Tomorrow is August's first birthday, a day that is completely about him. But on this eve of that big day, I'm allowing myself to celebrate his birth day. And even though my labor may not have been as challenging as others', it's still the proudest day of my life.
I wasn't in labor for days and days--just one beautiful, snowy Saturday. But I labored on my own at home all day.
I wasn't weeks past my due date--August was born just after the 37-week mark. But I carried him for those 37 nerve-wracking weeks.
I wasn't rushed to the operating room for an emergency C-section--our natural birth ended with a great catch by our awesome midwife. But I worked my entire pregnancy to get my body and mind ready.
After our struggles to arrive at that birth day nearly one year ago, I was thankful for every minute of the pregnancy, labor and delivery. I'm still grateful for the support I had that day--both in the room and in spirit--and I will forever be proud of my life's proudest moment.
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