After a year of fertility treatments we finally discovered we were pregnant. The pregnancy was pretty uneventful, except by 39 weeks I was out of room to breathe and ready to have this baby!

At my 40-week checkup I was 3 centimeters dilated, and since we lived over an hour away the doctor scheduled induction for two days later. The day before induction, I felt like I was catching a cold, so I pushed the fluids like a madwoman, but it didn't matter. By bedtime I felt pretty rough. Plus, I was nervous about the induction and first baby, so I just didn't sleep.

At 11 p.m. I got up to go to the bathroom and as I sat up I felt a pop and the tiniest squirt of water. I think in the back of my mind I knew it was my water breaking, but yet figured I'd just leaked urine or something. But I had this nagging feeling that I'd better grab some towels.

I laid the towels down on the bed and tried to go to sleep, then rolled over and – GUSH – definitely the water breaking that time. I laid there for a second, letting it all sink in, then nudged my husband, who of course was snoring. I told him my water broke, then, just like on I love Lucy or something (I am dead serious) he said, "Well, get a plumber" and went back to sleep! I got up and took a shower and that woke him up.

I had no contractions the entire way to the hospital. We got there at about 1:30 a.m., and they put the IV in and hooked up the monitors, but at 6:30 a.m. sharp (when I was scheduled to come in anyway for the induction) they started the Pitocin. The nurse said it would be awhile before I felt anything. I'm guessing that's not the case if your water has already broken, because in no less than two minutes I was in the most horrendous pain I could ever imagine. There was no easing into it or trying to relax. Getting hit with a sledgehammer would have been easier!

I immediately got a shot of something that just made me goofy, but I still felt everything. I got the epidural at 7 a.m., right at shift change, and the new nurse could have been called Atilla the Hun. The big downside to epidurals is having a catheter. By 11 the baby had really dropped and I was feeling excrutiating pain pushing on the catheter with each contraction.

I asked her to please take it out, and she said, "No, you're not ready to push yet." I said to check again. Then she said I was 9 to 10 centimeters dilated but could push around the catheter. I'll have you know that is physically impossible. I then told her if she didn't take it out, I was going to do it myself. She grumbled under her breath and took it out – ah, instant relief.

Oh, and somewhere around 6 or 7 centimeters I heard the baby's heart rate drop big time – down into the 40s. I mentioned it to her and she said it would come back up, and I anxiously watched while it did, and didn't dare nap for fear it would happen again and she wouldn't do anything.

The doctor came in a little later, saw that and chewed her out in the hall. Fortunately, it was a one-time deceleration.

I started pushing at noon, and I could feel the contractions and urge to push, but even pushing three to four times per contraction it was taking what seemed like forever. Finally at 1:30 p.m. Jacob was born, with a very long cone head and a head full of yellow fluff. I managed not to tear, which was a relief, and it only took seven hours.

He didn't cry at all – just looked around in amazement. And he was wide awake and silent until about 7:30 p.m. – all day long. All in all, it was a pretty good experience, except the cold I caught turned into a severe case of bronchitis that lasted for three weeks and it took the full six weeks' maternity leave to start to get my strength back.