I’ve started this post about 12 times, but I’m finding it hard to describe what’s going on using regular words. I need better words. I thought about making up my own words, but then someone pointed out that ALL words are made up words and I was so busy thinking about that idea that I forgot that I was supposed to be writing about the thing I didn’t have words for in the first place. But it’s a good story with a happy ending, so I’ll try to tell it with my inadequate vocabulary nonetheless.

On Monday, October 19th, I was 35 weeks and 4 days pregnant, and after a difficult pregnancy and over a month of bed rest I was ready for the pregnancy to be over. Apparently, so was Junior. Exactly half an hour after I had made up the crib as the finishing touch on his nursery I felt my water break. Of course. I should have known he’d be early; he’s a Finley.

Less than an hour after I arrived at the hospital (followed closely by Adam after an 80$ cab ride from downtown Toronto) I was being prepped for surgery. The baby was transverse breech and a c-section was the only safe way to deliver him, but it was all happening so fast that there wasn’t time for me to get nervous about my very first surgery. A few key phone calls (“Mom! It’s time!”) and one spinal anesthesia injection later, it was go time.

Adam did get to come in to the OR with me, but I don’t remember too many other details of the surgery. I was awake through the whole thing and I do remember the awful tugging pressure and the shadows through the paper barrier of the two doctors pushing and pulling and coaxing the little one out. I also remember squeezing Adam’s hand for the ridiculously long second it took for our son to take his first breath. Thankfully, he was just as shocked by his early birth as we were, and after a few seconds he voiced his discontent with a nice healthy wail. He was held up for me to see and I was a little too overwhelmed for eloquent speech at the time, so I just said “Oh! He’s cute!” The nurse laughed at me and said I sounded surprised about that but it was really the only thing that came to mind.

Then the nurse asked us if we wanted to take a picture of him while he was “brand new” and it was then that Adam and I both realized neither of us had brought a camera, which is rather ironic since Adam is a photographer and I dabble in it for a hobby. He snapped a few pictures on his iPhone before Noah was taken away to the nursery and he had them up on Facebook before I was even out of surgery.

Despite being almost 5 weeks early, Noah Joseph Finley was born a healthy 5lbs, 11oz and only had to spend three nights in the special care nursery at Credit Valley Hospital because he was premature. Once he was born I don’t remember the rest of the surgery to close my incision, or even the hours in recovery before I could move enough to go see Noah in the nursery. I do remember holding him for the first time. I’ll never forget that.

Noah has had no problems from being a preemie (unless you count being ridiculously tiny and cute a problem). He is a very well-tempered child, sleeping nicely between feedings at night and quietly observing everything when he is awake during the day. And he is almost an exact replica of his father – so much so that not one person who has met him has failed to comment on it.

He’s perfect. We’re so happy. We’ve been waiting for you for a long time, little one.