This is a bit of a continuation, albeit a freewritten version, of this post of mine, in which I describe the events at the birth of my first child.
My second birth, my son, was a very different story! The midwife, Sylvie again, was working with a groovy-ish ob-gyn in Manhattan, so the birth would have to be in hospital if I wanted to work with Sylvie, and I did. The practice had the lowest c-section rate in the city, probably because their midwives would do work that the doctors would rather not do. We had many problems while I was in labor, and even Sylvie thought I should have a c-section, The doctor would not cut! So drama drama drama all around, Sylvie worked her ass off, but I got that VBAC, while the doctor flirted with the nurses outside and stopped in now and then. My third child was all natural, again with Sylvie, in a hospital.
Whatever happened at each of these, the moment that baby was in my arms, the rest was one long blur, and there was nothing else in the whole wide world but love.
This is my entry to 
