Tomorrow's my birthday! I still get ridiculously excited about birthdays... I've never really known why, but I suspect it's something to do with being frequently told as a little girl about my very dangerous birth which 'almost killed' my mother and me. (I was placenta praevia - the minute birth began, my life support system was gone and my mother was bleeding to death. Luckily she was in the operating theatre so an emergency C-section saved our lives).
Birthdays were always a bit of a strange time for me, with Mum recalling the birth story in very dramatic fashion. In some way she blamed me for her ill-health afterwards, and we never really bonded as I would have liked. I think for me, a birthday was a day which had the potential for that magical, story-book Mummy to appear. In fact, I got a bit of a self-pitying thing about them as the day itself was very often either on August Bank Holiday or the Sunday and so cards would rarely arrive on time. For some reason this mattered terribly to me; I took it as a personal slight.
However, these days I just love being around to celebrate Life. Cards are a bonus. And I still get that little-girl excitement about my birthday... Tomorrow I'll tell you how it went!
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