“My son was breech and born by c-section, so when I became pregnant with my daughter, a year and a half later, I decided it made the most sense to have her by c-section as well. (Devil you know, and all that.) We had the c-section scheduled for a Monday, but on Friday night, I started having tiny contractions. My doctor said not to worry—it was just “pre-labor”—but as the contractions got worse, I started to panic. My husband called a friend to come stay with our son, and off we went to the hospital to see what was what. After five hours of having me walk around (the hospital, the block, you name it), they determined it was indeed pre-labor and I was cleared to have my c-section, as planned, on Monday.
Sheepishly, I went home. My contractions progressed but, not wanting to cause another false alarm, I ignored them—assuming I was nowhere close to actually having a baby. (We did, however, ask my mom to drive up, just in case we needed her to stay with our son.) And wouldn't you know it, come 2 a.m. Saturday night, I was in agony. Though my water hadn't broken, my contractions were coming constantly, and I knew I had to get to the hospital stat.
When I arrived at triage, they agreed, and called my doctor to hurry in to perform the c-section. Everybody kept telling me there was plenty of time, but in between begging the attending physicians for an epidural (no dice when you're awaiting surgery, it turns out) I could feel myself...starting to push. “I'm pushing!” I screamed. “Don't push!” the nurses screamed back. “Too late!” I yelled. And...there you have it. I delivered my daughter by accident, and via VBAC just as my doctor was pulling into the parking lot. As I like to finish the story, she's been surprising and terrorizing us ever since!” — Jillian Q., NYC