Jamie was conceived a year ago today. (Yes, I thought that might grab your attention).
I know this because the Conservative Party Conference begins in Birmingham in a few hours. And this day last year, I was preparing to go to Blackpool for the 2007 event where I spent the next four days (without Vanessa).
According to the calculations, the moment when Mr Sperm and Miss (or Ms?) Egg got their act together was either on that Sunday or in the handful of days immediately afterwards. However, it clearly couldn't physically have happened whilst I was at the conference (I'll resist milkman references at this point).
I can also guarantee that it didn't happen in the days following my return either since I was recovering from something close to alcohol poisoning and therefore didn't have babies as a priority.
So that Sunday it was.
I actually remember quite a bit about the day in question. We made a baby, had breakfast, went into Leeds to find a new suit, I ironed my shirts (modern man, me) whilst listening to now Presidential hopeful John McCain speak at said conference which had already started and then watched Argentina hammer Ireland in the Rugby World Cup (the reason I delayed my departure to Blackpool).
Then I got on the Blackpool train, got off, got lost, found my B&B, met up with some familiar faces at a conference hotel and stayed up for most of the night "catching up on old times." All good fun.
I'm not sure how quickly these things happen but, for all I know, Jamie consisted of at least four cells by the time I finally got to bed - or maybe even eight.
Happy first birthday to them all.