Never turn your back on a laboring multip.

That lesson was imprinted on me as an innocent intern by an esteemed chief, and they've remained words to live by to this day. Embroider it on a pillow, tattoo it on your arm, embrace it as a meditative mantra, but do not ever forget it. Ever.
For those of you about to wikipedia multip, it's short for multipara, which is Latin for "had too many babies." Or something like that, I mean there's a reason it's a dead language after all. Nulliparas, first delivery.

With a nullipara, you can reasonably assume her labor course will take longer than your last vacation. A multipara's labor on the other hand? Well, that's probably only going to last a little bit longer than your ex boyfriend....

No, seriously. A woman who has never had a baby and has no epidural will likely push for about an hour. If she has an epidural, she'll push a little longer, but three hours is the outside limit of normal. A woman who's had a delivery before and has an epidural, will maybe push for anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour, max.
But a woman who's had nine deliveries, has no epidural and is telling you she needs to push? That's the express train coming through Chicago. I recoiled from the force of the ten pound baby she launched into my arms and staggered back.
Ergo, NEVER turn your back on a laboring multip.

I make it a point to try to scar or scare all new interns with this policy, but alas, not all of them are as apt of pupils as I was. As a result I've delivered more than my share of babies one handed, one gloved, diving across the room. Yuck, I shudder just thinking of it. So listen up interns; keep your chief happy and when a multip is huffing and puffing into the station, do not turn to adjust your instruments, avert your eyes to your pager or leave the room to go to the bathroom.
On a related note, dads to be; think carefully before scheduling an out of town business trip within a month of your due date. Guaranteed trouble.

This lack of foresight on one dad's part led directly to one of my favorite births of all time. In the poor guy's defense, the due date was a month away, it was their third child, it was an emergency work trip, and there is a recession going on. As soon as his plane landed in Vegas his wife's contractions started. She thought they'd go away, but they didnt. In fact, they got quite a bit stronger.

By the time she arrived on Labor and Delivery, she was just about ready to actually have the baby, but you wouldnt have guessed it from when she walked in. She was a petite woman, immaculately done up. Cute outfit, coordinating accessories and nails done. In a sweet, quiet voice she asked to see a doctor, saying she thought she was having contractions. A second later one hit, and she was roaring like she'd been posessed by all the demons in hell, or Republicans in Congress. Her eyes rolled back in her head, she clawed at the nurse's station, and frothed just a little bit at the mouth. After the contraction passed and her head stopped spinning, she delicately wiped away the foam with a monogrammed handkerchief and in dulcet tones asked to be checked. We hurried to oblige.

Minutes later, she was tucked into a labor room, ready to deliver and her husband was on speaker phone. The poor guy was shouting into his Blackberry from a conference outside of the Rainforest cafe at the MGM Grand.

"Oh honey, I love you so much!" she sweetly uttered into the receiver in response to his abject apologies intermingled with excited pride. "ROOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"
Her next contraction ricocheted off of the pyramid at Caeser's palace and was heard at the far end of the Vegas strip. Without skipping a beat she returned to cooing with her husband. Until the next contraction. It was hilarious and pretty adorable- the pattern repeated for a good fifteen minutes until she delivered one of the cutest babies I've ever seen.