Eight years ago tonight, I went into labour for the second time.
I was so sick of being pregnant (big baby, middle of summer, due date passed), I dosed myself with black cohosh tincture and some sort of leafy tea stuff (raspberry leaf, probably).
It worked, and I started having regular contractions right around this time of night.
My youngest was born a few hours later (I don't know the exact time, let's say 2:23 am or so).
Tonight it occurred to me that I started feeling exceptionally lonely right around the time T8YO was born, but it didn't have to do with him coming along as it did with the rest of my crazy life. I think my bipolar disorder really started taking off during my pregnancy, but it went largely unnoticed (and of course, totally undiagnosed).
Right now I'm looking forward to the cake I've got to bake in the morning, the decorating we will be doing later, and the happiness it all will inspire. Birthdays are special to me, and I like celebrating them. My *kids* birthdays are even more special, as I carried and gave birth to them. Both of the boys are fans of the birthday celebrations we have. Here's to many more.
Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of my boy as a baby, but I do have one from yesterday. He's a fine big boy.