We got lucky, my husband and me. I had a great pregnancy, amazing in fact. Minimal morning sickness, no out of the ordinary cravings, and my hormones weren’t too out of whack that I drove him too crazy. It was wonderful, and I loved every second of it. My pregnancy was textbook! Our daughter even cooperated for ultrasounds. No one in this world could have prepared me for what was to come.

Eight days late and I’m at the hospital, avoiding being induced any way I can.

“Let’s try this once more.” And “How about I get up and walk?”

I wanted to do this on my own. I’m a woman after all, aren’t I supposed to be able to do this on my own? After 36 long, (surprisingly restful) hours my water broke at 2:25 am and I knew we were one step closer to becoming parents. Updating statuses about my progress, calling family to tell them how things were going, we were at total ease. Nothing was going to go wrong, because it wasn’t part of the plan.

Finally I started pushing. It was time and I was ready to meet my little princess. The doctor came in, left and let my amazing team of nurses do what they do. 45 minutes later he was back, and he called for a vacuum.

“A what? No, I don’t want a vacuum. I can do this,” I said.

“You can have her vacuumed now or you can get a C-section – but you have 5 seconds to decide,” my doctor said.

I knew something was wrong. I heard nurses talking about a “dropped heart rate, lots of blood, get the special care nursery staff in here now.” This was not how my labor was supposed to go.

THIS was NOT in the plan.

She was here. 2:25 pm. But she was purple. There were complications during delivery. She let out a single cry and stopped. She wasn’t responsive. She was gone. Gone. This was not my baby. This couldn’t have been how my perfect pregnancy ended.

Thankfully, it wasn’t.

3 minutes later, the absolute longest 180 seconds of my life, she was back. Those amazing nurses, the ones that were there for me when my doctor wasn’t, brought my baby girl back. She was pink, and moving, and had a head of hair on her like no one had ever seen. She was perfect.

That was the last day of my life I took for granted. It made me a better wife, and in my opinion, a better mother than I ever would have been.