All stories need a beginning, and this one starts on a Saturday night, at the end of August, when my mommy’s water broke. Or maybe it started 38 weeks earlier, when Daddy took Mommy to New York for a few days on her birthday. Or even way earlier, in January of 2010, when Daddy and Mommy first met. But then it’ll take way too long to tell the story, so let’s get back to yesterday, end of August 2014.

I was expected two weeks later, in the middle of September. Mommy arranged her work schedule and even booked Grandma for a visit during that time. Daddy didn’t really know what to expect, so he kept doing what he was doing (including preordering some video games that he foolishly hoped he’ll get to play, har har).

For most of the summer my parents didn’t prepare much - until the end of July when they came back from the last vacation as (just) a couple - when they realized I will be popping up in a few weeks. This triggered a run on the baby registry, hastily put together with the help of friends and family. In just a few days (hurray for Amazon Prime!) packages full of supplies started piling up. Daddy assembled my crib, my future stroller and set up my car seat. Mommy washed and arranged clothes for any (un)expected situation, which, for a baby, can be quite a few. They also prepared their hospital bags in advance, which turned out to be a very good idea.

The three-day Labor Day weekend was designated house cleanup time, plus some leftover furniture assembly from the previous week (Daddy had a bookcase to set up the previous weekend, but one of the pieces was busted so he had to wait for a replacement). Earlier that week they also got the carpet cleaned in the whole house, so everybody was in full cleaning mode. Mommy organized my clothes and essentials (diapers, wipes, you name it) while Daddy assembled the bookcase and cleaned up the bedrooms (all of them, since Grandma will be visiting soon). Later both of them turned their bedroom into a nursery by filling up the walls around my crib with animal decals.

As the afternoon turned into evening, Mommy started having a feeling that I might be coming sooner than expected. As tired as she already was, she started working on medical charts that she didn’t get to finish during the week. She typed and dictated until late, and then went to bed.

Only an hour after midnight - not more than two of sleep - Mommy woke up Daddy to tell him her water broke. They had to get to the hospital as soon as possible. Luckily their bags were stocked and ready and after a quick shower they were both in the car. Daddy badly needed some caffeine, so they stopped at a nearby McDonald’s (the town’s only Starbucks was closed at that time) to get a coffee and we were on our way. For practical reasons, all of Mommy’s doctors were actually in Wichita - a town about an hour and a half away - which means the maternity center they selected was there as well. Daddy drove us through the night and at 3am we were checking in.

As tired as they both were, the anxiety kept them from sleeping at all. Mommy had contraction after contraction and eventually asked for an epidural to numb the pain. Morning turned into afternoon, and both of them waited for the main event. Daddy barely got anything to eat - he raided the kitchen for some cereal at breakfast and a bag of mini pretzels at lunch - but that was still better than Mommy, who was not allowed to eat anything until I come out.

At around 4pm the nurses had Mommy start pushing. Her doctor (we were lucky to get Mommy’s own ob/gyn on call that day) came as well, along with a whole team of birth assistants. Forty minutes later I had enough of all this fuss, so I started making my way out…