This time last year I had a list as long as my arm of things to do. The list had been revised, cut and added to a number of times. However, the last thing always remained the same – have baby.

I was 9 months pregnant and we had moved into our house only 10 days earlier. There were boxes everywhere. I was just beginning to adjust to not being at work and saw each day as having an infinite capacity for fitting things in. The midwife even obliged by saying she thought this one would be late. There was a lot to get done before this baby arrived.

So this time last year I had a few things to get done and I was busy. I baked 40 chocolate chip cookies, unpacked some boxes, sewed the binding onto the grandmothers fan quilt and pieced the small checkered boarder on this round robin.

The quilting group I belong to in Wellington had been working on the round robin quilts for about a month. We each had 4 weeks to add a boarder and pass each piece on.

I didn't think I would be making it to the next meeting and really didn't want to let the side down so I had to make it to quilting. The small problem being, I didn't live in Wellington any more. In fact, Wellington was now over and hour away with a rather large hill in the way – the infamous RIMUTAKAS.

My parents were very accommodating and only let me go to Wellington on the condition that I went with my brother and stayed the night at my Aunt's. My husband was not too impressed but saw that I was being my usual stubborn self and let me go.

So, I made it to quilting, took some of the aforementioned cookies to share and had a great evening.

As I was leaving a friend commented that you know you are due to have a baby when the nesting urge kicks in. Apparently she got rather irrational, accused her husband of some dire things only to be told by him that she was nesting. When she went into labour a few hours later, she had to concede.

I smugly thought to myself “I am not nesting, I'm always like this.”

You can see where this is going.

At 1am I woke feeling a little odd. After returning from the bathroom, texted my brother, who was at his girlfriend's place, to get him to pick me up. I texted my dearest to say I was heading home.

Darling brother hastily picked me up, after telling his girlfriend that I was a little home sick and started to drive me home. I optimistically thought of all the midwife had told me. You know it can be up to 2 days after the first signs before giving birth. Make that 8 hours in my case.

That trip over the Rimutakas would have to be the eeriest drive ever. From the foot of the first set of hills there was not a car to be seen in any direction. When asked if I was ok and if there were any contractions, I had to say no all the while staring at the clock and counting the minutes between them.

I was dropped home and a few hours later took off to the hospital.

I can't remember many of the details, but distinctly recall my dearest eating the last of the cookies while in the final stages of labor at 8am, later that morning.

If you had asked me that day, I can only say I was glad I was prepared.

If you asked me today, I might, just maybe, admit I was nesting. And of course I would have to add

Happy First Birthday Little E.