Your birthday story

The week started off relatively innocuously. 
Your sisters moved into the same room... a big girl bed for the Middlest and a roommate for the Biggest. It has been interesting.

Taco Tuesday. 

A light snow.
OB report Wednesday: 4cm dilated, 90% effaced.

Saturday afternoon was filled with crazy hijinks at the Children's Museum for a birthday party. 

We ran amuk around the place and laughed so hard at these two I thought I might go into labor. 

Elle and Grace got to be the big-sister-tag-alongs for their little sisters' first social event.

Party ended around 5pm. Your dad and I had planned a date night at our favorite restaurant as a last hurrah before your grand entrance. Grampa arrived to take care of your sisters and we departed in Dad's new sportscar (the Evora, for those keeping up. I can't). 

I had noticed a few more contractions throughout the day, and even more in the rapidly accelerating mode of transportation to dinner. I told your Dad I thought we might be meeting you sooner rather than later. Do we need to go to the hospital, he asked? Not till I eat dinner! I proclaimed. I learned my lesson after delivery #1 that one needs to proceed to L&D only after a satisfying meal as the next few hours/days may be restricted to ice chips. And for goodness sake, this was the much anticpated DATE NIGHT! So, to dinner we went.

Contractions persisted, about 7-8 minutes apart as we were seated in the packed restaurant. We know the staff rather well, and Jay didn't hesitate to tell them why his dining partner was glancing at the time every 7 minutes or so. We chose an appetizer and quickly ordered entrees. The waiter, kept a nervous eye on me the whole time, and came up to whisper, "I've had the kitchen put your order in ahead of everyone else's". Very sweet, but I'm sure motivated by aversion to having to clean up a pool of amniotic fluid during peak dinner hours. 
It was perhaps the best meal I've ever had. Spot on. Original plans were to finish the evening with the indulgence of Maxie B's cake, but your Dad didn't think that a wise diversion at this point. I disagreed, but he won. We called Grampa and told him we wouldn't be coming home and could he please man the fort with your sisters. Elise was asleep, but Elle heard the news and gave you your first pep talk complete with a hearty fist pump, "Emerson, time to COME OUT!"

And out you came. I was 6.5 cm dilated and contracting every 7-8 minutes upon arrival, but not really progressing too rapidly. I was convinced I could go home and rest and things would settle down until the morning, but your dad and every other human being on the planet thought that was a ludicrous idea. But they were willing to let us "rest" in the hospital overnight and see if things would hold off till the morning. No need to wake your OB up in the middle of the night if not necessary. And you happily obliged.

Early Sunday morning, water broke and about an hour later I was fully dilated and literally one push of about 15 seconds later, you came into this world. I dare not elaborate too much about how easy labor was, but just between us- Thank You. All the nurses said you were the cutest baby on the mother-baby floor, and of course we agreed. A little over 24 hours later, we were on our way home.

You were, and are, perfect. There is no better moment on this Earth than seeing you for the first time. Even if the whole process had been a million times more difficult, I would do it all over again-- a thousand times over again-- just for that one moment of being there when you came into this world. Hearing your first cry, holding you close. That awesome, indescribable moment of meeting this tiny creature that God so perfectly knit together and so generously entrusted into our care. Welcome to this world, sweet baby Emerson. We've been waiting for you.

And we love you more than you can imagine. 

Happy birthday.