The gory details

So where was I? I guess I could talk a bit about the actual birth of the fuzzlet. I had been in early labor on and off for about 3 weeks. As in, something would start happening, then stop just when things were getting good. Then as time got closer to his birthday I was just kind of in constant mild labor for, oh, maybe 3 days. It wasn't too bad, mostly just frustrating. I got tons of acupuncture from various different practitioners to see if it made a difference. Boy did it. This one lady named Masako gave me the ole pokearoo on Thursday morning and by the evening I just knew we were in labor. Then I fell asleep. Balls. Around 3 the next morning I woke up with the innate knowledge that for reals this time, I was in labor. So I told my instincts to go blow and tried to go back to sleep. It didn't take long to realize that not only were my contractions not going away, but that they were about 3 minutes apart and 45 sec long. So we called our Doula, Michelle who came over lickety split and said, "Um, guys, you might want to give your Midwife a heads up this is gonna be soonish. I go,"Yeah right, you call, Imma hop in the tub and ride the next few contractions out." Because, honestly, I thought it was going to be forever before things got real. Unbeknownst to me, because Michelle was super mellow and I asked her not to quote me numbers so I wouldn't get caught up in where I thought I should be, I was already smack dab in the middle, about 5 to 7 cm and gaining. Then I really started working for the gold and Michelle was like, seriously, bro, now is the time. So we hot-footed it to the birthing center which was a special experience due to contractions being about a zillion times stronger out of the water. Dan, being the most awesome husband ever, put on Dr. Horrible's Sing A Long Blog for me to focus on. During the most intense contractions, I had A Man's Gotta Do as my personal soundtrack. It was epic. So, we get to the center and I'm getting wheeled through the lobby filled with half the state getting to hear things like, "Hey, today's my birthday too!" and other such things as I have some pretty fantastic contractions right there in public. I get wheeled to my room and suck it up through getting monitored because that's what they do, the whole time being very politely insistent that as soon as possible I'd like to get in the tub now PLEASE. So into the tub I go then out again a few minutes later as the midwife is all, "We need to break your water so you can push, k?" At that point it dawned on me that my whole labor had been super short, only a few hours and while pretty intense, totally doable since the whole time I had been expecting something basically unbearable and unending. Now don't get me wrong, it was no picnic. There were several times that I knew I was absolutely never doing that again. But according to the whole team, I had an easy time of it. There was only about 25 minutes of pushing and by that time the contractions were my friend helping me get to the finish line. And let me tell you, quick and easy, or no, during the actual pushing out part, I knew someone somewhere had made a horrible mistake, because there was no way he was gonna fit through there. I thought I would humor everyone and play along like I believed we were going to be successful, but really, I thought everyone was smoking crack. Fortunately for me I was wrong, and out he came, all purple and wiggly in what felt like no time. And there he was, the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. My son. I kissed Dan, thanked him for our little angel, then promptly forgot that anyone else in the world existed as I stared down at Xander in wonder that has yet to abate.