Exactly one year ago, I was trying to fall asleep as wave after wave of contractions assailed me.
After 12 hours of labour, Zac arrived and stole our hearts forever and ever.
My second-born has been everything I had hoped for and more. He makes me laugh every single day and makes my heart sing. Every night, I settle into bed next to him and give his noggin’ a little sniff before I drift off into sleep. And in the mornings, I wake to his loud and vociferous complaining that he is the only one who is awake. He sees me crack open my eyelid and bursts into the biggest and brightest smile.
You know how some women wonder if they would be able to love their second-born as much as they do their first? I never had that doubt. From the moment I knew I was pregnant, I was already in love. I knew that I would love him the same way I love his brother, and that I would love him in different ways too.
With Aidan, I approached his first birthday with a sense of relief that we had somehow survived parenthood. His birth had been a huge shock to our systems, our lives, and we had gotten through a year without killing anybody.
But now, with Zac, all I can feel is a sense of wistful nostalgia, that time had passed by so quickly. He’s also my last baby so this feels extra poignant.
Tomorrow morning when he wakes, he will be One. Wow.
Yannisms 