Hello, son.
You are here! And you happen to be the most handsome baby in the world, but maybe I'm biased. (Okay, I am biased, but you really are! Don't let it go to your head, though. According to the doctor who delivered you, your head is big enough already.)
So here's the scoop on your coming into the world.
Your Grandma Annette arrived in town on Saturday, January 26th. We fully planned on having a few days of waiting around for you, and I was already planning out the girly things we would do in the interim. But Sunday morning around 4 AM I woke up with some pretty bad cramps. After a few more of those, I was pretty sure they were legitimate baby-is-coming-soon contractions, so I went into the bathroom to be alone with my thoughts. A few more contractions made me fairly sure I should start preparing for your arrival. I wanted to look and feel my best for your entrance into the world, so I showered, did my hair and makeup, and then calmly woke your dad and grandma up around 6 AM. They showered and got ready as well, because I assured them there was time. (Can you believe that after all of that freaking out for months and months, the big day finally arrives and I react like that?!Well, I will admit that I wasn't quite as calm on the inside, but there was no way I was going to let anyone see how excited I was. You know, just to make sure I didn't look like an idiot if the contractions were a false alarm or something. Silly me.) After a nice breakfast and a call in to the doc's office, we all headed over to the hospital.
And then the fun really began.
I don't remember a ton from the point where I got in the delivery bed to the actual delivery. I do remember putting on some really comfy, specially-made-for-traction hospital socks, that awful hospital gown, and being told I couldn't eat my peanut M&Ms until you made your entrance into the world. Then I remember a couple hours of pain while the contractions got worse. Then came the epidural. I have always been terrified to get an epidural, because I heard the needle is epically huge. Well, it really is. But guess what? I really didn't feel much of anything when they stuck that sucker in my spine. And then my legs went numb. And that's when I knew this birthing thing wasn't going to be so bad after all.
So our doctor (Doctor Espana) waltzes in when I'm pretty much ready to pop. I didn't know the difference, though, because I was literally feeling nothing. He's got a polo shirt on and had come straight from the auto show, he said. He broke my water, and I dilated the remainder of the way. And then things got really serious. All of a sudden the laughing stopped, and the scrubs went on, and everyone was bustling around. Then they told us that I needed to push fast and hard. So I did. Then they said if I didn't push faster and harder and pop you out that we would have to go to the OR, and they would have to cut you out. Your umbilical cord was around your neck, and your heartrate was dropping. My heartrate, on the other hand, had to have been through the roof at this point. I pushed until I thought my brains might come out, and all I could see were white lights in my head. And then when I thought I couldn't push another time, you quite literally popped out of me.
And I cried.
I cried because you were real. I cried because I was exhausted. I cried because I looked into your dad's eyes and could see so much concern and fear and love and some tears there as well. I cried because I knew a new little spirit had just entered the room. I cried because my purpose on this earth was being magnified; I had helped to give a body to one of Heavenly Father's children. I cried because I had been terrified you would die. I cried because they took you away before I could see your face. I cried because we had survived, and you were mine.
A few minutes later the nurses brought you back in to me. They laid you in my arms. You were all pink and wrapped in a funny hospital blanket with a funny unisex hat on your head. But you were still the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. You looked like your dad, and you looked like me. And your eyes were open and looking at us with so much naked dependence and vulnerability-- a blank slate with a little spirit inside for us to protect and guide and love.
I love you, Cannon McKay Thurber.
Love,
Mommy
Stay tuned for Parts 2 and 3!

7 comments:
Wow! We are pretty attached to this little one, too. =) Loved the last two pictures the most.
Sorry, the first comment above was repeated, so I deleted it. I'm guilty.
Becky - thanks for sharing this special experience with all of us! Loved it!
Becky, you are a wonderful writer with a tender mother heart. This is such a touching account that Cannon will treasure when he's older. He is so lucky to have you and Clint as parents.
Very touching momento and great pictures. That little guy has great parents, now tell him to gain some weight if he doesn't want to be a wide receiver his whole life.
P.S., Austin can help with that.
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