Vegan Birth Stories

Please read our collection of birth stories. If you'd like to submit your own, please submit your story here. Vegan or vegetarian birth stories are welcome.

Ashlynn's Birth Story

Ashlynn's due date was June 26th, 2003, and as that Thursday came and went, my husband and I were starting to get really discouraged. I had been into the hospital twice a week for testing for three weeks previous due to problems with low amniotic fluid. Her fluid levels kept fluctuating, so it seemed like every other visit, the staff at the testing center would tell us to prepare to be induced the next visit, only to find that the fluid had increased when we went back. It was like riding a true roller coaster. I was getting more and more uncomfortable and impatient by the day. I wasn't sleeping well, couldn't move very quickly, and it got to the point where even walking was uncomfortable. It felt like I had been pregnant forever!

Ever since I found out I was pregnant, I had been planning and preparing for a natural childbirth- a birth without pain medication and with as little medical intervention as possible. I went through three health care providers before I found one I really trusted, and I read everything I could find on the topic, ending up with quite a collection of books on the topic. I read every birth story I could get my hands on, and spent a lot of time planning for, visualizing, and talking about what I hoped would be my perfect birth experience. Having been induced with my first daughter, Abby, I really wanted the experience of going into labor naturally, especially because I knew that being induced is a lot harder route to take, physically. My husband Tom had taken a five week block off from school, anticipating that the baby would be born by the time that he had to return on the 10th of July, and we were both really nervous about having a baby and then having him starting back to school the same week. With all the testing and things that we were doing, we were anticipating a birth right around the due date, but when the tests started looking really good about a week before she was born, all of a sudden we were faced with the idea of going to 41-42 weeks, and I was really discouraged! At the my Dr's appointment that came right before my due date, the Dr said he would talk induction with us after my due date had passed- and they were figuring my due date for Saturday the 28th. Tom and I talked and talked about it, and basically decided that if we hadn't had a baby by the Tuesday appointment, we would schedule the induction- and we wanted to do it on the 4th of July, thinking that would be a really fun day to have a birthday. But I was still stressed out the possibility of induction- it really wasn't what I wanted or what I planned on, but I knew that we had made the right plans. I was praying every night that my body would know what to do, and that I wouldn't have to be induced. I was really struggling to have faith that my body knew what to do, even though I was already three centimeters dilated and about 50% effaced, and was having some painless contractions almost every day.

I slept okay that night, but I do remember waking up several times to go to the bathroom, feeling kind of yucky and crampy, but I was too tired to read anything into it. Abby woke up really early Sunday morning, and we took her downstairs to watch a video so that we could sleep awhile longer. When we did get up, I wasn't feeling very well- it just felt like my body was overtired and worn out. It was a beautiful day- I could tell it was going to be hot, but the mornings as still cool, and the sky outside our window was blue with just a few clouds. I thought briefly that it would be a beautiful day to have a baby; not that I would have complained at that point if it was pouring rain! I was still feeling a little bit tired, and a little bit off physically, so after reading for awhile, I laid my head back on the couch and started dozing a little bit. I noticed a contraction, but it felt like all the others had for the past few weeks- I could tell it was a contraction because my belly started tightening involuntarily, and it gradually built up to a peak, and then subsided. I dozed off, and then felt another one not too much later. I remember asking Tom what time it was- 9:16. I still wasn't too excited; I had had fairly regular contractions before and nothing ever came of it. I laid on the couch and waited for awhile, but didn't feel any more contractions, so I decided that it was probably time to start getting things ready for church.

I knew that Abby was going to be tired, so I brought her upstairs and rocked her for a little while, hoping that she would take an early nap and then be okay all through church. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep- we rocked and I sang some songs quietly. I remember feeling particularly close to her, and very grateful for quiet moments like that- she was laying her head against my chest with her hair falling across her closed eyes, and I started to feel pretty emotional. I had been aware for a few days that our time together as just the three of us was ending, and that however wonderful it was going to be to have another person in our family, and no matter how much our new daughter would be loved and cherished, I knew that things were never going to be the same, and that as our family dynamic shifted, and Abby got older, that there would be less and less quiet moments like this. When I moved her into her bed for her nap, I knelt by her bed for a little while and rubbed her back, then leaned over a kissed her, loving the sight of my sweet daughter sleeping peacefully.

I got in the shower with Tom, and I started feeling a few more contractions; still irregular and painless, and most were pretty short too. I told him what was going on, and he smiled, saying that we should stay home from church and see if we "could get things moving." (I think he just wanted an excuse to stay home from church and have sex!) I knew that if I stayed home, expecting labor to start and then nothing happened, I would be terribly disappointed, and I had also committed to playing the piano that day. As I was getting ready, I felt a few more light contractions, but didn't even bother timing them because I knew that when it was serious enough for me to start timing them that I would know. After all, contractions are supposed to hurt, right? (Hah!)

Tom decided to stay home from the first part of church so that Abby could stay asleep, and I grabbed the keys and drove the short distance to our church so that I could be on time. I got to the children's class where I was supposed to play and the leaders smiled gently at me and I smiled back, half wondering if I was going to have a baby that day. I didn't want to say anything about the contractions I as having- I didn't want to feel like people were hovering over me, and I didn't want to jinx myself! I listened through the lesson, my mind only half on what was being said. I had noticed that I was having quite a few contractions, and started watching the clock. I raised my eyebrows a little bit when I realized that hey were coming five minutes apart- almost exactly corresponding with the number on the clock. One came at 11:15, one at 11:20, one at 11:25, and kept coming regularly. Some lasted as long as forty-five seconds or so, but some were a little shorter, none of them hurt, and none of them were more than just my belly tightening, like all the contractions I had had previously.

I noticed the contractions stopped at 11:45, and I didn't have one for about fifteen minutes after that. I was disappointed, but not too much. I thought that they might start again later that day or the next. When a break came, I got in a conversation with a few of the leaders, and jokingly told them that I had been having contractions all through the first hour. They all started giving me panicked looks telling me that "I could leave if I needed to," and that "maybe I should just go home" (probably should have!) and to tell them if I needed to leave. I brushed it off, thinking that I shouldn't have even said anything- that I would feel really silly if nothing happened and had all these women falling all over themselves for nothing. Besides, I hadn't felt a contraction for awhile and was convinced that nothing was happening. I went out in the hall for a drink of water and to stretch my legs, and was standing by the water fountain when I felt my first hard contraction. It was an interesting feeling- it didn't feel like the ones where my belly tightened. This was more like an aching hurt in my pelvis, and although it didn't last very long, I definitely couldn't keep walking or do anything else during the contraction besides just stand there and breathe through it. I went back into the primary class, and couldn't concentrate much on what was being said. I had a few more of the serious contractions and couldn't get comfortable on that hard piano bench. The contractions definitely were getting my attention by now- I had to really concentrate. Just before they turned the time over to us for music time, I knew I needed to go home. I motioned to one of the leaders and told her that I needed to go home, and she called up one of the teachers that also played piano to play for me. I went out into the hall and the president met me out in the hall with a concerned and slightly panicked look on her face. I still felt a little silly, and didn't necessarily think that I was in labor, but I wanted to go home to get more comfortable, and told her that I was probably okay, but just felt like I should go home. I was incredibly grateful at this point that I had decided to drive the short distance to church at this point.

By the time I got to the van, I had had two more contractions, and when I got home and opened the gate into our driveway, I had another one. I could barely move through the contractions, and was completely annoyed that I had to get out of the van to open the gate. I knew at this point that I was either in labor, or a very good imitation of it! I walked in the house slowly and was met by Abby running through the house at breakneck speed, a huge grin on her face when she saw me. I told Tom that I was having some pretty serious contractions and that I thought that I was probably in labor. His eyes lit up and he asked me what we needed to do.

The first thing I thought of was calling my parents- their church started at one, and if I wanted to have any prayer of having someone to watch Abby when we needed to go to the hospital, I knew we needed to put them on alert. I was in the bedroom while Tom was on the phone with my mom. Another contraction hit, and I was kneeling on the floor, holding on to the bed. I could hear him tell my mom to take the cell phone with them to church, but after the contraction subsided, I said that someone needed to come now. I could tell that my contractions were building rapidly, and figured by the time a half hour passed and my mom got there, it would be time to leave for the hospital. Tom told me that my mom was going to come, but couldn't leave right away. I started another contraction while he was telling me all of this, and got so frustrated that he was trying to talk to me. It was like his voice and everything else faded into the background- all I could feel was this giant force within my pelvis, and I told him, probably unkindly, to not talk to me until the contraction was over.

I tried going out to our rocking chair in our front room- kneeling on the floor and draping myself over the ottoman or back of the rocking chair had been a huge help alleviating the back pain that I had experienced my last trimester. Abby saw what I was doing and thought it was all a game- "Mom's spinning on the rocking chair!" and tried to help me spin around. I yelled for Tom to come and get her- luckily, when he called she went running back down the hall. Another contraction hit, and I couldn't help but moan through it- the pain was increasing with each contraction, and the sound just started coming out, almost involuntarily. The rocking chair wasn't working, and I was so frustrated, because I couldn't seem to get control of the pain that I was feeling. I had envisioned being in perfect control throughout labor- meditative and quiet- instead, I was pacing through the house, and one of the things that I thought would help the most didn't do a thing! I couldn't get control of myself, my breathing, or my response and I was starting to get frustrated because the pains were coming faster than my ability to cope with them. I searched my head for more options- the bathtub was the next thing that came to mind. I had pictured spending a lot of time in the hot water in labor, so I decided to give it a shot.

I told Tom I wanted him to fill the bath so I could get in, and he hesitated, but decided not to argue with a woman in labor. I got undressed, left my clothes all over the floor, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, glad that I had done my hair and put on makeup- I would look nice when I had this baby! (It's amazing the random, jumbled thoughts that come through my head between contractions!) I got in the water, and waited for the relief that everyone tells me they feel when they get in the water during labor. Nothing. I couldn't get comfortable for the life of me, and it seemed like every time I tried to shift positions, another contraction would come and leave me powerless to move. Abby came in, and seeing me in the tub, started beaming. "Mama naked!" she said with glee. Then it was "Belly? Baby?" in her sweet voice, while touching my belly gently. Tears filled my eyes- I wondered briefly if she somehow knew what was about to happen, and I knew that my baby Abby wasn't going to be my baby much longer. I kissed her cheek gently and told her that Mama was going to have a baby today, and that I loved her so much, no matter what happened. Then I yelled for my husband to take her downstairs and put on a video for her or something. I couldn't handle her being such a distraction.

I was getting so irritated that I couldn't get on top of things, and during another pause, focused on some of the things I had read in "Birthing From Within" about coping with pain. I had thought previously that non-focused awareness was something that would work well, and I had practiced it a lot, but when I tried to shut out what was going on and listen and observe as she advised, I couldn't do it. I was watching the shower curtain, trying to find a focus point, and couldn't get on top of the pain. I was still moaning, trying to keep it low pitched (a la Ina May,) and wasn't having much success with that happening either. I felt something come out of me, and saw some mucus floating in the tub, and then I felt my water release. A few seconds later I noticed that the water in the tub was turning slightly green and started to panic a little bit, knowing that it was probably meconium in the amniotic fluid. Tom had just come back upstairs, and I breathlessly directed him where to find the number for the Dr. on call for the weekend because I wanted to know what to do about the meconium. I heard him talking with the answering service and started getting really annoyed. Didn't they know that I was in labor? I wanted them to get the Dr. now! I had the strongest contraction up to this point just as Tom got off the phone, telling me that the Dr. on call was going to call me back. I knew then that we needed to get to the hospital as soon as we could. In the next brief pause in between contractions, I told Tom we needed to leave for the hospital as soon as we could and he needed to go get someone from church to watch Abby. He was on his way out the door when I told him to leave the phone where I get to it in case the Dr. called back. (Another random thought- how was I going to talk to the Dr. when my contractions were so close together? I'm glad that he didn't call back while my husband was gone.)

He got back from the church a lot quicker than I thought he would- and I was grateful. (Later he told me about running into the service in shorts and a t-shirt, motioning to a friend of ours. It turned quite a few heads!) I really didn't want to be left alone anymore. I was starting to panic- I was so afraid that I was going to get to the hospital and have hours and hours of labor left to go. I wasn't coping well at all with the contractions- they were overwhelming me more and more with each consecutive contraction, and I just couldn't get a hold of myself and my reactions to the pain. I wondered why in the world I had thought natural childbirth was such a good idea- I wasn't enjoying this at all. I wasn't meditating or anticipating the birth like I had thought I would be- I didn't feel beautiful or powerful, I was just in pain and I wanted it to stop. Tom had brought Laura, a friend of ours from the neighborhood who Abby knows well, and I was really grateful to hear her voice. The phone rang and it was the Dr on call, and I could vaguely hear a conversation going on around me, but couldn't understand what was being said in the midst of another contraction. Tom tried to ask me how far apart the contractions were and I yelled that they were right on top of each other. He then asked me if I could be a little more specific (I'm sure the Dr on the other end was the one being obnoxious with the questions,) and in desperation, I just shouted that I'm sure they were less than two minutes apart. I don't remember anything else about the conversation- I'm sure the Dr told Tom what to do and to come to the hospital, but I didn't ask him, and he didn't tell me.

He then came in and told me that I needed to get out of the tub. I couldn't imagine moving, but I knew that he was right. He helped me stand up, and was drying me off. He tried to put my pajama pants on me and I insisted that I needed to be dried off more, and that I needed to put on underwear. He dried me off more, but told me that it was fine that I went "commando" because they were just going to take all my clothes off when we got to the hospital anyway. He helped me into my pants and put a black T-shirt over my head. Laura poked her head in when we told her I was decent (quite a time to be concerned about modesty!) and asked me what she could do. I wanted a drink of water, and she brought me one. Another contraction hit, and I dropped to my hands and knees, moaning. I felt like I was going to be ripped apart by this force- the pain was unlike anything I had ever felt or ever imagined. It was centered deep inside my pelvis, and radiated everywhere. I cried out that I couldn't do it anymore, that I didn't want to do it. Laura was rubbing my back and shoulders and told me that I could do it, and that I was doing it. She then said that she thought I was in transition, and I would have laughed at the idea if I physically could have. There was no way I was in transition- had not been in labor long enough. Tom asked Laura what transition was, and she explained that I was probably dilating quickly from about a five to a ten, and his eyes got big. He told Laura that this was the part he hated- not knowing what to do or how to help. I was seriously worried about how much longer I could handle the pain, and Laura told me I just needed to get to the hospital- that they had all sorts of wonderful drugs there. At that point, I was ready to throw all plans for natural birth out the window. I just wanted to be done with all the pain. An epidural sounded like heaven to me, although the moaning with next contraction came from the knowledge that I still had to get to the hospital (about a half hour away) and get admitted before they could do anything!

I decided it was time to start moving towards the van, and the two of them helped me up slowly and we started walking to car. I was literally hanging on Tom's neck when the net contraction hit, and was pleasantly surprised that it didn't hurt as much when I did that. What a time to find a position that worked! We made it outside to the van, and he had the door opened, and the seal laid back in front for me. He had one of our big beach towels spread out on the front seat, and I noticed with relief that my two favorite pillows were also on the back seat. I got in slowly, heard Laura tell us good luck, and we were off.

I decided to kneel on the front seat and drape my arms around the back of the seat. Concerned for my safety, Tom put the seatbelt around the back of me, which I thought was pretty silly. I rode for a few minutes that way, but I was so hot. I asked if the air conditioning could be turned on any higher, but it was already going at full blast. I couldn't handle how hot I was feeling so I had to turn around. He was speeding through our residential neighborhood, honking his horn as he went, and even though my eyes were closed, I knew the drive so well that I was seeing in my mind exactly where we were in the neighborhood. I was trying so hard to get comfortable in my seat and get focused- I was looking for one of those bars that they hook to the ceiling of the passenger seat to hold on to, and my van didn't have one so Tom gave me the had that he wasn't driving with and I started squeezing that for all I was worth. During one of the breaks between contractions, I told Tom that I needed to get a hold of myself, and tried slow deep breaths, but that only lasted until the next contraction started. I was literally screaming at this point- there was nothing else I could do. We had just turned onto Lake Park Blvd, which leads to Bangerter Highway, when in the middle of one of my contractions, I screamed that the baby was coming. It sounded like it was coming from someone else, and it sounded ridiculous to be saying it, but somehow I knew that she was really close. Tom told me, very calmly, "No, we are going to the hospital. We'll be there in about twenty minutes." The next contraction my body started to push. At first, I didn't recognize the sensation- it felt like I was about to go to the bathroom in my pants, and I thought, briefly, how embarrassed I would be if that happened. But the feeling got stronger and stronger, and with the next contraction, I knew that my body was pushing this baby out, and there wasn't anything I could do to stop it- pushing with that force was the only thing I could do. (Whoever described it as the "urge" to push really didn't do that feeling justice! It's more like an overwhelming force- a tidal wave or something else uncontrollable. Fighting against it was impossible�) I screamed that I had to push, and Tom said that he didn't know what to do. I told him to stop the van, but he kept going. I hit him on the arm and screamed again that I was pushing. Said that he didn't know what to do and I screamed at him to "Pull over and dial 911!"

We had just pulled onto Bangerter Highway and pulled off to the shoulder. He told me I had to let go of his hand so that he could dial and I was barely aware of letting go. Once again I had that odd feeling of a conversation going on around me without being able to understand what was being said. The force that was going through me was absolutely amazing- I was pushing with every contraction, and although it hurt, at least it felt like I was getting somewhere. Somehow, when I was pushing, it took away the pain for a little while. It was an intense, overpowering feeling, but it wasn't painful the way the contractions were. Before I knew it, Tom had come to my side of the van and was trying to persuade me to take my pants off. I'm still not sure how I managed that feat sitting in the front seat of a minivan while having contractions, but we did. He looked down between my legs and announced to the 911 dispatcher that he could see the head. I think that was when it really hit me- we were going to have the baby right there on the freeway. I started to feel burning- in the back of my mind I remembered people calling it the ring of fire, and I thought that was really accurate. The burning was everywhere and it didn't go away. I was really in my head at this point- operating on instinct. I couldn't think myself through this- my body was completely in control. It was amazingly primal and powerful. Tom put his hand on my perineum on the instructions of the dispatcher, but I felt my body push against his hand, like it was rebelling against his restriction, and all of a sudden, her head was out. Tom reached down to get a towel to wipe her face and mouth when a final huge contraction came ripping through my body like a wave and I heard him say "She's out, she's out, she's all the way out!" I couldn't believe it- my baby had been born. I felt a huge rush of adrenaline, knowing that labor was over and reached for her, begging to hold her.

Tom put her on my chest and it was one of the most powerful, emotional moments of my life. I looked at this little body and was completely amazed that she had been born a few seconds before. She wasn't crying, but was completely pink, so I knew that she was breathing. She was wrapped up in our big purple beach towel, and was wet, but wasn't covered in vernix or anything other fluids, she just had a little smear of blood on her eyebrow. She just laid still, looking up at me with these wide, intense, darker-than-dark eyes, like she was as amazed as I was at what had just happened to her. I was filled with this overpowering love for her- there is nothing in the world that could compare to that moment. I studied every inch of her that I could see- her tiny hands, her thick, dark hair, and the still pulsing umbilical cord, which was surprisingly long and thin. Here was this tiny little person who had just come from inside me- she seemed so much smaller than I remember babies being- she seemed so much smaller than my first when she was born. Tom was still on the phone with the dispatcher, and I watched him tie off the umbilical cord with his shoelace. It seemed like the minute he cinched it tight, we heard the sirens of the ambulance, and we both breathed a sigh of relief.

Before I knew what had happened, there were four paramedics looking in on us. Three men and a woman, who looked at me, smiled, and said "Hi, mom! My name's Monica, and we're going to take care of you." I could have hugged her. It was so nice knowing that someone else was in control, and I was so relieved that we weren't completely on our own anymore. They quickly cut the cord, and I saw some of the blood spurt out onto my arm, and I felt a pang of emotion as they took her from me, knowing that we weren't joined together anymore. Two were checking her out, and two were checking me, although I was trying my hardest to see what was going on with her. I was so anxious to know that everything was okay with her, and I kept asking them until one of them told me that everything was fine. They loaded me carefully onto a stretcher and I asked for something to cover me up- all of a sudden I was concerned with modesty again! I think it was probably the realization that there were cars whizzing by on the freeway, and I didn't really want to expose myself to them! I looked in the van as I was getting moved out, and was slightly horrified at the amount of blood and mess that was everywhere- I looked over at Tom and told him I was sorry that there was such a mess. Thankfully, he just chuckled.

They loaded us both into the ambulance, and Tom was following behind in the van so that we could have it and so that it wouldn't get towed off the road. I was laying on the stretcher in a daze, hardly realizing what had just happened. There were two paramedics checking me out, and one was asking me all sorts of questions. I was vaguely annoyed with him because I was so overwhelmed with everything that had happened- how could I be expected to remember mundane details like when I was actually due or when my contractions started. They started an IV, and put me on an oxygen mask, neither of which I wanted, but I didn't argue. They were concerned because the placenta hadn't delivered yet and wanted to give me some pitocin in my IV and I refused flat out. The last thing I wanted in me was pitocin after all that! They gave me the baby to try and nurse, but laying on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance was not the ideal place to begin our nursing relationship! She nuzzled with me a little bit, but they wanted her to stay so covered up, and have an oxygen mask nearby so it just wasn't working.

When we got to the hospital, they put the baby on my chest all wrapped up and we were wheeled through the hospital on the stretcher. They were arguing about what floor L&D were on- I told them immediately the fourth floor. I had definitely been there enough the past couple of weeks! I got a kick out of all the curious looks and stares we got as we were wheeled through the ER, halls and then up the elevator. I felt like I was on the set of ER or something. We got up to L&D and two nurses immediately jumped up when they saw us, following all of us into a labor and delivery room. The nurses were very kind and very efficient, checking me out, asking questions and trying to find out what had happened. Everyone seemed concerned that I hadn't delivered the placenta yet, and I was getting more and more frustrated that it wouldn't deliver and I kept having all these stupid contractions! At one point, I had a nurse applying pressure to my uterus, and one trying to pull on the umbilical cord, but it still wouldn't come. They decided to call the OB on call, and my heart nearly stopped when they said his name. It was the Dr who had delivered my first daughter- the one I had fired early in the pregnancy, for various reasons- opposition to natural birth being a big one.

The Dr came in, recognized me, and made some smart remark about this being why natural birth wasn't a good idea, and then went straight to work. I wanted to deliver the placenta so bad at this point- I just wanted the contractions to stop! I was moaning and saying how bad it hurt, and he told me it wasn't his fault, and that I should take it up with God. (Bedside manner was never his strong point�) He told me that I was going to have to help them, because if he had to pull it out, there would probably be pieces left inside me, and then he would "have to go in after them." That was enough to get me going. The next few contractions, I was pushing with everything I had, and finally, finally, almost an hour after the baby was born, the placenta was finally delivered. Then it was time for the stitching. This was, quite literally, more painful than the contractions leading up to the birth. I didn't know it at the time, but I had a second degree tear towards my rectum, and then had torn upward straight through my urethra, and my clitoris. I refused pain meds in my IV at first- I didn't want to be drugged after I had just had a completely natural birth, but after two more seconds of touching me, I was screaming at him to stop and they had to give me something. The next half hour or so as he was stitching me was absolutely excruciating. The drugs that they put in my IV didn't make a dent, and all the shots of local anesthetic barely took the edge off. I was still aware of every stitch, and it felt like they were tearing me apart at the most sensitive areas possible. Finally, Tom looked at me and told me to look at him. I did, and he breathed with me for a little bit. I didn't take my eyes off him for the rest of the time, and finally the Dr was finished. I learned later that the paramedics said that I looked like I had a gunshot wound, and the Dr said it looked like I had sat on a hand grenade. I'm glad that they didn't tell me that until after I had been stitched up!

A nurse came in periodically with updates on the baby- we found out she had weighed 6 lbs and 14 oz, and that she was 19-1/2 inches long. They had to take her to the NICU because her temperature was too low, but that I would get to see her as soon as I could. They reassured me that he would do everything he could to get me back together with the baby as soon as they could. That was the only thing that made any sense after all the pain I went through- I wanted to hold her, see her, touch her, and nurse her. Finally, the nurses told me that I was okay to be wheeled to the NICU, and they took me to see my daughter. They wheeled me into the NICU, and I saw her being held and rocked by my husband. Tears came to my eyes and I reached for her. She was so beautiful, and was doing well enough that she could come with us to a regular post-partum room.

We became minor celebrities the whole time we were in the hospital. Every nurse, assistant, lab person, or anyone who came into the room seemed to know exactly who we were and wanted to hear details of the story. I laughed when we were wheeled into the room and saw that a message had been written on the white board- "Congratulations Mom and Dad on the speedy delivery- hope your daughter doesn't spend her whole life living in the fast lane!" We didn't know who had written that, but it sure made us laugh.

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