So today's my birthday, and baby boy turned one month on the 27th. It's been a crazy year. It was really trying at times, but it ended on such a happy note.
It's strange how insignificant my birthday is this year. Past years, I tried to blot out the pain of infertility and loss by packing it full of plans. I made sure to fill it with people and places that would make me smile, because I knew that by the end of the night I'd probably cry. This year, I've known it was coming up but there are no plans. I'm content with letting my birthday pass unacknowledged.
Past years, it was very difficult. I spent four birthdays with infertility. Three years ago on my birthday I ovulated, which resulted in a pregnancy that ended in a miscarriage. I've thought of that baby on my birthday every year since then. That was the farthest I'd made it before V. That one was the most traumatizing.
This year, I definitely count my good fortune. V is here, alive and well, and he gave me the most beautiful smiles this morning. I think the most I could ask for today is some more sleep, especially since he's been cluster feeding all weekend. But on the list of things to want, that's pretty awesome from where I'm sitting.