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I want to mark today even though I don’t really know what to call it. Bizarre really when today is such an important occasion.

Today Alfie has been his own person longer than he was part of me. Today is 43 weeks and 1 day since he was born.

Moments like this are the sort of occasion where you look back, and really take stock.

I realise I have never really spoken about Alfie’s birth, and the aftermath it left. I realise I have never blogged about how hard I worked to talk out the negative feelings surrounding the pressure to be induced. The feeling of helplessness when there was nobody to support our wish to wait it out. How close I sometimes felt to depression afterwards when all this anger was bubbling up inside me that I didn’t know what to do with.

I’m not sure why I never really talk about this either. It’s not a deliberate ploy on my part, I guess I just always have other things to say on here.

Like the fact that Alfie has now moved onto “ooooo” noises. In fact they are his current obsession. Everything is either “Ooooo” or “Mmmmm-bah”. He has about a hundred different variations on those noises to describe any given situation.

He also loves to sing, especially first thing in the morning and in the shower. He is used to me singing to him in the shower (mainly the classics, like old Satchmo and Nina) and if I don’t start quickly enough he does it for me. He sounds like Mogwai from Gremlins and I’m going to make it my mission to get a recording of it somehow so I can play it to him when he’s a grumpy teenager.

He is also going bundles on walking. He can happily toddle behind a walker, or if you take his hands, and he’ll quite happily stand if you let him go ... until he realises and then he instantly crash lands.

I’m sure most working parents must feel this way, but I wasn’t prepared for how quickly he would grow up, or how much he would change while I was away. Every day I come home and he’s a slightly different little boy. I tell him to slow down, there’s no rush, but he still seems to grow up so quickly.

Mostly though, he’s beautiful. I don’t just mean physically - although he has stolen more cutes than any one child is entitled to - he just shines, and he makes us shine along with him. I wish somebody had told me earlier how amazing it felt to have your child just take your breath away with the light they bring to your life.

Something else has happened in the last 43 weeks too. At some point, I stopped waiting for his mum to arrive. He really feels like my son now, how cool is that?

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