This is the day you came into the world. A day to celebrate you. But it doesn't just belong to you. There is a flip side to every birthday that belongs to a mother; the story of the months and then the hours leading to the moment you arrived.
This day, while yours from here into the future, stands still for her, indelibly etched, unforgettable.
Do you know your story?
Growing up, we don't dwell on these things. But motherhood gives a unique perspective, like an opaque mirror; her on one side, you on the other.
Watch: Mia Freedman on why being a mother of son's is like a slow break-up. Post continues below.
In the lead-up to the birth of my little sister's baby boy, I was thinking about this a lot.
How every baby is carried differently, each pregnancy with its own quirks – a craving for bananas and toasted cheese sandwiches, debilitating nausea, carrying high, carrying low, carrying wide, backache, headache, no sleep, a sleep pillow, new marks on your body, the sudden appearance of veins just below the surface of your skin, the fluttering of something tiny but definite deep within. No matter what, you are altered, outside and in, forever.