It came and went

My baby boy is one year old. His birthday came and went without much fanfare. A birthday card from his great-grandparents. A birthday phone call from my MIL. A little extra snuggling time as I realized how fast he's grown, and how he won't fit in my arms much longer.

Thankfully, his birthday was tear-free for me. No repressed memories struggling to the surface. No panic attacks with fuzzy recollection of  the lights in the OR. I guess this means I'm really back to myself - that calm and happy person who rarely cries and never in front of others. Who has her shit together and confronts each day with a plan and a purpose. Maybe things are a bit more helter-skelter than they were pre-baby, but I wouldn't have it any other way. In the end, he's totally worth it.

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