For me, it was working on a solo project for a large charity in the UK. They were releasing a service in 18 months time that hooked up to a bespoke API, and I was very keen to ensure that we built something robust and simple.
It was a lot of hard work, and throughout the project I had felt that things weren't going to go well. The deadline for certain bits was pushed back, and I overheard some moans from one of the junior devs about how things were set up, but we persevered. After spending time with the client, I had the feeling that they had severely underestimated the amount of load they'd receive, so much of the architecture was built around clever caching, and reducing load on the API. I also wanted to keep things really basic, so that anyone could take over the project and build on top of it.
We made the final (hard) deadline, and the site went live. We went to London to meet the client on go-live day, and we sat there watching the usage stats, and initially thought that there was a mistake when we saw 5000 concurrent users on the site over lunch. They were getting millions of users a day, and IIRC the site was paid for after two weeks. There were some issues, and we got a bit scared when they said they had to set up a brand-new call centre to deal with website issues, but at that scale we discovered that this call centre was dealing with less than 0.1% of users, so everyone deemed the project a success.
It was a fairly typical project, but it was great to be able to lead a project from start to finish, and to have everyone happy. Most importantly, it was the first time I actually felt proud of my dev abilities. I could finally claim to have built something that loads of people use and rely on.