Welcome to the world, my sweet baby boy.

(Ok, brothers. I am going to try to share this story with as little graphic detail as possible.)

January 23, 2013. 38 weeks, 5 days.

4:30 a.m.: I wake up for the 8 or 9th time that night as usual, but this time was slightly different. It definitely wasn’t my water breaking; surely there would be more "water." Right? I had been 4 cm dilated for over a week at this point. At first, I thought that meant I might go into labor soon, but at this point I had kind of given up on the "soon" part. So of all the stupid things in the world to do right then, I got out my computer and googled. I googled. There are so many better ways I could’ve spent that time.

5:30: I decide that I will call my doctor, even though I think it is nothing. I hesitated so long because I knew my doctor would probably make me come in, and I also knew she probably wouldn't send me home. But I had to be sure that everything was OK. So I wake Khan up and tell him. So half-awake at 5:30 in the morning, Khan tries to process that we might have a baby in our arms later in this same day.

6:00: I call my doctor, and, as expected, she tells me to go to the hospital. I send a text to work and my mom saying that I was pretty sure it was a false alarm, but I was going to the hospital. Then I debate whether or not to put on makeup. Seriously. Instead, I get dressed and pack the last few things in my bag, just in case. Khan wakes Lily up to get her ready for an early morning at school.

6:30: Real contractions start. Holymothertruckingsh!t, those are NOT fun. Andplusalso, whoever said that they start out at like 10, 15, or 20 minutes apart lied. These were coming every 3 to 5 minutes. We pick up the pace and get out the door in a whirl of chaos.

6:50: We drop Lily off at school, and I have no idea what we’re going to do with her at the end of the day. I had a bag packed for her to stay at her friend’s house, but this is not the way it was supposed to happen. That bag is still packed and untouched on my living room floor.

A conversation that happened two days earlier: My stepmom asks how far away from the hospital we are. I say anywhere between 30 minutes and over an hour, depending on traffic. As long as we don’t have to go between 7 and 9 a.m., we would be fine, I tell her. There are 22 other hours in the day, right? The odds are on my side.

7:00: We are on our way and it's morning rush hour, getting close to I-275. The on-ramp is stopped. I panic and make Khan tell me that it will clear up after we get on the highway. He lies and tells me traffic will be moving.

7:30: I call my dad to tell him we are on our way to the hospital. He ends up talking me through contractions and traffic status updates. We are nearly stopped and barely moving. Khan starts to panic. I tell him he doesn’t get to panic because I can’t handle that. He fakes not being calm well. We pass an accident, and traffic starts to pick up.

7:50: I get a text from Jeannette saying she can pick Lily up from school that day and take her for as long as we need. I am so grateful for having great friends.

8:00: We arrive at the hospital. First stop is some information desk. I tell dude at the desk I’m in labor. He tells me to fill out some form. I wave at Khan to deal with him because I was going to punch him in the face. We get called back pretty quickly.

8:30: I ask for drugs. I’m told I have to wait. I’m not happy. I’m 5 cm dilated. We get carted off to labor and delivery. I ask for drugs. I’m told I have to wait. I’m not happy.

9:30: Epidural in place. I am happy.

10:20: 8 cm dilated. Meconium present. I’m trying not to freak out, and my doctor reassures me that his heartbeat is strong, and I have nothing to worry about. It’s like she just met me.

11:20: 9.5 cm dilated.

11:40: It’s time to start pushing. I wish I had pushed the button for more drugs. Khan, doctor, and nurses are telling me to push more, push harder, I’m doing great. My response? I tell my baby: “Get out!” Yes, the first thing I ever said to my sweet baby was “get out.”

11:48: He’s a good little boy and did what I asked of him. I hold 8 lb, 9 oz., and 20.75 inches of total perfection in my arms.

I swear I have this exact picture of Lily and I wouldn't be able to tell the difference. He looks just like her except he has about half as much hair as she did.

At 11:48 a.m., my world changed. (Warning: new mommy sappy gushing ahead.) When they laid this little guy on my chest and I put my arms around him, he captured my heart.

I'd say the proud daddy felt the same.

And he's looking and feeling pretty good.

And then there was me. Do you see why I wanted to put on some makeup? (I can't believe I'm posting this picture, but it makes me laugh.)

 Then we were moved upstairs to the fancy new mom-baby unit at St. Joe's.

Brendan got his first bath and his first faux-hawk.

He was not a fan.

We got some visitors.

You might have noticed who didn't visit us: Lily. That's right, my daughter. She was basically too busy playing with Jade and having too much fun to stop and visit her mama in the hospital or meet her new brother. I missed her very much, but it really was for the best. She was happy, and I didn't want to upset her with having to say good-bye to me in the hospital. But dam, I really missed her. And to think of all the energy I spent stressing over how she was going to handle being away from us overnight.

Not that Lily's overnight visit was the only needless worry I'd had. From the moment I read "pregnant" on that test until this day, I worried about so many things. Would he be healthy? Would he eat and sleep OK? Would he have a giant head? Could we afford daycare? Would he be a dwarf? (I only slightly worried about this and I blame Diana Gabaldon and GRRRR Martin.)

But mostly, I worried about how our family would change. How could I make sure Lily knows how a new baby doesn't change my love for her? What if I can't figure out how to bond with a boy? How would I make room in my heart -and in our family of three- for this little guy?

But at 11:48 a.m. on January 23, I learned in a minute that none of it mattered. I didn't have to change anything to make room for him - the space was already there, waiting for him to fill it. As for the rest, we will figure it out as we go - as a family of four.