I cannot recall what the weather was like on the day Lola was born. Yesterday I looked at pictures of my boss' daughter giving birth. It was a beautiful series of a beautiful event. The soon-to-be mother had her eyes closed for the duration of the birth. She probably won't remember what the weather was like either.
I caught myself looking at the clock frequently yesterday, counting the hours until 9:00 PM. That was the hour my water broke two years previous, announcing Lola's arrival. Two years ago at this very moment I was still huffing and puffing away. And counting my way through contractions. I counted for 23 hours straight.
Lola is not yet aware of the significance of her birthday. I am. It is more than the day she was born. For me it is the anniversary of The Day A Mother Was Born. I know in time, when Lola gets older, this day will be all about her. And that is as it should be. But for now, it is very much about me, too.
Happy Birthday, Lolalief. I love you. I am deeply honored, grateful, and blessed to be your mother. And Happy Birth Day, me!