I woke up on March 24th with high ambition. I was going to clean the house, Jeremy and I were going to go on a walk (Jeremy actually wanted to go golfing and have me walk along…) and we were going to meet my parents at 5:30 for dinner. I spent the majority of the morning very uncomfortable and unmotivated to get anything done around the house. Something was off. Oh, and I was having contractions every 3 minutes. They weren’t painful or anything but enough to make me think that something was a stirring in my tummy.

Finally, at about 4 pm I called the hospital and told the doctor on call what was up. He didn’t seem too concerned and said that if we wanted to, we could come in to get checked out. In my mind I was thinking that they would just send me home. We arrived and the nurse hooked me up but also didn’t seem to concerned. She checked me. 3 cm dilated and 50% effaced which is where I had been for the past month. She was ready to send me home when she saw 3 contractions at about 1 minute apart. She was shocked I couldn’t feel them. She asked if I would stay and walk around for 40 minutes to see if they pick up.

We began pacing the halls of the hospital at 4:50. Jeremy was tracking the contractions and even counting down the seconds to when one would occur. We were laughing and joking around almost the entire time. We were just about to head back to the desk when my first ‘ohmygoshthatisreallypaintful’ contraction hit. I almost hit the floor. We went back to the room and the nurse hooked me up again and checked me. 5 cm and 100% effaced in that 40 minutes stretch. She said we weren’t going anywhere.

They transferred me over to the ‘active labor’ room where I became fast friends with the yoga ball. It took away some of the edge of the contractions but, man alive, it was painful. I don’t think I opened my eyes or talked for the next 2 hours. I had requested an epidural for when I got to about 7 cm. The doctor came and checked me at 7:00 and I was at 6 cm. He broke my water (weirdest feeling ever) and it came out green (I didn’t look- I wasn’t in the right state of mind to process colors). They said it might be an infections or he had pooped :) As soon as he broke my water the contractions became even more intense and even closer together. At that point, I had almost dislocated Jeremy’s thumb and was thinking that death seemed like a perfectly good options vs. the pain I was in.

At about 8:45 I was checked. 9 cm. Panic went through my mind. I thought they would tell me that I couldn’t have the epidural. I was tearing up and praying to God that I could get a little relief and be able to catch my breath. I was on oxygen and I don’t think my lips have ever been so chapped from all of the deep breathing. They still gave me the epidural but I was warned that it would only take the edge of. It was almost instant relief (well, sorta…). I could still feel every contraction, my legs weren’t numb but oh my, I could breath again. I actually began to enjoy giving birth. I could focus on what I was supposed to do and I was actually listening to everyone’s instructions. I began pushing at 9:35 and it took until 10:09.

10:09 pm is when time stood still for me. As they pulled him out I am positive that I stopped breathing and just stared at him. They took him away to make sure he was ok because of the green fluid from earlier. I was stuck to the bed but I used every ounce of strength to strain my head to watch everything they were doing. I tried to catch every glimpse of him that I could. I could get over how precious he was, how much hair he had, how absolutely adorable he was and how big he was. An 8 lb 10 oz baby was not what we were expecting but goodness, was he perfect in every way.

10:25 pm was when I finally got to hold this precious little boy that I had inside of me for 9 months. It took my breath away. I didn’t cry, I just stared in disbelief that such a beautiful little baby could come out of me. He was healthy and content.

We chose the name Liam Anthony. Liam has many meanings such as ‘strong willed warrior’, ‘protector’ and ‘helmet’. We decided that such strong meaning was perfect for a first-born son. Anthony is Jeremy’s dad’s middle name.

March 24th was one of the best days of my entire life. Yes, labor was no fun but it went fast which is what Jeremy and I had prayed for. I honestly cannot describe the pain and I can say that, now that I have a baby in my arms, it was worth it.

I love being a mom and I love my little boy. It’s hard to believe what life was like before this little man was in our lives and we are so incredibly thankful that God has blessed us with a healthy baby boy.