Billy Joel was playing Shea Stadium — concerts that were being billed as the “last play at Shea” since he would be, what else, the last artist to play the stadium before it was knocked down. The concerts were scheduled for mid-July. I was due mid-June. I bought the tickets in March because I figured what would be the big deal about leaving a month-old baby with her grandma? I delivered a week late, though, which meant that Little Girl was only 25 days old on July 16th, the date of our concert. Still, no big deal, I thought. Boy, was I wrong.

It took me forever to leave the house. I kept asking if my mom was going to be okay. Little girl was so little. My mother shooed us out of the house. We got on the Long Island Rail Road, planning on transferring to a special line that only runs during Mets games and other events. We got there, meeting our close friends who are Billy fanatics like us. And everything went downhill from there.

I had a physical ache in my body wondering if the baby was okay. Elsewhere, on the stage, Billy was doing his best to thrill the crowd. And he did. Angry Young Man, My Life, Everybody Loves You Now, The Entertainer. The hits kept rolling. So did the stars. Tony Bennett came out for an amazing New York State of Mind. The crowd went wild. John Mayer was next to sing along to This is the Time. Don Henley came out for Boys of Summer, a tip of the hat to the Amazing Mets, Shea and its baseball heritage. Normally, I would have been singing and swooning and swaying along. Not this time, though. For example, I can’t remember if I stuck around for Pink Houses with John Mellencamp or if my husband told me about him.

Yes, I left. I left that amazing concert on that beautiful, historic summer night. I couldn’t concentrate on the music. I kept calling home. I wanted to see my little girl more than one of my favorite musical stars. I told my husband to stay (why should he waste what was a pretty expensive ticket) and jumped on the train by myself. I transferred at Jamaica — or was it Woodside, I can’t remember — and drove myself home. I then walked the two or so miles from the train station to my house. I beat my husband by maybe 30 minutes since he didn’t wait for the train and he had the car to drive home.

At the time, I thought I was insane. Why couldn’t I be away from my little girl for a few hours? She was in very capable hands. But when I calmed down a bit and did a little research I realized that my desire to see a great show was up against biology, and of course biology was going to win!

When babies are born we have chemicals like oxytocin, which is called “the hormone of love and bonding” that flow through our veins. Chemicals that trigger feelings. Chemicals that make us want to take care of and nurture our babies. Biology wants us to bond in a big way and keep those babies right next to our bodies so they can eat, grow and be happy. (In fact, one study links the first trimester levels of oxytocin in a woman to the level of bonding they have with their newborns. And another April 2010 study suggests we might be able to help autistic children recognize emotions by introducing oxytocin via nasal spray into the equation.)

And so, looking back at that crazy night I can finally forgive myself for being so erratic and missing out on such a historic night. Am I sorry I missed Piano Man where the entire crowd sang so loudly the stadium shook? Sure, but some things are bigger and stronger than Billy Joel. (Sorry, Billy!)

As inductions went up, so did C-sections.

I am a reality show watcher. I love E!, especially. The shows are so bad that they are good. My husband and I (okay, I) love yelling at the screen when people do really stupid things. But over the holidays, I was doing more than yelling. I actually started to cry. The show: Kendra, the spin-off of The Girls Next Door. The problem: they induced her a little early, resulting in a C-section. The entire time I was watching, I was telling at the screen: “Don’t do it! Inductions rarely work! You’re going to end up with a C-section.” Which is exactly what happened.

I’ve written about this before. According to the National Vital Statistics Report by the U.S. Department of Health & Human Services, the rate of inductions more than doubled over the past 20 years. It was 9.5 percent in 1990. It was 22.3 percent in 2006. I’ve also recounted the stats that The March of Dimes is trying to get out there: that babies shouldn’t come out until they are ready. Late preterm infants (babies born between 34 and 37 weeks) are:

• 6 times more likely than full-term infants to die in the first week of life (2.8 per 1,000 vs. 0.5 per 1,000)
• 3 times more likely to die in the first year of life (7.9 per 1,000 vs. 2.4 per 1,000)
• Often weigh between 4½ and 6 pounds, and they may appear thinner than full-term babies.
• Remain at higher risk than full-term babies for newborn health problems, including breathing and feeding problems, difficulties regulating body temperature, and jaundice
• More than three times as likely to develop cerebral palsy and are slightly more likely to have developmental delays than babies born full term.

But doctors continue to do scheduled inductions and, when those inductions fail, C-sections at 37 weeks. Some just skip the induction entirely and do the C-section from the start at 37, 38, 39 weeks. (And The March of Dimes and researchers says 38 and 39 weekers aren’t a good idea, either. Check out this great March of Dimes feature: Why The Last Weeks Count.)

Right now I’ve got a friend who is pregnant. She was due on January 7. She had a C-section with her first baby. Now she’s trying for a vaginal birth after cesarean (VBAC). Amazingly, her doctor is letting her go one week post-date. He knows that most first-time moms are a little late. (And since she never delivered vaginally, as far as her cervix is concerned she’s a first time mom.) I am so impressed with that doctor and with my friend. She’s been done for a while. She’s got a 19-month-old, and running around after him tires her out. But she wants to have a third baby, and she doesn’t want to take on all the risks that a second and third C-section entails. So she’s waiting. And the doctor isn’t pressuring her or pushing her.

I wish Kendra Wilkinson’s doctor was as kind. I wish he let her body do what it needed to do. Yes, her baby was large, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t have been able to deliver him. Or maybe he would have been one of the 15 percent of people who the World Health Organization expects will have C-sections. (Yes, that’s right. The WHO recommends that countries set a goal of a 15 percent C-section rate. Sort of stinks that, right now, the U.S. rate is 31 percent.) But she’ll never know, will she? In the meantime, if you’re reading this please think good thoughts for my friend. She’s only got 24 hours before her scheduled C-section.

Are you a mom? How did you deliver your baby? Did you have a choice? Did you ever feel pressure to do one thing over the other? Talk about it below.

Being born is hard enough. We need to give our babies the best chance possible.

I’ve written about it before: Both my kids were a week late. And both times my midwives and the doctors they worked with were pressuring me to induce. (Well, the second midwife not-so-much, but she did say she had to induce if I went past that weekend.) One high risk doctor told me he would have induced Keira, my youngest, at 37 weeks. If he had, she would have been classified a late preterm birth, one of a growing category of preterm babies here in the U.S.

You might not think a baby born at 37 weeks would be considered preterm, but it is. And unfortunately, even late preterm babies are at risk for a host of problems, according to the March of Dimes. Late preterm babies are:

• 6 times more likely than full-term infants to die in the first week of life (2.8 per 1,000 vs. 0.5 per 1,000)
• 3 times more likely to die in the first year of life (7.9 per 1,000 vs. 2.4 per 1,000)
• Often weigh between 4½ and 6 pounds, and they may appear thinner than full-term babies.
• Remain at higher risk than full-term babies for newborn health problems, including breathing and feeding problems, difficulties regulating body temperature, and jaundice
• More than three times as likely to develop cerebral palsy and are slightly more likely to have developmental delays than babies born full term.

That’s why, while it’s easy to be tempted into letting a doctor or midwife induce, it may not be in the best interest of moms or babies.

November is Premature Awareness Month. Want to learn more about why you should hold off whenever possible with artificial inductions? Here’s a quick Q&A with Janie Wilson, MS, RN, Women & Newborns Director of Nursing Operations at Intermountain Healthcare in Salt Lake City, Utah, a not-for-profit hospital system that is responsible for delivering 53 percent of all babies in that state. Recently, the organization implemented a program to reduce unnecessarily early labor inductions with amazing success.

KB: Why are so many women delivering via induction today?

JW: It’s a combination of doctors and women. Women don’t want to be pregnant anymore after 36 or 37 weeks. Meanwhile, if a doctor selectively induces you on Thursday morning, he or she won’t be at the hospital at 2 a.m. on a Saturday night.

KB: What’s the risk of inducing before 39 weeks?

JW: We, as a country, are electively inducing women at 39 weeks when their cervix isn’t ripened. But if you do this, those same women may have a long, protracted labor, along with an increased risk of C-section and morbidity.

KB: What has your hospital done about this?

JW: We’ve got a guideline that says we do not electively induce a first-time mom until they pass the 39-week mark and have a Bishop’s score of 10 out of 13. This score takes into account five components of a vaginal exam: cervical dilation, effacement, consistency, and position along with fetal station — how far down the baby’s head is. We require both because due dates are just an estimate.

KB: What would you tell an expectant mom who is consider induction — whether it’s coming from her or her doctor?

JW: Some women will go wherever the provider will lead them. But this is not like scheduling your nail appointment. You have to make your own decisions. There are associated risks and costs that go along with inducing early. If you wait until your body is actually ready to deliver you will generally have a much better outcome.

Just look at what we’ve accomplished. Since 1999, our percentage of all inductions before 39 weeks has dropped significantly, from approximately 28 percent to only 3.4 percent. We’ve also seen a 90-minute drop in the average length of labor in electively induced patients, with fewer emergency cesarean sections and other medical complications associated with deliveries. Our average length of stay has dropped three hours. Today, our primary C-section rate (the rate of first time moms) is almost zero. We have really changed our culture for the better. Women should demand the same outcomes for their own births.

The March of Dimes this week released its Premature Birth Report cards. Alarmingly, the majority of states received an F; not a single state got an A. One state — Vermont — got a B. To learn more about prematurity, or to get involved with changing this dangerous paradigm, join the March of Dime’s National Advocacy Network by clicking here.

I got the flu not once but twice when I was pregnant with Keira. I coughed almost non-stop from January through March. It was horrendous. All that coughing lead to leaking. It was so bad that I tried using panty shields, pads, wash cloths, but nothing worked until I sent my husband out to get Depends. I was crushed. Wearing Depends in my 30s. How could this be? I spoke to my midwife who told me I would get better once I stopped coughing. It was stress incontinence, she said. She also said that — once the rather large baby wasn’t in there pressing down on my bladder — I’d stop even the little leaks, too. Keira was a big baby, but her older sister, who clocked in at 8 pounds, 5 ounces, had stretched the muscles of my pelvic floor. It was almost a given that I would leak when I coughed.

The pelvic floor muscles, which hang like a hammock from the public bone to your coccyx bone, support your internal organs, holding up your bladder, uterus, and bowel. They also control the muscles that open and close the anus, vagina, and urethra. Mine were obviously a little loose. Think about taking a rubber band and holding it in one place for ten months. Once you let go, it’s going to sag. And I had issues with my bladder before pregnancy, too. As someone who is very, very flexible, my muscles weren’t as tight as they could have been. I am definitely not alone, since one-quarter of all women — and one third of older women – report having issues with their pelvic floor. So what’s the cure? Here are a few ways to tone your nether regions.

• Kegel exercises. Simple Kegel exercises — tightening and releasing the pelvic floor muscles — can help strengthen everything down there, and get it working again. But you have to be consistent. I often forget to do my Kegels, because, as I have found, they can be really difficult to do. That’s why the easiest place to start is on the toilet. Stop and start your urine stream when you go to the bathroom. Once you identify the movement, which is sometimes described as pulling your vaginal muscles up and in, you can do it out of the bathroom, too. You don’t want to squeeze your butt or abs. You’ll know if you’ve got it because you’ll see a difference in your “response” time when you try and stop the flow. Plus, you may even feel a little sore in your lower abdomen. I will honestly say I barely got one or two in when I first started after having Keira because I couldn’t get my muscles down there to work. But if you keep it up, it does work. An October 2009 study found that 83 percent of women who did Kegel exercises reported a decrease in urinary incontinence. (Note to pregnant women: Kegels while pregnant can reduce the length of labor, and help prevent urinary incontinence, according to two separate studies.)
• Physical therapy. If you hurt you arm, you’d see a physical therapist to help rehabilitate it. PTs can also help women rehabilitate their pelvic floor muscles when they don’t want to do it alone. A recent study found that women can get wonderful results with this method. The physical therapist, who should have special training for this type of work, can help you find different exercises to strengthen your pelvic floor. You can find a practitioner by checking out FindaPT.us, and selecting Women’s Health in the pull-down menu.
• Biofeedback. I actually tried biofeedback when I was writing a story for Marie Claire. You get a device that looks like a small radio attached to a t-shaped probe. The probe goes where you think it would; you hold the radio-looking thing in your hand. You have to try and get a set of lights to light up by squeezing on the t-shaped thingy. The lights move up based on the amount of pressure you apply, and stay lit up based on duration. The stronger your muscle, the higher the lights will go, and the longer they will stay on. I can tell you when I did this experiment, I found that my muscles were sore after the first week! Doing Kegels correctly, which is essentially what I was doing, is really hard! But worth it. And now that I’ve met my deducible with my health insurance, I think I’m going to get a biofeedback machine of my own.
• Having an orgasm. One of the least-invasive ways to start strengthening your pelvic floor again is by having sex, and having an orgasm, according to Dr. Lauri J. Romanzi, a uro-gynecologist I have interviewed in the past.  “Orgasm and arousal brings blood into the region and promotes healing. The contractions of an orgasm help strengthen the muscles and help bring muscle tone back into the area,” she explained. While you’re probably going to need to do one of the other three options, it’s good to know you can get started improving things by taking matters into your own hands. (Or your partners, as my husband wanted me to point out.)
• Meditation. This one surprised me. According to a study from Loyola University, you can visualize and meditate to improve bladder control. “[Patients] then listen to an audio recording with a series of relaxation and visualization exercises at home twice a day for two weeks. Patients track the number of incontinence episodes that they experience in a pre- and post-therapy diary. The majority of patients, including Raisor, experienced a substantial improvement in symptoms.”  Wow. And cool! I’m looking forward to trying it out soon!

Have you had issues with incontinence or pelvic pain? How did you treat it? How long did it take? I’d love to hear about it.

Also, if you suffer from this problem, you might want to check out AccidentalSisterhood.com. To celebrate National Bladder Awareness Month, 3,000 copies of The Accidental Sisterhood book will be available on a first-come, first served basis during the month of November. Women may log on to www.AccidentalSisterhood.com and enter the promo code SOLUTION, or they can call 1-866-549-3250 to receive a free copy.

Me, on July 30, 2003. Katelyn was born October 8, 2003.

I am obsessed with all things related to pregnancy. I always have been. I read trashy-but-fun celebrity baby bump gossip. I quiz my friends about their impending childbirth. I get misty-eyed when I hear about a new baby or a new pregnancy. I’ve even written about the topic for magazines such as Parents, Shape, and Fit Pregnancy. So you’d think, because I have babies on the brain, that I probably loved it when I was actually pregnant myself. You’d be wrong. I hated every one of those 40 weeks. With all my being.

From the moment I found out until the moment I delivered I obsessed about not being pregnant. I was angry. I was depressed. Actually, I was more than depressed. When I found out I was carrying Katelyn, who was a planned pregnancy, I literally went off the deep end. My life was over. I would be huge. I would lose my career. I would lose myself. I was so anxious, sad and ambivalent about being pregnant that I ended up on a therapist’s couch for the final six months of my pregnancy. Of course, I felt guilty for having these terrible feelings, so that only made me feel worse. And as soon as my baby was delivered? I fell in love with her, and with being a mom. My midwife and my therapist were in agreement with their diagnosis. It — antepartum depression — is hormonal, and my experience was not that uncommon. Between 10 and 20 percent of women experience antepartum depression, but few talk about it. It’s often a precursor to postpartum depression, too.

I was lucky. I was pretty much cured once that little redhead came out of me. But I was thrown back into the chasm when I got pregnant again. At the time, Katelyn was only 18 months old. I went home numb from the sonogram holding a grainy picture of the baby. Again, the symptoms set in. I found myself stomping and crying around the house, saying I was ruining Katelyn’s life by bringing another baby into the picture so soon. Then, at 13 weeks, I miscarried. We found out at a routine visit. We couldn’t find a heart beat, something we saw only a few weeks prior. The guilt was overwhelming then. I felt like I wished that baby away.

We tried for several years to get pregnant again, even though I knew I was almost guaranteed to suffer the same symptoms. And we were blessed with my miracle baby — Keira — after we gave up trying. Yes, I went through the same horrific nightmare. This time it was even worse because I was told that I could literally die from carrying her. So I felt all the same emotional symptoms, but I also had another feeling: Intense guilt about putting Katelyn at risk. I didn’t want to leave her without a mother. And then the moment I went into labor I could hardly wait to meet my new baby. I look back at the delivery photos and can’t help but smile. I have never seen such pure love, exhilaration, and emotion on anyone’s face. It’s completely obvious how in love and excited I was to become a mom.

Becoming a mother — from the first moment you find out your pregnant to the first late night feeding — is supposed to be such a natural thing. We’re programmed by magazine covers and other women to think that pregnancy is wonderful, and mothering is instinctive. Women glow when they are pregnant, right? They dream about it like I did — and still do. They’re supposed to feel blessed when it happens. And yet that is not the experience of many people. Even those who aren’t afflicted with antepartum depression may, for example, hate the third trimester with all its aches and pains. They might pine for the day when their bodies are their own again. And that’s okay. That may be the most natural thing for them.

It seems like such a sin to be depressed about such a miracle. At least that how I saw it. But it’s a fact of life. It’s okay to hate being pregnant, and still love the outcome. Are you feeling sad about being pregnant? Talk it over with your doctor. She can shed light on any misconceptions you might have about your pregnancy or delivery. If you’re clinically depressed, she can refer you to a therapist who specializes in prenatal care. For example, some doctors are prescribing light box therapy—sitting in front of a specialized bright light for 30 minutes a day—to alleviate antepartum depression.

No matter what, though, don’t suffer silently. Broach the subject with other moms and moms-to-be. Chances are, they’ve felt the same way at one point during their pregnancy.

How did you feel when you were pregnant? What strategies did you use to get through it? Or were you, like some, blissfully happy? I’d love to hear your story.

Another healthy baby delivered by a midwife.

“I wish you would go to a real doctor.” We were standing in the kitchen. My mom had only found out I was pregnant a few days prior, and she was already haranguing me about my choices.

When I had Katelyn, I had a midwife. I also had a mental block—and an 8 pound, 5 ounce baby with a giant head– so while my labor was pain-free my birth experience was not what anyone would wish for. I was sore and bruised for weeks. I was anemic after losing so much blood. I looked like hell. I know she blamed my midwife.

This time, she had more to worry about. I had a midwife—someone new– but I also had a high risk pregnancy, and my mother was afraid that I would literally die because a doctor wouldn’t be the one catching the baby. She didn’t understand that my midwife, who I absolutely adore, was working hand-in-hand with several doctors the entire time making sure I had the best care possible. In fact, she made my pregnancy, labor, and delivery even better than it could have been if a doctor delivered Keira.

My midwife let me deliver at 41 weeks–Katelyn was a 41-weeker, too–all the while carefully monitoring me and the baby. (Although she told me on Friday, the day before I delivered, that if I wasn’t in labor by Monday she was going to induce.) Meanwhile, my high-risk specialist had been pushing for induction at 37 weeks. To this day I truly believe that my midwife’s simple trust in me and the process helped me avoid a C-section and a small baby since Keira was only 7 pounds, 3 ounces when she was born. She also fought to get me into a birthing room, and helped me have a delivery that I look back on with nothing but pride.

Still, my mom, like most other people, didn’t know what a midwife does—or even what a midwife actually is. If she had maybe she would have been a little more confident about my choices.

Do you know what a midwife does? Here are five facts that I wish everyone knew about midwifery.

1) A certified midwife (CNM) goes through a rigorous training program, which includes a hands-on internship.

A CNM is an advanced practice nurse. She must first attain a nursing license, which is a B.A. or a B.S. in nursing, and then undergo what is essentially a master’s program in midwifery. Once she completes the program, she must take a national certifying examination administered by the American Midwifery Certification Board (AMCB) to become a CNM. The program is unique because CNM candidates spend time interning—much like a doctor would—with other CNMs.

2) Midwives can—and do—spend more time with their patients.

“We do what doctors can’t,” says Jane Crawford Peterson, CPM/LM, who runs a midwifery practice called In the Beginning based in Iola, Wis. “We spend long periods of time at prenatal visits, which means we can hold a woman’s entire story. Our prenatal visits are often scheduled for an hour, so we talk not only about how the baby is doing, but what the woman does throughout the day. We can understand her goals for her birth. It’s not just about taking blood pressure. Clinical signs can be ascertained in 15 minutes. We’re focusing on more than just physical health.”

I know one of the things I loved about having a midwife was—unlike my friends who labored with a random labor nurse they had just met—she was prepared to stay with me the entire time I was in labor. I like to be alone during labor, so she went off to sleep for a bit, but she was the one who checked my progress. And she was there the entire time I was pushing. She was also the one who delivered my baby. Plus I knew there wouldn’t be any bait and switch nonsense going on. The person who gave me my prenatal care was the person who delivered my babies, unlike many of my friends who had to take whichever doctor happened to be on call when they went into labor.

3) Midwives have a lower rate of Cesarean sections.

It may be because doctors don’t think C-sections are a big deal—a recent study found that “sixty-five percent of midwives considered the rates of cesarean section in their hospitals to be too high compared with 34 percent of obstetricians.”  Or maybe it’s because doctors induce labor far more often than midwives, or that they are more likely to prescribe epidurals. Whatever the reason, fewer women cared for by midwives have C-sections.

4) Midwives respect and work with doctors—and most doctors respect them, too.

“I have 18 physicians who I routinely consult with. I stand firmly in liking the fact that I hold hands with physicians so that smooth transitions can occur in the event that something unexpected pops up during the pregnancy or birth,” says Crawford Peterson. (And as crunchy-granola as I am, I wouldn’t work with a midwife who didn’t have this type of arrangement.)

5) Midwives can do everything a doctor can except prescribing medicine and ultrasounds and doing operations.

When I ripped giving birth to Katelyn my midwife was the one who sutured me up. Prenatally, she did all my exams. She looked at my lab work. She did my postpartum exams. I felt taken care of, respected, and heard. It was a wonderful thing. Plus, since she works directly with a group of wonderful doctors I knew that, in the event of an emergency, I was in great hands no matter what.