The Real Truth Behind Birth Days

May 23^rd, 2007 is probably going to end up being the most significant date in my entire life.

Apart from being World Turtle Day, that happens to be my daughter’s birthday.

But why it is really significant for me, is that it was the day I became a mother.

Nothing I had done prior to this, and probably nothing I will do subsequently will ever come close to the momentousness of becoming a parent for the first time. It changes literally everything about you, from the way you think, to the way you look, to the way you sleep.

Becoming a parent affects everything, from the big (your legal status and financial responsibilities) to the small (going to the toilet with the door open no longer concerns you). Although some might argue that how you spend the next ten years toileting is actually quite a big deal.

Becoming a parent is hands down the most intense, rewarding, exhausting, terrifying, unpredictable and hilarious thing I have ever done.

And the thing is, on the 23^rd May all those years ago, sure, my daughter got born. But I was the one who did all the work, so (and I am going to be brutally honest here) why does she get all the presents today?

She didn’t have to do anything yet somehow, she is one with the brand new Lego set, a new umbrella, books, clothes and a fancy highlighters from Smiggle. She is the one waltzing into school with 24 chocolate cupcakes and a ‘birthday girl’ badge, getting slaps on the back and hugs from her friends.

Excuse me, what about me? My left hip will never be the same again after your ill-positioned position in utero and don’t even get me started on my poor boobs.

Isn’t it about time that we remember what birthdays actually are: the anniversary of a birth. And the poor schmuck who actually gives birth should be more than just the person who is expected to bake those 24 chocolate cupcakes.

[Ring ring. Ring ring]

Oh wait. Someone is telling me that is actually what Mothers Day is meant to be for.

Okaaaaay. Sorry about that. Let’s try a new tack…

On the 17^th of February, again in 2007, I had my one and only baby shower. 

It was a pretty special day, because it happened to be my mum’s birthday and also in attendance was my now deceased grandmother. My mother reminded me that exactly 59 years prior, my Grandma had been in labour with her first child, in a time before baby showers, and ultrasounds, and most of the things we now take for granted. Like Facebook.

She asked me to acknowledge this during the baby shower, as she wanted to recognise that her birthday was actually a very special day for her mother.

Just as today, I am feeling pretty special. I look at my daughter, finally seven (only seven!) and think of everything I have already achieved and how much I have ahead of me.

She will prove to be my greatest teacher.

So, as well as wishing the Bombshell a Happy 7^th Birthday, I also want to send my love and appreciation to all the other mums out there who are celebrating the most momentous occasion of their lives.

Happy Birth Days, mums.

We did good.

The Bombshell, two months old

Happy 7th birthday