one whole year

One year ago today, I woke up at 5:10 a.m. My abdomen hurt. My pelvis ached. I thought to myself, I wonder if I should call my midwife. I have been having contractions regularly for three days straight. Nah, I'm not due for another two weeks, and that doesn't even take into consideration that the other three were about two weeks late. Besides, if I call her at this hour of the day and complain because my vagina hurts? I'll probably get smacked at my next appointment.

So I didn't call. I got out of bed, went to the bathroom just like every other pregnant lady, and went back to bed. I laid there for a while, aching, feeling a little bit off, and as much as I was able, I tossed and turned.

At 5:30 a.m., I got back out of bed and went to the bathroom. Again. And oddly enough, the toilet was INCREDIBLY COMFORTABLE. So I sat there until it stopped being comfy, at which point I stood up, and leaned on the sink. It felt nice (nicer) to sway back and forth, so I did that for a while.

I was jarred from my swaying stupor by an odd noise. I stopped, listened. What was that? I became irritated. Who was making that ridiculous mooing noise? Somebody was awake and being loud and God help them I was not in the mood.

Get it? MOOD? I slay me.

The moo-er was me. I was mooing. Why was I mooing? Right! I was having a baby. In my bathroom. This, my friends, was not expected. Well, naturally I *expected* to have a baby, sometime, someplace else, not RIGHT THEN and not IN MY BATHROOM.

I woke The Mister. I called the midwife. I called my MIL. The Mister woke up, the midwife didn't, the MIL ran up the street. Seven minutes after arriving at the hospital, and without a single contraction, wee Elliott emerged with two fantastic pushes. The ER doc standing at the end of the bed told me to wait, so I horrified him by cranking out my babe and a horde of gypsy 'roids.

And now he's one.

He laughs.

He pats his head when he wants his blanket.

He loves to be held close.

Loves the sling.

He is a complete mama's boy, but loves his daddy like crazy.

His sister is his very best friend

in the entire world

*and*

he will not go to bed at night

*until*

he has been held one more time by her.

He has the oddest crawl of any child I've ever seen.

He cruises the furniture.

He applauds himself.

He is chill and happy and healthy,

and sure I'm biased,

but he's the most adorable creature

on the face of this earth.

And now he's one.