I was in labor.

By 8:15pm I knew that my son was ready to be born. There was no stopping my labor, nor did they want to. It had been decided the night before that we would just let nature take it's course and, if my body was ready to deliver, then we'd just take it moment by moment and deal with everything as it came. The Stadol was wearing off so we all knew that it was a matter of hours before I delivered.

I was being assured by my doctor, Dr. Reiss, that the NICU staff was on stand-by waiting for my son to be born. I was told they had everyone ready with everything they needed, so I just needed to concentrate on me and my labor. Dr. Reiss was also explaining that when my son was born that he wouldn't look like the 'usual' babies that are born. They expected that he'd look 'different' but she couldn't give me a concrete idea on what to expect.

At around 10pm I knew it was time and that Ian wasn't going to wait any longer to be born. I told my nurse, Conner, but she didn't believe me; apparently women delivering their first didn't progress as fast as I was progressing. I got a few pats on the head and a few 'knowing' smiles from her, and it wasn't until I became the Devil Woman and assured her that she was either getting the doctor or I was that she took me seriously. She checked and, sure enough, it was time for Ian to be born.

Dr. Reiss came in to the room, full of assurances and reassuring words. She was ready, Sean was ready, and I was as ready as I was going to get. I pushed once, twice... and then I was told to stop. Dr. Reiss had to go deliver another baby! I thought they were kidding at first, but off she went, leaving me with poor unassuming Conner and my somewhat amused husband.

I was able to breath through three contractions and then I decided that I'd follow along with Mother Nature's plan and just push. They could be there to help or not: I knew this baby was ready and that my body was going to act on instinct. Conner yelled at me to stop pushing but I couldn't- Mother Nature was just too strong an influence and I could literally feel my baby moving around, ready to be born.

Dr. Reiss arrived at the second unassisted push. I could hear her sneakers as she ran down the hall and slid into the room. She threw on another gown and told me to keep at it; she was ready now. I pushed three more times and Ian David slid into the world.

He didn't cry at all. They wrapped him up with barely a whimper from him and held him over for me to kiss his cheek. I remember thinking, "He feels like a wet sponge!" and then they whisked him away to the far corner of the room to work on him. He was silent and the NICU staff moved quickly with few words. The chief NICU staff member told me, "He isn't well. His Apgar is a 6. We need to take him upstairs," and they wheeled him off without another word.

I was able to see him after a few hours. We had some pull since Sean's uncle is Chief of Pediatrics at the hospital so we were able to bypass the usual wait time, and we all (Me, Sean, Ovi and Yoli, and Tommy) headed to the NICU. I remember feeling like I was floating down the hallway, almost as if I were in a dream that I couldn't wait to wake up from. I couldn't believe that my son was born and that his life hung in the balance, that he had to rely on these strangers for his life. It wasn't supposed to be that way. Everything was wrong.

When we walked in to the NICU I saw the most beautiful creature I had ever seen: My Son. He was hooked up to tubes and wires, machines where beeping and clicking close by... and the ventilator whirred. That was the worst part of it all, that huge machine inflating my son's lungs so that he'd stay alive. My son couldn't even breath on his own, but he was beautiful and amazing.

It took over three weeks before we could take his first picture. We got the above one when he was taken off the ventilator.

This one was taken the first time we were able to feed him. He still had his feeding tube, but I was able to get a picture taken when I gave him my first bottle.

Then Sean got to hold him:

It was a long, hard road but Ian was ready to come on Thanksgiving day, 2003. We don't have any pictures of it because we didn't want to wait around for the hospital photographer, but that's OK. That moment is forever etched in my brain: The day I got to bring my Hero home.