It's official. Irina was born.

Yes, we finally got a birth certificate for Irina. It only took us 3 years, 11 months, 3 weeks, and 3 days to haul our asses down to the health department and get it done. Why, you may ask, did we wait so long? I don't have a really good answer for that. I could say I was feeling resentful of the intrusion of bureaucracy into our lives and irritated that I needed a piece of paper to say that she really exists. I could say that I'm just a horrible procrastinator and knowing that once 4 years had passed, I would have to go through the state capitol and get a delayed birth certificate, was a guarantee that I was going to put it off until the very last minute because that's just my nature.

And that's all true, but I think the main reason I put it off and put it off and put it off? I was nervous and didn't know what to expect. I knew we didn't have everything they wanted us to have (namely doctor's records from before and after the birth) and I guess I was just worried about facing judgment. I know we didn't make a conventional choice and I know it was within their power to simply type up the document or to make a fuss and refuse us just because they don't understand our choices. Well, maybe it never was within their power, but I guess I've heard too many stories where people were stuck in red tape just trying to get what every human being has a right to, regardless of birth choices.

But it was nothing. It was easy. Easy peasy. The woman in charge of home births was very nice and only mildly scolded us for waiting for so long. I guess some of the ease has to do with the state I'm in, and for that I'm grateful. As my friend Tara said, Nevada wants those voters. And knowing how easy it was means I'm not going to sit on my ass for nearly 4 years when this new baby comes along.

I am so ridiculously relieved that this little detail is taken care of and not hanging over my head any longer. I'm kind of irritated with myself at how relieved I am.