It was December 14, 2004, four weeks from my lmp. I got up and as usual took a pregnancy test, thinking it was going to be negative just like all the months before.

I stared at the strip waiting to see how many lines showed up. I saw one line show up and I sighed and set it down. A few minutes later I went to throw it away, and I could not believe what I was seeing, two lines! I was finally pregnant again. This time I was determined not to lose this one.

I called the doctor as soon as his office opened. They got me in the next day, because I have miscarried before. I had an ultrasound as soon as I arrived. My heart sunk – just another empty sac with no heartbeat. My doctor kept my hopes up and said it was too soon to tell and to wait a few more weeks to see if something developed. I was only 4 weeks pregnant.

At 7 weeks I went back to doctor for another ultrasound. It was the happiest day of my life. There before me on the screen was my little man with a heartbeat and growing strong. My husband and I cried with joy.

After that I lived for each doctor appointment, waiting to hear his heartbeat again. It was the sweetest sound.

At 5 months I went in for another ultrasound and found out I was having a boy. My husband ran out of the room screaming, It's a BOY! A few days after that I started feeling him kick really strong and no longer needed to hear his heartbeat to know he was alright. He kicked me so much, I never had to worry again.

My pregnancy seemed to go on forever. I thought I would never see my baby. The first 4 months I was sick. The second trimester was paradise. I could enjoy him kicking but I was not so big I was miserable. The third trimester I swelled up so badly that it hurt to walk. Still, I worked up to the day I gave birth and even did overtime. Lots of overtime.

On August 14, 2004, I was ready to have this baby. My due date was not until August 20, but I do not think I could have gotten any bigger. My midwife said the day before that I would probably go into labor soon because I was starting to lose weight.

Sure enough, on the next day after a long one-hour walk, I started bleeding. I called the midwife and she said it was nothing. So I went to bed. But I showered and shaved first just in case. Glad I did because at 11:30 p.m. my water broke. I thought I just had to pee, but I would never stop.

I screamed to my husband in bed, I think my water broke! He jumped out of bed and came running, which is surprising because he is usually hard to wake. He tried dragging me to the hospital immediately, but I was in no hurry. I wanted to call everyone first and also eat something. Glad I did that too because I was in labor for 24 hours and two minutes, 16 hours of which with no pain medicine.

By the way, they do not let you eat when you are in labor. The midwife on call was not my usual midwife. I did not like her at all. She acted like I was disturbing her busy day and she was in a hurry to get my labor over with.

She insisted on Pitocin. Ouch! The natural contractions were bearable but the Pitocin made me want to die. When the first set of Pitocin contractions hit I stopped breathing. All I could do was watch my husband counting and tried breathing.

I dealt with them for a few more hours and than was insisting on drugs, but they did not want to give me any because I was only dilated to 1 after 10 hours of labor and I was 1 centimeter two weeks ago. A few more hours went by, and I was saying drugs between contractions because I had very little oxygen to talk or the whole hospital would have been deaf.

Finally they gave me some narcotics. They did nothing for the pain, just helped me to relax between contractions, which was only for a few seconds. I couldn't take it anymore. With all my might I demanded an epidural. Two hours later I had one. The epidural man was my bestest, best friend. No more pain for me.

A little while after getting the epidural I felt a lot of pressure. I told the nurse and she checked me. I was at 10! I couldn't believe it – finally, after 21 hours of labor. But it wasn't over yet.

Pushing was the hardest part, especially since I could not feel a thing from the waist down and had not slept or ate in over 24 hours. I had no energy. Still I pushed, and I pushed and I pushed.

I started to give up and was asking for them to use the vacuum. When they came in with it my husband took one look at it and at me and said, No way. He demanded that I keep on pushing. I said five more pushes and I am done.

Seven pushes later and my Nathan was lying on my chest staring at me. He didn't even cry till they took him from me. Daddy was able to cut the cord and wash him. After two years of trying, 21 hours of labor and three hours of pushing, my baby had arrived. I tore a little bit and had to get stitches but it was worth every bit.

My little man is now 3 months old and is the light of my life.