been three hours since my water broke, so I assumed that I really did have to go.  I pulled myself up and hobbled down the hall.  I got caught midway by the most horrendous contraction which doubled me over and sent me crawling back to the bedroom.  This was the only real pain I experienced during my entire labor and delivery.

I gave up the idea of going to the bathroom.  The bed wasn't comfortable, so I rolled down to the floor.  I lay on my side in the doorway feeling confused and miserable.  Not that the pain was so awful, but because I was on my threshold of tolerance, and was expecting many more hours of labor.  If it got any worse I didn't feel that I could make it.

A tingling sensation came over me and for an instant I felt faint.  Then all of a sudden my abdomen gave a gigantic heave and I felt a great mass move and drop downward.  The quality of this last contraction was so different from the others that I immediately took notice.  When the next one came (for now there was a break between contractions) there was no doubt in my mind.  This was the "urge to push."

I called to Joe, who was bringing up my beanbag chair.  I didn't want to lie in bed, yet needed a little support for my back.  We put a sheet over the chair and Joe helped get me positioned before running downstairs to call the midwife.

I no longer felt confused or miserable but clearheaded and strong.  Somehow I had been counting on a burst of instinct and that's exactly what I got.  I felt I knew just what to do.

Francine came in at this time and urged me to blow out rather than push.  But although I made a disorganized effort to comply, my body was going against my will and pushing anyway.  I discovered that the harder I pushed, the better I felt - and I did feel good at this stage - lots of energy and enthusiasm.  And I discovered that if I pushed real hard there was absolutely no pain, not even mild discomfort.

The midwife hurried in, pulled on her gloves and said, "OK, let your baby come down."  Joe sat behind me and I used his bent knees for grips.  I could feel the baby sliding down and it was a strange sensation, but in no way painful.

I rested between contractions and everyone was quiet and smiling as we waited.  When the head crowned, a mirror was brought in so that I could see, but I was only interested in catching my breath so that I could push even harder when the next one came.

After a few good, hard pushes Francine said, "There's an ear!"  She was sitting on the bed.  And the midwife said, "Touch your baby's head."  I started to reach down, but really just wanted to rest.  It felt so strange having that head stuck between my legs that I eagerly waited for the next contraction.  While this felt strange, it did not hurt.

Once the head was born the rest just slid out.  She kicked as she was born and the midwife announced, "A baby girl!"

Emily gasped a bit and whimpered but never really screamed.  She was put on my stomach, cord still attached, while the midwife massaged her limbs to get a pinker color.  She just looked around bewildered.  Joe brought up a blanket that had been heated in the oven and this was put over us both.

The cord was cut after all the blood had gone through and Emily was put to my breast to nurse and help bring on the contractions that would expel the placenta.  It surprised me that such a tiny person knew how to nurse, but she did and she grabbed right on and sucked so vigorously that it hurt.  The placenta came twenty minutes later.  My entire labor, from the time the water broke until delivery, was four hours.

Who started this ugly rumor that childbirth is painful?  I surely didn't find it that way, yet whenever I tell that to someone I'm called either insane or a liar.  I've been told that nature makes us forget the pain of childbirth and it is suggested that my memory has failed me.  Or else my good experience is simply chalked up to luck.

I can't say why giving birth was so painless for me.  There is nothing in my character or physical nature that sets me apart from most other women.  But I want to make it clear that although I had no more pain than random slight discomforts, I am not saying that childbirth is easy.  It was without a doubt the most physically taxing thing I'd ever done.  But anyone who has ever played a good hard game of tennis and WON will know what I'm talking about.  Because when you have that baby, you just can't lose and that makes every ounce of energy expended well worth it.