An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation

The labor story, part two

Five years ago when I was experiencing postpartum depression with Leta I was actively seeing a therapist to try and talk my way up and out and through the darkness. This therapist is by far the best one I’ve ever seen, and I’ve recommended her to almost everyone I know. Have a hangnail? GO SEE THIS THERAPIST. She’s just totally no nonsense, out with it now, and will tell you exactly what you need to hear even if you don’t want to hear it. I cannot count the times she has rolled her eyes, shaken her head and said, “Well, Heather, if that wasn’t the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. Is it me, or do you just get dumber?”

One of the best pieces of advice she ever gave me was to hire a babysitter for a few hours a week so that I could take some time for myself, and that’s exactly what we did. Jon put an ad in the paper and we interviewed several potential candidates, and WOWEE was that ever an experiment in trying to keep our jaws from falling off our faces and bouncing on the floor. Some of the people who responded to the ad were just total nutjobs, people you would not trust with your pet rock let alone your infant, and I’m not even kidding, one woman casually mentioned that her sixteen-year-old daughter was pregnant and her eighteen-year-old son was in prison. BUT THAT’S NOT EVEN THE END OF IT. I guess she was excommunicated from the Mormon church because of some horrible indiscretions THAT SHE’D RATHER NOT TALK ABOUT. When all we asked was, “Tell us a little about yourself.”

Turns out that we hired the first person who responded to the ad, a delightfully fresh-faced eighteen-year-old named Katey who could speak in complete sentences and didn’t have a criminal record. I think I’ve mentioned her on this website a couple of times (let’s see, here and here and here). I even thank her in the acknowledgements section of my book for giving me the time that I needed to find the mind that I had lost. We loved how well she handled Leta, and Leta absolutely adored her. She worked for us for two years and then, well, I’m not going to get into too much detail, but things ended and there were tears and I think someone may have lost a limb and then there was that call from the president of Guyana and I had to go into hiding. The end.

And then about a year ago as my book deadline approached and my schedule starting getting crazier and crazier we realized that the only way anything was ever going to get done was by hiring someone to help out. So in June of 2008 The Blurbodoocery decided to hire its first employee, an assistant, and since I’d made amends with the government of Guyana through several months of arduous negotiations involving lawyers, heavy artillery, and one very cooperative Norwegian pole dancer (don’t ask), I called up Katey and asked if she’d like to quit the job she was working and come work for us. I may have actually pleaded, bribed, cried and/or clung to her leg. She agreed on one condition: that I pay her money. And I was all SOME PEOPLE! Can you believe the nerve?

And she’s been every bit the perfect employee we thought she’d be, managing everything from the schedule of my book tour to keeping our business lives organized to handling press inquiries. And you may be wondering why I haven’t yet mentioned her? Why has it taken this long? And here’s where I remind you about that one time I got fired for talking about work on my website. Remember that? Yeah, well, I’m still pretty tender in that area and think you should be very careful when you write about work on the Internet, whether you’re the employee or the employer, and since this was my first time being on the employer end I was all NO WAY NO HOW. Even now as I write this I feel like Elmer Fudd tiptoeing through the forest, like I’m about to step on a bomb or something, and what if Katey reads this, calls me into her office and says, “We need to have a talk.” And next thing you know I’m being walked to my car with all my belongings in a cardboard box.

All of this was a roundabout way of getting to the part last August when one afternoon she comes running into my office with a freshly-peed on pregnancy test, a spare one I’d had lying around, one whose box and instructions I had long thrown away. And her hand is shaking so badly that I can barely make out what line is going in which direction, and she’s all IS THIS POSITIVE?! And I’m all HOW SHOULD I KNOW, WHERE ARE THE INSTRUCTIONS? And she’s all ARMSTRONG, IF YOU WEREN’T PAYING MY SALARY I’D HIT YOU OVER THE HEAD WITH THIS THING.

So we immediately google pregnancy tests, and I look at her and she looks at me and I’m all I SURE HOPE YOU DON’T GET A SCREAMER.

That was six weeks before I got pregnant, and so here’s where we take a moment of silence to honor Jon and what he had to endure for the following nine months as he basically lived with two pregnant women. Double the complaining and bitching and neurotic pacing over the weight gain. Seriously, how do polygamists do it? I mean, at least Jon could drink. Polygamists not only do it willingly, THEY DO IT SOBER.

Anyway, Katey casually mentioned one day that she was thinking about trying to have a natural childbirth, and I was all, oh honey, that’s what we all say. And then we get hit with that one whammy contraction and realize that God made epidurals for a reason! Because I know so many women, myself included, who think in our first pregnancies that we’ll just “see how things go.” And that if we’ve overestimated our threshold for pain we’ll give in to the possibility of pain relief. Ha! No, let me restate that: HA! There is nothing in life that you can really compare to the pain of labor, NOTHING, so the “idea” of your threshold for pain is as useless as a piece of shit.

And I may have actually said those words to her. You know, because I’m encouraging that way. And then I finished that sentiment with YOU’RE TOTALLY FUCKING INSANE.

Except Katey did what many of us did not do during our first pregnancies: she prepared! She researched! She hired a doula! And not once did she mention any of this to me, not once did she ever try to preach to me or change my mind, and there I was shaking my head in my brain thinking THERE IS NO WAY she has any idea what she’s in for. So you can imagine her surprise when one day about three weeks before she was due she got a text message from me that said, “Hey… um… yeah… so… I think I want to try and have a natural childbirth.”

Her response was to call Jon and tell him that someone had stolen my phone and was texting her with it.

A couple of weeks later I get a frantic phone call from Katey’s mother at 7:30AM saying that she’s been at the hospital since midnight. She’d been having painful contractions all day, decided finally to head to the hospital, and when they took her blood pressure and found it to be dangerously high they put her on pitocin immediately to make sure labor continued. At this point I hear a noise in the background unlike any noise I have ever heard in my life, a combination of a growl, a roar, and a murderous yawping. I ask Katey’s mother if there is a lion in the room with them who is busily eating a rather talkative jackal while simultaneously groaning out a bowel movement.

Oh no, no lion, that’s just Katey in the background who has refused any and all pain medication.

Now, wait a minute.

She’s been at the hospital for how long? Almost eight hours. And how long has she been hooked up to pitocin? All eight of those hours. And how far dilated is she? A three.


A THREE???????

For those of you familiar with labor and delivery you will understand why I capitalized those letters and used seven question marks. For those unfamiliar you should understand that when you’re in labor and you ask the nurse how far dilated you are, there’s only one right answer: TEN. All other answers are wrong because it means you’re not done yet.

Katey had SEVEN MORE CENTIMETERS TO GO. SEVEN. One, two, three…. do you see where I’m going with this? And she’d already been in hard, uncomfortable labor for eight hours, and then a day of awful contractions before that… who knew how long this could go on. It could go on for days. Maybe years. She could be the first person in the history of the world to labor FOREVER. YOU NEVER KNOW.

So I’m thinking, hey, I’ll take my time, eat my breakfast, take Leta to school and obey all traffic laws on my way up to the hospital with the idea that when I get there she’ll have progressed a few more centimeters. Except thirty minutes later the phone rings. And I don’t recognize the number. And when I say hello the person on the other end doesn’t say a word of English for a few sentences and then goes, “NINE!”

And I go, “I’m sorry, but you have the wrong number.”

And Katey’s mom goes, “HEATHER! SHE’S AT A NINE!”

Turns out that when they broke her water she dilated six more centimeters almost instantly, and there I am throwing on clothes, running red lights, parking like I’m blind, and hauling ass from the garage to the desk at labor and delivery. I tell them I’m there for Katey Kendall, and I’m not kidding, all four people behind the desk whip around and go, “Another one?”

Turns out there are more people in Katey’s delivery room than there are in the city of Boise, Idaho. No, really. Like hundreds of them. Every person she ever thought about being related to? They are in that room. And when I open the door there is not a word being said, not a noise being made, it is as quiet as the pause between words in a prayer. I turn my head to see a sweat-drenched Katey lying on the hospital bed surrounded by her sisters, and without even thinking, in the middle of all that silence I go, “YOU ARE A TOTAL FUCKING CHAMP!”

I think this is what my therapist would refer to as me getting dumber.

Just then a contraction hits Katey, and like a well-oiled machine her sisters jump into action. They are all pushing on her body at different strategic points, and as Katey growls and mumbles and digs down into her gut to survive the pain, everyone else is calling out from different corners of the room, “You’re doing it!” or “That’s awesome!” or “Keep it up!” The cheering and pushing and growling continue for what seems like a couple of minutes, what must have seemed like eternity for Katey, and when it’s apparent that the contraction has ended, the room immediately sinks right back into silence. No one talks. Every single person is focused on Katey’s next move.

This goes on for another hour and a half, because even though she is dilated to a nine a lip has formed at the cervix and is refusing to budge. Katey is miserable, her hair is completely soaked with sweat, and you can hear that her vocal chords are shredded from all the groaning. At one point during a contraction she yells, “Please! PLEASE! JUST HELP ME!” And I want to cry, her mother is bawling, and everyone else is cheering, “You can do this! YOU’RE DOING THIS! HANG IN THERE!”

The rest of this story goes like many other birthing stories, because when it was time to push she pushed like a champion, and I happened to be one of the lucky ones in the room to have a view of the baby as she came out, first her head and then her right arm came flying out, like, “Ta da! Here I am!” And then everyone in the room started crying. They named her Lily Blanche.

But what I guess makes this story quite different than any other birth I’ve personally attended or seen is the reverence with which every single person in that room treated the experience. It was like church in there, and for the hour and a half that I witnessed it, I just couldn’t believe it. It almost didn’t seem real. And as much as it was Katey’s experience and everything that she had hoped it would be, it’s what she gave to the rest of us that I won’t ever forget. Because we all had to come together, all four hundred and eighty of us, for her. We all gained something incredible from forming that community around her.

And the courage that she showed, the endurance, the sheer power of getting through contraction after contraction, I was just so inspired, so touched to be so close to something so primal and raw and vulnerable as she was during those hours, so thankful that she let me be a part of it. And I knew I would never be the same person after having witnessed it.

I got home about an hour later, my face a mess of tears and snot, and told Jon, “I can’t wait to give you what that birth just gave me.”


Part three, the final installment, coming soon. Right now I’ve got a cute baby who is giving all her smiles to Jon, and that’s just not at all fair.

  • This is beautiful. My yoga teacher from teacher training is also a doula and studying to be a mid-wife. She talked about how babies secret a chemical that makes people love him/her when they are born. This chemical affects everyone in the room, not just the parents. It seems a little lu-lu to hear or think about, but this story proves there’s something to it.

  • What a fantastic story.

  • Damn it, dooce. I don’t give a crap what the haters say, THIS SHIT RIGHT HERE is what it is all about. I friggin love ya.

  • Timmi

    Sounds kind of like my birth experience, only funnier.

  • Jennifer :)

    My husband and I thank God everyday for the Armstongs.

    I must confess I want Katey’s job. My resume is on file just in case Jon needs a personal assistant any time soon.

    My father calls Heather an Angel, and you too Jon. It might be because he has actually seen Heather Fly 🙂

    Katey would not be where she is today without all your love and support. Thank you, Thank you,Thank you.


    Katey’s Parents and Family

  • Janet!


  • cindy in ct.

    That was the best damn birth story I’ve ever heard.

  • Anonymous

    I wish I could’ve done it. I wanted a natural birth so bad, and I didn’t make it. Turns out the botched epidural I received put my daughter’s life in danger, too. I wish I could go back and do things differently and have the strength. I think having more supportive people around me would’ve made a huge difference. My admiration to all women who do the natural childbirth thing!!

  • Bianca

    First time caller here…

    Great birthstory so far- part one *and* part 2.

    I have attended many natural births as a midwife apprentice and/or doula and could never quite put them into words like you have so beautifully. It is indeed a gift to witness such a thing, and to experience.

    My two homebirths were the hardest thing I have ever done, and the most satisfying.

    I also love your description of first time moms saying “well, I’ll see how it goes, and if I can’t handle it, I’ll get the epi!” That is indeed a one-way ticket to and epidural for 99% of us as labor fucking hurts, no two ways about it.

    So happy for Katie and for you. I cannot wait to hear part three.

  • “…and told Jon, ‘I can’t wait to give you what that birth just gave me.'”

    …That is such a powerful statement. It could possibly be the secondary title to your birthing book. Or perhaps the movie you’ll make with Ricki Lake. 🙂

    I am eagerly awaiting Part 3. Thank you for being so open with your journey. You’re creating a great gift for Marlo.


  • Kristine

    Katey IS a total fucking champ. For keeping y’all organized, as well as the birthing.
    You, too.

  • Leigh Anne

    Wonderful birth story! Katey is one amazing woman…she had her natural, drug free birth WITH PITOCIN…What a trooper!

  • Liz

    Dude! I’m weeping and covered in goosebumps and I’m supposed to be looking for a job. Instead I’m going to go watch tv and read decorating magazines. Thanks a lot!

  • Lisa

    Wow. Ohmygosh. Wow.

    Pure reverance for Katey…especially coming from someone who studied and prepared for natural childbirth for months for my first, but ended up weeks early with an emergency C-section and a preemie, who thankfully, turned out to be very healthy little girl–Katie.

    Katey rocks.

  • karishma

    BEAUTIFUL story. and what an adorable child! katy sounds amazing, so glad she’s around. you know what would be awesome? a guest post from her. it sounds like she’s part of your family.

  • I love that the 26th most influential woman in media is championing unmedicated birth. (For the record, when it’s needed (ho so very, very rarely) medicine is fine and all births are “natural.”) But nothing beats the high you get from doing it without drugs. I truly hope you have an influence in this area Heather.

    Great stories!!

  • Erin

    You tell a great story, Heather. I’m pregnant with my first and due in November. Right now the birth plan is to hold off on the pain meds for as long as possible. I’m just terrified that if it hurts too badly for too long, this poor little boy won’t ever get a sibling. 😛

  • Erica spencer

    I rarely comment on your blog, why do you want to read another comment from another reader…

    Anyway, I just have to say, I cried when reading this beautiful post. Not just tears, but full on crying. Amazing birth story. Thank you for sharing this. Beautiful.

    This is why I read your blog.

  • Katey, you ARE a champ!

  • I love how you let yourslef crack and have a different opinion, it’s amazing to me how frackin stuck in my opinions I can get without realizing it…and I’m only 34, so I can’t be like ‘ IN MY DAY ‘ because it kind of IS my day.

    My son Dakota was a Potocin birth without pain meds, and I can tell you it’s the way Satan punishes bad people in hell. But my story is similar to Katie’s- the room was full of people, wonderful sweet people, and I was young-20- and I was brave ( I screamed like a pig, but I did it)

    My daughter Lola was born au natural, in a tub, with candles and family and a midwife in San Diego’s birthing center…and it was amaaaazing. I coslept and nursed forevah and am so glad I had the experiences I did.

    Thanks for the great read, Heather

    Maggie May

  • Yet another post I read aloud to my husband. We laughed until we had tears in our eyes…remembering the birth of our now grown daughters.

    As for the being in therapy part, I practiced psychotherapy in SLC for 12 years, now coaching and practicing psychotherapy in Tennessee. I LOVE hearing about such kick ass therapists!

  • I don’t even know what to say. Amazing. You may have just changed my mind about going natural. A feat to be revered.

  • what a gorgeous story. I’m going for a vbac and have three weeks to my due date. Katey is quite an inspiration. I can’t wait to have my own natural birth story!!!!

    PS. Please write part three before my baby comes. I’m pregnant, I can be demanding right?

  • Anonymous

    So, I’ve never commented on any of your posts (despite reading your blog since 2004). But something about this one has compelled me to do exactly that. And actually there have a been a few recent posts that have made me feel that way. This story is literally making me feel like I need to have a FOURTH child just so that I can have that experience of pure, raw childbirth! Every time the intention was there. It really was. But, I didn’t ever go into it fully prepared. And it makes me kind of sad. Obviously I’m not going to go and make another baby for that experience. That would be stupid wouldn’t it? But, I wanna. But, I won’t. Can’t wait to hear your story! I’m sure you will inspire so many people to take that route. You just have that ability!

  • Larkspur

    Great post.

    Anonymous #62, congratulations on birthing your babies. I don’t happen to share your opinion that “Ye gods, this topic is totally worn out”, but I do agree that however the babies get here is fantastic, whether it’s with an epidural or a c-section or an unknown circumstance because you met your baby in China.

    I don’t even have children, and it’s too late for me. But I still loved this story because it’s a great story, and not for one moment do I think it detracts from the stories of how anyone else arrived into the world.

  • Leigh

    I’m all crying and stuff. I have been waiting for part two, and I am not disappointed. I have two boys, one whom is turning two years on the first, and my baby who will be three months on the eighth. You are such a reminder to me that there are others out there doing what I am doing, and I cant thank you enough for that. Second baby has taken some adjusting, and I have some dark days. Thanks so much for your writing, since I just found you(thanks to reruns of oprah in the summer) I often read the archives at night between feedings. again,

  • Abby

    What a beautifully written story of Lily’s birth! I am in tears, in the best way possible. Thank you for sharing that, and congrats to Katey and her family!

  • What a wonderful recollection of a beautiful moment.

    Looking forward to part three!

  • Wow! What an experience! And Katy was so nice to bare her lady parts to be able to share it with you all!

  • That photo of Lily just made me want to have, like, 100 children. Adorable! And after reading Katey’s labor story, it almost makes me want to deliver naturally someday.


  • Katey is a rock star!!!! Nothing but total respect for the girl!!!!!!

    I hope I have the balls to stick it out in round two! I allowed the doctors to have control last time, and I’m still pissed! Just wait until next time, I hope they pee their pants!

  • murphy

    Heather, you’re such an AMAZING writer! That was un-put-down-able, ie, if it were on a piece of paper, I would not be able to put it down. Or, no one could put it down (criticize it) because it’s perfect.

    Brilliant writing, girl! Thanks for *that* experience!

  • Thanks so much! You always make my day! Do you have to have some kind of a consent form to put people on your site?

  • Sarah

    Please give Part 3 in a jiffy! I’ve been patiently waiting for your Part 2. I was shocked when you told us all you went natural. I can’t wait to hear it all. How many parts are there? Hooray for Katie and Lily!

  • Joyce

    Thank you. This is why I have followed you for so many years. Congrats to Katey!

  • How fantastic! I hope that one day I can witness someone else give birth. Maybe it will be my own daughter give birth to my grandchild…and maybe if I had seen someone give birth naturally I would have had the confidence that I could do it as well.

  • That child has beautiful eyes.

  • I know we’re talking about birth and birthing and labour and stuff, but I would just like to put it out there that Katey. Is. Stunning.


    In a way that is unassuming and confident and spry and marvelous. And that’s all from the photo. I continued reading your (her) story and pausing to scroll up to the picture again and again. She makes this post come alive. With her eyes, somehow.

  • Wow, seriously, wow. Can’t wait for part III.

  • Elana E

    Women are amazing! We make people! Men may make more money, but we make PEOPLE! Katey is a beautiful girl. Piercing eyes. She did something amazing. I hope she knows that. Her daughter is beautiful and she got a good beginning. She is an inspiration. A goddess!

  • Julie

    Amazing beauty. Every bit of it. Thank you so much for sharing 🙂

  • Liz

    That baby is so beautiful. Having just gone through child birth a few months ago, I’m both amazed and appalled by the idea of natural childbirth. Amazed because it seems like such a brave thing to do, and appalled because I was begging for my epidural like three weeks before going into labor.

  • Tonya

    Katey is a total rock star and for the love of all that is holy, woman, get part 3 written up stat.

  • What a great service you are doing, letting people know that birth can be hard and painful and amazing and transformative – a true gift. There is no euphoria like it. I love that you are helping bring natural childbirth into the mainstream. Its not just for pain-loving hippies anymore!

  • Craig

    Damn, Heather, I’m crying at work again.

  • Anonymous

    Katey is a rockstar!

    I was not very loud during my labor, despite the lack of drugs. But instead of waiting patiently and silently, my audience (doula, husband, doctor) discussed the weather. Not kidding, the weather! I was thinking to myself “dude! having a baby over here! what’s a gal gotta do to get some attention!” But all my energy was going into labor and I could not get any words to come out of my mouth. Still, it was a beautiful experience.

    Thanks for sharing all this. And thanks to Katey for allowing you to share her story as well.

  • Oh man, Heather, you are such a freakin TEASE! An important part of the story though, and at nearly 7 months pregnant, you’ve definitely got me thinking about my birth plan. You gotta finish this story before I go into labor though!

  • Now that I’ve read and re-read your post, I’ve got to ignore the chorus of drumbeats from my biological clock. My uterus and ovaries are reaching out to strangle me in my sleep.

    I’m posting again because I’ve made my mind up: I’m going natural. It makes no sense to “medicalize” the process… Except to make sure that mother and baby are safe.

  • Larkspur

    Umm, does Katey have a blog? Don’t worry: it’s like having a second child – you don’t love one more than the other, there’s just a never-ending abundance of love, kinda self-generating.

  • missy

    Katey is a rockstar. That is incredible. Pitocin, 12 hour labor AND drug free. Unbelievable. She and that little Lily are beautiful!

    I love that her birth story is a part of yours. Exactly how womanhood should be.

    And lastly, I still feel a slight adrenaline rush after giving birth drug-free…and that was 10 months ago.

Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

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