It felt like he would never get here. Come on already, we told him. For days and days and days we tried to talk him into making his debut, and he waited and waited and waited. Christmas came and went. Then New Year's Eve and New Year's Day. And we heard every joke about missing the tax refund and the prize for being born at 12:01am. And then we waited some more.
But he was ready right on time, it turns out. We came to the hospital at midnight, thinking it was the Real Thing. They sent us home again. Three hours later we were back, and I was 8cm dilated and out he came, three hours after that. I tried some morphine but it didn't matter, and then we were whooshing along so fast the epidural didn't happen either. He came in a blaze of glory at 6:18am on his due date. So punctual, he's already teaching me something.
Our days have been full of gurgles and burps, squirting (just...squirting), tears and belly laughs, a few meltdowns, and so much good food. Grandma came for the first five days and gave us the gift of experience and cheerleading. Friends have visited almost every day with so much enthusiasm we're inspired to face another sleepless night with bright eyes. Nurses and doctors reassure us that this kid is healthy and on his way to being a very fabulous human.
We think they are right.