Because I never told the story

She arrived on the scene at this time last year.

This is Bird's birth story - might be a little TMI for some, just a warning.

January 17th 2010, I was just trying to hold it all in. Literally. We were at my parents house to celebrate my oldest brother's 36th birthday with a family dinner before he returned to Philadelphia on a flight the next day. I apparently looked like I was struggling, my mom told me later. It had been a kind a rough day already, with my tummy seizing up, regularly but not painfully, over the past couple weeks and especially the last 12 hours.

We headed home after handing out hugs and receiving a quick, "Don't have that baby on my birthday!" and tried to get some sleep. T and I thought we were going to bed early, calling 10-10:30 pm early for those days when sleep was evading me, and therefore the both of us.

Around midnight, I just couldn't sleep anymore and I didn't know why. About half an hour of tossing and turning on my part left me with one answer. I had to go. #2. That's right.

I was feeling a few pains and thinking they might be contractions but didn't want to wake T for nothing, so I went to do my business and kinda kept time on my own. After some "success" but still feeling a pressure to produce and some pain still cycling through, I thought I better wake T up. I didn't get to say "It's time!" or anything that dramatic but I did shake him and mutter something to the effect of, "I think this is it." This was around 1:30 am.

We started to really time things out and all the while I just wanted to stay in the bathroom, on my special seat and never leave, because the pressure was really getting to me. We waited until they were so many minutes apart regularly and then waited an hour from that time (around 2:30 am) before we decided it was time to call the doctor and head out. There were walks around the living room, bags to finish packing, and coffee (yes coffee, that I am now thankful that T stopped for!) to be made. About 3 am we called my doctor and told her we were heading in and that I was in labor. Lucky for us the hospital was 7 minutes away and it was the middle of the night. There were definitely a few red lights run. We got to the hospital and T parked and helped me walk inside, which was a feat in itself, with the snow and ice covered parking lot and my contractions growing closer and stronger every minute.

It was 3:30 am when I finally got up to the triage, they checked me and I was already at a 6. The nurses were surprised and began to get me ready for my delivery. I was asked what I wanted to do about pain management. I told the truth: I'm not good with pain but I really want to try a natural birth. I would regret that in about an hour, but when all was said and done I'm happy I had a drug free birth.

For the next two hours it was a roller coaster of breathing, focusing, vomiting, back rubs, position changes, groans and grunts, and calming words from T and my amazing nurse Mary. I can honestly say I never imagined myself in half the "positions" I was in for comfort, with so much of my person exposed, but in the moment I think you cease to care about modesty!

Around 5 am I really felt the need to push and my doctor still wasn't there. I was asked if I wanted to wait for her and thought to myself, "I don't think that is up to me, I think you should ask this little person who wants out. I don't care who catches them, but they are ready to say hello!" Within minutes of that, my doctor showed up, swooped in, I was in position and pushing.

About 20-25 minutes later, I was asked if I wanted to look down at my daughter. I was so confused because a) this whole time I thought I was carrying a boy (just a guess) and b) I was too focused on pushing to want to check anything out. But there she was.

January 18, 2010, 5:30 am, 19.5 inches, 7 lbs. 2 oz.

T cut the cord and he brought her to me and everything else kind melted away as the doctors finished up their work down below and T just smiled at me holding our little lady.  As the staff faded out of the room and they periodically came to check on me before moving us to our recovery room, it got so quiet and our little family of 3 could just be, before the phone calls and announcements and congratulations.

It was just us. Three birds.