Sophie's birth, the end and the beginning

So where was I? This typing of her birth has been interesting. I struggle to be honest in relating the experience without having one of those "why-are-you-telling-me-this-scary-scary-story?!" stories. Sophie's birth was one of the hardest, most beautiful experiences in my life. It rocked me. How does one go about getting that into words on a page?

I digress (I love that phrase by the way).
Back to the story.

After I negotiated for and spent my half hour of time, they came in to start up my contractions. I prayed to get past the 6cm mark I had reached and not passed before. I prayed that I would get there fast (remember this party had started on Thursday and now it is Saturday am). I prayed for no c-section, but most of all I prayed my baby was healthy.
My body did its thing with the jump start they gave it. Although the epidural hadn't "taken" in my right leg, this actually allowed me to support myself upright while pushing. Did I mention the pushing? Did I mention the relief when the nurse told me I had dilated and it was time to push (no c-section!)? Not to brag, but I pushed like a champ. They were talking about me on the floor the next week; "Oh you were the record-setting pusher." Yup, that was me. I wanted my baby out and in my arms before any other craziness could happen. I squatted and pushed. My nurses were wonderful too. At one point they asked if I wanted a mirror to see her (gross, I had thought before) and to my surprise I did. There was nothing more motivating than seeing this little body start to emerge.
Husband got to announce her gender (although one of the nurses thought he forgot because he hesitated), and then they whisked her off since she had inhaled meconium with her first cry. That started a week of IV treatments in the hospital, which is in and of itself a whole other story.
Forever I will remember two things very distinctly about the moments after she was born. First, Sophie was taken to a table where a team suctioned her, etc. She was crying. Then Husband walked over and started talking, and with that my baby girl started craning her head around in search of the voice that had talked to her for the past months. She knew her daddy's voice so well. The second memory was while this was occurring I just started to cry (I'm not really a huge crier) and a nurse asked what was wrong. "I want my baby!" was all I could wail. After the ordeal the three of us had been through, even those few moments of her being separated from me felt like torture. They eventually brought her back, we tried for our first feeding and life as a family of three had begun.