I turned 19 last month and was due on the 18th of this month. Instead, I got connections on the night of the 4th. Slept through most of the night and woke up 3 times because of the pain. By morning, I couldn't handle the pain and went to the hospital. Found out I'm having contractions and am admitted. By this point I'm 3cm dialated. Pain fades to bearable and by midday, I'm put on the pit to really get the contractions going. After about 2 hours, my water breaks and contractions are back to back but I'm still not dialated enough. Night time comes in and I'm in extreme pain. I ask for IV pain meds since I don't want the epidural. My husband is in the hospital with me and my mom comes in later in the night. About an hour before active labor, I'm in tears and rolling around the bed trying to find some relief. Not going to lie, I asked my husband multiple times to kill me because I couldn't bear the pain. He stayed by my side and encouraged me to push through. He kept reminding me that my son would need me once he's born. That reminder is what kept me going. By the time my mom came to the hospital, a nurse tells me that the doctor wants me to push on my own for a bit. I push with each contraction and keep going until I'm told to stop because they can see his head but the doctor isn't there yet. I wanted to get up and slap that nurse. I ask my mom for advice and she tells me that if he's ready to come out, let him out. So I ignore the nurse and push 3 more times. Then I see my baby boy. He didn't cry, not at first. A nurse caught him before he landed on the bed. He's put on my chest and immediately he starts looking for my breasts. The joy and relief I felt once I held my son for the first time was immeasurable. If not for my husband, I probably would have quit mid birth and injure both my baby boy and myself.

Meet Marcel, born 07/06 @ 1:18 a.m.