Three years old, Darbs! So fast, yet so much has happened in those three years. It's strange to think that he's spent the vast majority of his life in the Middle East, in the northern hemisphere, a long way from Australia. He's celebrated ever one of his three birthdays in Dubai.
This day three years ago was so strange. Things were happening all around and I couldn't quite wrap my head around it. I remember this very morning three years ago, talking to a doctor and saying "Are you really thinking of delivering the baby today?" and him saying "Of course. That's what needs to be done. It's already begun."
Even as I was being wheeled into the theatre, I remember thinking "Goodness, is all this really necessary. It all feels a little too dramatic."
I remember lying in recovery. Alone. Asking if I could go and see my new son and the nurse chuckling, "Goodness, no."
The following few weeks were surreal and strange and unlike what having a new baby was "supposed to be".
At the time I didn't realise it, but I think I was actually quite traumatised by it all. For a long time after, each night I would I lie in bed and I would relive every moment of those few weeks in my head. I guess trying to process it all.
Now, Darbs is the funniest little guy. Not one to cause a fuss. When people hear he was premature and in NICU they are surprised. He's sturdy and big, not fragile and small. I used to wonder if his dramatic start to life would impact him, but I really don't think it has at all. I think even as he gets older and hears about it, he'll be surprised.
He's the most delightful boy. He loves Spiderman and the Hulk and cars and diggers and Super Heroes. He's a boy's boy, despite being surrounded by pink and girls since he was born. He has an incredible imagination and is quite the comedian. We're all so lucky to have him here with us.
Happy birthday, beautiful boy!