Eight little years ago...
The early morning brought mild labor pains.
The noontime brought a trip to the OB, who assured me that mild to moderate intermittent contractions meant that it could be days yet. I disagreed, assuring him that I would be seeing him later that day, before his shift was over. I was right.
The afternoon brought the sudden breaking of water, a quick jaunt to the hospital, and a wait of less than 3 hours.
The early evening brought our boy to us, in all his beautiful, life-changing splendor.
The nighttime brought him back to my hospital room, with declarations from the nursery staff that they could not console him.
The morning found us snoozing away, with him tucked in my arm and by my side.
All was right with the world.
Happy Birthday, Firstborn Boy.