We're having a baby today!

The phone rang at 7:16 on Saturday morning.

Before I even checked the caller ID, I could have bet an entire year’s salary that my notoriously early-rising mother was on the other end. It doesn’t matter if it’s a weekend, holiday or vacation. My mother is up at 6:00 a.m. and firmly believes the rest of the world should follow suit.

I answered the phone, mildly annoyed that my dream of strolling along the beaches of Malibu hand in hand with George Clooney had come to an abrupt end.

Through the cobwebs in my throat, I managed to eke out a faint, “Hello?”

“We’re having a baby today!” my mother announced enthusiastically.

I went from zero to one hundred in 2.6 seconds.

“Oh my God! Alba’s in labor?”

Alba is my sister-in-law.

“Yep. Her water broke at 5:00 this morning. Your father and I are on our way to the hospital.”

Suddenly, George Clooney was on his own.

I told my mom I needed to get a few things in order and would get to the hospital as quickly as possible. I lived two hours away, so I figured it would be around noon before I could meet up with everyone.

After a quick shower, packing toothbrushes, getting the dog boarded and filling the car with gas, which at the time practically required a meeting with my loan officer, my son and I were Palm Springs bound to meet the newest member of our family.

Armed with bagels, coffee and a DVD to keep my son entertained, I made my way across the 210, 15 and 10 freeways and arrived at the hospital in a record hour and a half.

My father was beaming when he met us at the front of the hospital.

The excitement of the day was just beginning.

Despite already having three grandchildren, this would be the first time my parents were actually at the hospital for the birth of one. Their other grandchildren had either arrived too quickly or had been born on the opposite coast.

This birth would be different.

When I arrived at my sister-in-law’s birthing suite, she was in wonderful spirits. No stress. No pain. Radiating.

She had just turned 40, and this was her first child. She’d had a wonderful pregnancy, and we could only hope and pray that the birth would be equally wonderful.

Having endured a 34-hour labor myself, only to ultimately have a C-section, I wanted nothing but the best possible experience for Alba.

She is one of the sweetest sisters-in-law anyone could ask for. She adores my brother, loves and respects my parents, and is bright, sweet, hardworking and always putting others first. When she and my brother married, I told him that we loved Alba so much that if things didn’t work out between them, we were keeping her and getting rid of him.

Fortunately for my brother, they are such soulmates that I’m certain they’ll be together for all time.

As Alba’s contractions grew closer together and more painful, she pleaded with me to find the anesthesiologist and have him administer an epidural. Or, as the nurses affectionately called it, “the special cocktail.”

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s to follow the firm directive of a woman in labor.

The nurses quickly produced the anesthesiologist, who served up the much-needed special cocktail.

Alba was now in epidural heaven.

Life was good again.

Labor continued throughout the late afternoon and into the evening. Finally, around 7:00 p.m., the nurses announced that she was fully effaced and dilated.

It was time to push.

Now, here’s where things get funny.

Alba thought perhaps six good pushes would get the baby out.

My mother and I thought maybe nine.

We were only off by about two hours and 40 pushes.

Alba had asked my mother and me to be with her during the delivery. I was incredibly touched and honored that she wanted us there.

And so there we were. The three of us.

Three women, bound together by family, sharing one of life’s most extraordinary experiences: watching a new life enter the world.

With every push, we pushed with her.

With every deep breath, we breathed with her.

With every moment of progress, we experienced it together, hand in hand.

There was something incredibly powerful about it. Three women from the same family, gathered around one another as another generation prepared to take his first breath.

Finally, after all the waiting, Alba’s extraordinary effort and the work of a stellar medical team, Loren Craig entered the world.

Eight pounds, six ounces.

Twenty inches long.

Perfect.

The joy that filled that room was boundless. There were tears, hugs, laughter and complete awe at the sight of this beautiful new little soul.

For a few moments, everything else simply disappeared.

I had never felt closer to the women in my family than I did at that moment.

Then the nurses placed Loren into his mother’s waiting arms.

He opened his eyes.

And the first face he saw was hers.

He seemed to recognize her. He listened as she spoke to him in that soft, sweet voice he had already been hearing for months. Watching that immediate bond between mother and child was almost indescribable.

And suddenly, I was transported back to the moment my own son was first placed in my arms.

I remembered the warmth that washed over me.

A kind of liquid love, if you will.

It was instantaneous. Fierce. Almost overwhelming.

This beautiful baby I had longed for was finally here. He was healthy. He was adorable.

He was mine.

And in that moment began a bond that I knew could never be broken.

Watching Alba hold Loren brought all of those feelings rushing back, only this time I was privileged to witness them from the other side.

I will never forget watching my nephew come into this world. I will forever be grateful to my sister-in-law for giving my mother and me the extraordinary gift of witnessing the beginning of a new life.

Some days blur together with time. Others remain so vivid that you can return to them years later and still remember the voices, the faces, the laughter, the tears and exactly how your heart felt.

This will always be one of those days.

This was the day we had a baby.