After what seems like decades of waiting, my little girl made her way into the world on March 3rd, 2009. And people hate me for it. Why? Because I’m that .00001% for whom labor is EASY.

Before you jump to the conclusion that I probably also enjoy walking on fire and eating glass as a fun past time, let me tell you that I’ve never particularly liked pain and I go out of my way to avoid it at all costs. I would almost have to say that pain finds me, due to an unfortunate clumsiness that I’ve inherited as part of my genetic makeup. Thanks mom! While I’ve never broken any bones, at age 3 I had a close encounter with some marble steps that left me with a lovely “U-shaped” scar between my eyebrows. Later in life, while trying to show off my sweet Schwinn skills (try saying that 3 times fast) as a kid, I fell off my bike and acquired a permanant scar on my elbow that looks like Antarctica. I’ve managed to avoid any other major pain in life so far, though I will say that I attract paper cuts like Tatiana Del Toro on American Idol attracts annoying.

That said, I was all prepared for the worst when thinking about the birthing process. I’m one of those people who enjoy watching the baby shows on TLC that depict birth like an all out war: blood, guts, yelling…ice chips. There’s just something intriguing about watching someone bring a life into the world. Unfortunately though, they never show those women who have simple births. I mean, who wants to watch Jane Smith sitting peacefully in the hospital, with her hair and makeup perfectly done no less, push twice and produce the world’s next Gerber poster child? I mean, that’s just not reality right? Birthing is all about some poor sweaty woman who’s been in labor for 36 hours with her hair standing up in all directions, cursing the day her husband ever dared to come near her. Armed with the knowledge of every possible birthing situation, I was ready for any scenario:

1. I am eating lunch at Taco Bell while Patrick is at work. Labor starts quickly while I’m enjoying a delicious soft taco. I can’t make it to the hospital so the guy in charge of burrito assembly delivers the baby and uses his burrito-wrapping skills to swaddle baby. All celebrate with cinnamon twists.

2. Make it to the hospital in time to deliver. Endure 4 days of greuling labor. Awarded entry into Guinness Book of World Records as the “Woman With the Longest Labor Ever Recorded.”

3. Overcome by the lure of Subway’s “Five Dollar Foot Long” song, I begin to drive to the nearest Subway when suddenly, labor starts. Have baby in the car with the aid of a nearby jogger. In gratitude, give jogger the other half of my sub.

4. Go into labor and deliver healthy baby. Doctors accidentally switch baby. Spend the rest of my life in confusion trying to figure out whose looks the baby got.

We were ready, we had to be. I had been steadily dilating since week 25, so we had been warned that labor could start any day.We had the overnight bag packed, the nursery decorated, and enough diapers to rival a Pampers warehouse. I made it to 35 weeks and 2 days, and I was due for another weekly checkup. Like any other morning, I woke up, made phone calls for work, and left for my doctor’s appointment. At my appointment, my doctor checked me and made a surprised face. I was 7 centimeters dilated. For those of you who don’t know, 10 centimeters is the “magic number,” the number you have to hit in order to start pushing. Of course, most people KNOW they’re dilating because they feel contractions. Then there’s me, I was feeling nothing.

The doctor told me to drive to the hospital, saying I would probably have the baby that day or the next. Patrick met me at the hospital and we made our way to labor and delivery where, after being treated like a human pincushion as they inserted my IV, they hooked me up to some machines to monitor contractions. Sure enough, I was contracting without feeling much of anything. My family came and we all sat around and watched movies on TV until it was time for the hard work. The whole time, I’m waiting for heavy contractions to hit me and the cursing to begin, but they never came. Eventually, they asked if I would like an epidural. I am a big supporter of not feeling any pain, so while I didn’t need the drugs, I figure it’s an insult to science NOT to accept these wonderful drugs that were created for laboring women to have a comfortable birth. Even the anesthesiologist asked me if I was feeling any pain because I was so calm; I was a bit of an anomaly to all the nurses and medical staff that day.

After 6 1/2 hours of laying around watching TV and talking to my family, the nurses found that I was 10 centimeters dilated and asked if I would like to start pushing. After 30 minutes of pushing, Haley Nicole McCaffrey was born at 6:44 pm at 6 pounds 2 oz and 18 1/2 inches long, which is pretty darn good for a preemie who’s 4 1/2 weeks early. And she was born in time for me to watch American Idol. What a good kid.

After such a calm, easy pregnancy and delivery, the nurses were amazed at how well everything went. A few of them laughed and told me that they hated me for how easy I had it. They also warned me that I’m the kind of person who goes out there and has 20 kids. Maybe I’ll make Guinness Book of World Records afterall.