Ten years ago I was in a hospital bed, in pain, begrudgingly listening to the midwives celebrate their early New Year.
My labour had been long already: my 9lb 7oz son was posterior and so the pain on my spine was pretty much unbearable. It took the shine off what was meant to be a wonder event in my life and later caused extreme anxiety when I conceived my third child.
But less of that. Ten years ago, despite our problems, I was still madly in love with my husband. In the months that would follow I would watch the clock, waiting for him to come home from work and greet his family of three.
We had just finished building our home and had just moved in. We had celebrated our first Christmas there surrounded by family including my grandad – my hero – the last Christmas he would ever have.
That next year I would be getting married, my beautiful three year old daughter a bridesmaid. My grandad died only two weeks later.
Ten years ago, despite life’s ups and downs, I was happy: I had started my own family and was building a home together.
Tonight, my three children in bed, I have blown up the balloons and put up the banners alone. It is a weird sensation: oddly lonely. Life was so different back then somehow.
But you have to look forward or, more specifically, look to the now. I have three beautiful children now and still live in the home that we built. I don’t know what is around the corner but I know what is important. My job is to make my children feel as happy and secure as I can. My job is to make them feel loved every single day just like I promised to do I’m those precious moments after they were born. And although I would never wish to go through that pain again, I would not change it for the world because it gave me my son.
Happy Birthday my buddy.! I love you xxxx
Starting from the Middle 