Megan Elizabeth, my Meggie Moo, a whopping 10lbs 1oz and far hairier than you might expect, but beautiful nonetheless. The last of my children, forever and a day, my baby girl.
So, why am I writing about her today? It's not her birthday, she's not about to leave home. She hasn't just announced her intention to get married / travel the world / take herself off to a nunnery. Nothing significant, nothing earth-shattering. And yet, something is changing.
A few weeks ago she passed her driving test. Tonight, when we both got in from work, she wanted me to look at AutoTrader with her, to help her buy a car.
Of course I'm pleased that she passed her test - not least because I'd given a promise, as a 21st birthday present, that I would pay for however many lessons she needed to get her through.
And now that she's legally allowed to drive, of course I want her to be able to do so. I realise there might even be a chance, every now and then, that she will pick me up, or take me somewhere.
So all is good. And things are moving on as I'd hoped and expected they might. Except...except....
I've always been the one who took her places.
....... the trips backwards and forwards, night after night, to her dancing lessons, singing along to the songs of the Beautiful South. With my choice of music making its way, indelibly, into her brain. I need a little time our inappropriate duet.
........the time I set out in a hideous snow storm to see her perform in Fiddler on the Roof at school, because I couldn't bear that she wouldn't have anyone there to watch her, and the hairy scary, slipping, sliding drive home again.
........the journey to Leeds University, where she sobbed every inch of the way
........the trip back home again, with me pretending I was cross that she'd given up university, when really I was just pleased to have her back.
........the countless lifts to the station, to her friends' houses, to visit family; all with a backdrop of overly loud singing to songs from musicals.
I know that there will be plenty of other trips. I'm sure I'll still be driving her around for years - particularly when she finds out just how much it costs to insure a car.
But today, I can't help but feel just a tiny bit sad.