I knew when the baby was coming. I just did. I spent Saturday cleaning the house the best I could because I knew it would be a while before I could do it again. I went to bed, knowing I'd promptly start active labor (and Braxton-Hicks had been going on for days). I promptly did. That very day, my sweet friend had been inspired to offer herself as a babysitter if anything should happen in the night. So I took her up on the offer! And off we went to the hospital.
It still took longer than I expected; I'm not much of a night owl, so I was tired by the end! In fact, I was a little more than annoyed at everyone's serenity when I had a baby seemingly stuck in the birth canal; it just didn't seem right and I jokingly begged for someone to grab her by the hair and help a mother out. But, it was overall a good experience--what with mantras, essential oils, pressure points, etc., from the hubberooski...who, incidentally, should probably be awarded an honorary doula certificate. He's a good guy.
Over a year later, this sweet baby is the only one immune to any wrath/jealousy/negativity that may come up in one of her siblings. They still love her so much. What a blessing!