I had Mark Cannie on May 3, 12 years ago. He was perfect in every way, and still is, but I can't deny that he gave me a terrible time while I was in labor.

I was 25 years old, and completely ready for a girl. Mark's legs were crossed, but he wasn't kicking as much as boys usually did, and the doctor said that it was probably going to turn out female.

During my 5th month, I went out shopping and bought pink and yellow clothes, bottles, strollers and everything else I could think of.

My house was incredibly stressful. My mother and father had died a few years back, and so I lived with my husband. But in our house were my two younger brothers who were 13 and 14, and my grandmother.

Jeremy and Cole (my brothers – who act a lot like twins) were shopping with me one day for diapers. We decided not to buy them until the baby was ready to pop out so that they would be fresh. Cole, the 14-year-old, had gotten into some trouble at school and Jeremy had taken part of the blame, so they were both suspended. I was making them come with me.

I was 8 1/2 months pregnant, and I suddenly had this small contraction. I told the boys to buy the diapers, and I'd wait outside. They were a little confused, but they did as I told them.

Mark was ready to come out. I knew it because there was suddenly a pressure very, very low in my womb.

I waited for Cole and Jeremy in the car, and when they got out, they had also bought gum and candy and soda. I didn't get mad at them, because I was in some pain. I had been timing the contractions, and they were about five minutes apart.

I drove halfway home, and suddenly, in the middle of the road, got this huge contraction and had to pull over and scream through it.

Cole got out his cell phone and called my husband. I couldn't drive or talk through the contractions at that point. My husband, Wayne, pulled up in his truck. He had a truck; I had the car.

Since there were only two seats, I rode in the back. It was actually more comfortable, because I could lay out. Cole rode in the passenger seat, and Jeremy sat in the middle.

When I got home, my grandma started to nag me about how I was doing it all wrong, and how when she was little, she had to give birth while working in the fields, and she couldn't even stop to lie down. She was basically just being rude, like always, so Jeremy made her leave.

My husband and Cole were still in the room. I had told Cole and Jeremy that they could watch if they wanted to. They both had wanted to.

My contractions were about three minutes apart at that point. They were strong and hard to deal with. I took off my clothes and checked myself, and I was 8 centimeters dilated.

Suddenly, I must have gone the other 2 centimeters, because my water broke and I automatically pushed – completely against my will.

The top of the baby's head came out, just as Jeremy came back into the room. I still make fun of Jeremy a little, because he passed out. Cole caught him and dragged him into the other room.

After a few seconds, I pushed again and got the baby's head out. Again, and the shoulders came. My husband grabbed the baby and pulled him out. Cole came running back that moment, and was real happy for me.

I remember my husband laughing suddenly, and saying, "Honey, we'll have to return all of the pink blankets."

I was exhausted, and fell asleep almost instantly. I couldn't even stay awake to see my baby. But I woke up about three minutes later (I take quick naps) and I held Mark. I let Jeremy name him, since he passed out.

I've had two children since then, and am expecting the fourth (and fifth – twins!) about three days ago. I'll post the other stories real soon.