16 years ago yesterday I felt very close to death, giving birth. If you ever wondered why countries measure what percentage of women die in childbirth, it's because you've never given birth, or seen someone do it. It is astonishing to me how many women have a second child, and seem not to remember the horror of spitting out that giant package of flesh topped off by a pumpkin sized head, out of an exit that is not big enough for such a task. That we celebrate the child's birthday rather than the mother's survival is one of the great injustices of our time, right up their with unequal pay and civil rights.
But what does go by in a flash, with little of the pain remembered, is that baby's growing up. I am still recovering from the shock of 16 years that have gone by in a blink.
16 years of bad hair cuts.