So a year ago I was in labor.

I am notorious for my labor not being productive because I am too stressed out. When my pains were about 5 minutes apart I was advised to walk to keep them coming strongly, and I did for about 3 hours (at a mall with air conditioning, because last year on 4/14 it was 90 degrees in MN- go figure) and when I got to the hospital at 10pm I was only at 3.5. Since I live really close to the hospital, they suggested I go home to try and relax, since I got all the admission stuff taken care of. So I did, figuring I would have the baby in the morning as usual (with #1 it happened at noonish, #2 at 6am)

I went home. Against all advice and suggestions, I ate, and I took a bath and read a book.

By midnight my contractions felt pretty serious, and I decided I didn't want to be alone so I called April's mom-to-be to get going at 12:30. She got there about 1:15.

It was definitely time to get to the hospital, although I didn't think my water had even broken yet.

We got to the hospital at 1:45 and I was having the urge to push, which I (in my infinite wisdom) assumed meant I was just finally having productive contractions and was maybe (if lucky) at 5 centimeters.

I was at 8.5. I had April at 2:05 after pushing for about 10 minutes.

My only birth without pain meds. There wasn't time, and the only difference was that I was more scared. But I did it. The first thing I said was "it's a girl right? It really is a girl?"

Because April's parents were only adopting if it was a girl.

Watching April's mom holding her was really great.

I never looked back on it. It was the only decision I ever considered. It's also the only thing I planned while involved with Sal that he didn't manage to fuck up.

Go team!