My labor began late in the evening of the first day of spring. Nine long months of pregnancy, many of them bed-ridden with acute morning sickness, had finally turned into the countdown we’d been waiting for. I was one week overdue. My husband was so excited to be a daddy; I was so excited to meet the cherished little person who had been forming inside my body for nearly a year, and our families were excitedly waiting by their phones for the announcement. After being awake all night with contractions, the sun finally rose on Friday, March 21. We put the finishing touches on our hospital bags, took a long walk, and headed for our midwife’s office.
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