My Birthday

It is my birthday today. I have been thinking about my Mum all day.

As I was going to sleep I thought ‘She already knew I was coming 27 years from now, I wonder how she was feeling’.

Each time I woke up for the bathroom in the middle of the night I thought ‘She was still going through labour this time 27 years ago’.

And then when I finally woke up at 5.30 in the morning I thought ‘She was getting her first look at her first child this time 27 years ago’ (I was born at 5.20 a.m. on 31 October 1980).

When she called today to wish me a happy birthday I nearly cried telling her how I had been thinking about her. She said ‘Now do you understand why it is so important to a mother to see her children on their birthday?’.

This is the first year that I have realised that my birthday is so important to someone other than myself.

Sitting with my husband eating breakfast this morning we were playing the ‘this time last year’ game (e.g. ‘This time last year we were still planning the wedding’, ‘This day 3 years ago you asked me to marry you and we had just bought our apartment’, etc).

This of course turned into the ‘this time next year’ game. I wanted to cry (noticing a theme here? Crying has become very common to me!). This time next year my baby will be crawling around the house; this time next year I will not feel my baby kicking inside me as I eat breakfast; this time next year I will not be with my baby for the entire day; this time next year other people will be able to hold my baby rather than just me; this time next year my baby will (sometimes) find more joy in a pile of toys than it does in me.

Ok, so I know it was way over the top, however, it made me realise, that as uncomfortable as I am at the moment, I don’t think I am ready for the pregnancy to be over. Of course I look forward to holding the baby in my arms, but I am almost dreading waking up and not having the baby completely attached to me.