I'm Glad It's Your Birthday

It occurred to me that I've almost definitely used another line from The Beatles' Birthday as a post title before. Not that it happens often enough or that enough people read this for it to cause confusion, but still. My overwhelming feeling in writing this is that I am very glad that yesterday was somebody's birthday. Especially after waiting nearly an extra 2 weeks for that to be the case!

So somebody now has a birthday on 9 January. This somebody, to be precise. Tristan Rafe, my lovely, squishy bundle of brand new baby! As for the pertinent stats:
Weight: 8 lbs, 8 oz.
Eyes: blue...for now.
Hair: dark brown...for now.
Looks most like: his big brother, who was a similarly difficult-to-disentangle combination of traits from both of us.
Favourite activity: eating. Like a boss. Seriously: it's all this kid does!
Length of labour: About 54 minutes, give or take.

That last one is the scariest! I do intend to chronicle this birth, especially as it's such a contrast to my first birth experience, but it's going to take me a while to find all the right words. As much as I can look back on the experience now as a positive one, I can honestly say that in the moment that I realised just how little control I had in that whole process, it was the single most frightening moment of my life.

For now, though, I'll take a break from reliving the insane rush of that day and just bask in my chubby, snorting, cuddly little boy...and my wriggly, chatty, not-so-little boy, too!