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I needed to make sure she would still love me, respect me, and favor me forever over the friend who'd referred her to me before I could let her hear me ask to be knocked unconscious. I wandered the halls of the Labor and Delivery ward for five hours, riding the vicissitudes of the most incomprehensible pain of my life, when finally, my ego was beat into submission and I asked for "the works."An anesthesiologist who looked young enough to not know who Madonna was walked in and administered an epidural. Howie, Jason, Ana Paula, and my nurse Abby sat with me for over seven hours waiting for my cervix to dilate. Howie told me I'd be meeting my son in less than 20 minutes. Would he ever find a picture of me from middle school with super thin eyebrows?

All the choices I'd made with my life — the weird boyfriends, the bad haircuts, the questionable workout mix tapes — came flooding back to me. I worried that I hadn't done enough with my life, that I wasn't equipped to be the kind of mother he needed, and that I wasn't young enough to be someone his friends would ever consider hot.

When Howie told me to go back to bed and try to sleep, I was skeptical. I, of course, pretended I was miserable so as to give myself an excuse if I suddenly felt like screaming or beating him uncontrollably.

But I assumed that fact that he was an OB/GYN meant he probably did read all the books on my nightstand, and in the event of a forthcoming written exam, he would be the guy I'd need to cheat off of later that day. The streets were empty save for a couple police cars I hoped might try to pull us over. Once at the hospital, I was fingered by roughly three nurses then put on Pitocin to help induce labor.

I cradled him in my arms the way I'd seen people hold babies in movies and tried to console him.

My heart heaved with emotion as I looked into his dark blue eyes.

I guess I should have prepared myself better, but those books made me feel like I was studying for the SAT.

I just figured I'd walk into the hospital, pick D (all of the above), and a baby would appear.

At 41 and a half weeks pregnant, I started to have second thoughts about becoming a mother."You know, I might not be ready for children," I'd tell my husband in complete earnestness as if the subject were still up for debate.

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