I'm on the other end of parenting now but cherish the memories of our births and all that followed.  I am in a community where homebirths were not encouraged and nursing and hands-on mothering were foreign (i.e. let's get a babysitter, can't wait to get the youngest into school, aren't you tired of nursing that kid).  

I was blessed to find a midwife and enjoyed a short and rewarding first birth with our daughter.  We went home from the birth clinic about 2 hours after her birth and reveled in this new life.  

We went through prenatal care up to the eighth month of pregancy with our son but were transferred to a new state via US Army.  I enjoyed a very easy labor (especially since we knew more what to expect) in the hospital waiting room.  We were taken to the exam room and my husband told them the baby would arrive soon.  The nurses said it would not as DOCTOR had not arrived yet and I hadn't been prepped.  Our 10 pound son arrived as the Doctor was slipping his gown on over his golf clothes.  We (baby and I) had to remain in hospital three days (regulations) missing my daughter, whom I had not been separated from, and being alone as a family.  How glorious to return home and all be together.  

Our next birth was preceded by an easy labor at home.  I had my children as well as company over. I finally told them we needed to call my husband but prior to that was enjoying my company and the thought of baby's soon arrival.  My second son was 11 pounds+ but arrived peacefully four hours later with my midwife and hubby there in a nice dimly-lit bedroom.  I nursed my last little one the longest and every moment was so precious, as I knew he was our last. 

Mothering has been a vocation and more rewarding than any endeavor I have ever undertaken. My daughter is getting married in 2 months and is preparing and planning for the time she will be a mother.  That is the richest legacy that I could hope for.