My baby was nine months old and strong enough to say he would survive, so I took him to meet with a genetic doctor. When he was still in my womb and a newborn baby, having a chromosome disorder meant I had the option to give up on him, which filled me with a rage I never felt before.
He and I sat down with a member of the genetic team to go over his defects and family history. She got to my medical history as she smiled and wished me a happy birthday. Stunned, I asked her to repeat what she said.
"You have listed that January ten is your birthday. Today is the tenth of January. Happy birthday." She stated as she looked at me nervously. I apologized and thanked her as graciously as I could, but silently I didn't care what the date was. I was numb at that point, not caring about anything but my baby and striving to get him help. I had stopped caring about my appearance by that time. I kept my hair in a ponytail because I stopped combing it for the sight of all the hair in my brush sickened me. Showering, sleeping and eating were a luxury I did not partake in often. I wanted to yell at her, "Do I look like I care that I'm a year older?!?".
I would have many more birthdays come and go without celebrating them, until the year I turned forty. I was fully intending not to celebrate that birthday also, but my dear friends showed up unexpectedly to celebrate with me. I showed up, freshly showered with my hair done and a little too much makeup on. We laughed and danced as I had my fair share of alcoholic drinks. I was a different woman, without a care in the world. My friends may not admit it, but what they did for me that day was indescribable.
My next birthday, I sent my baby to his first day of school, in his perfect class and teacher that I was told he would never be blessed to have. I started to see a pattern that my birthdays were blessings, not receiving the ordinary birthday presents and birthday cake, but rather, receiving gifts of love and accomplishments.
My last two birthdays consisted of spending time with my boys doing goofy things such as watching firemen trying to ride donkeys on a basketball court, as my phone went off the hook with my friends and family sending me their love and birthday wishes. This year, I purchased a birthday cake just for the fact that my baby, who's turning into a young man, loves birthday cake and blowing out candles. He walked around all day saying I was forty three, knowing when he went back to school, he would tell his teacher and classmates how old his "Momma" is.
Long gone are the days when I am full of despair and sadness. The love and strength I have been blessed with would never allow that.
Birthdays are not a dreaded event that only shows you that you are getting older. It is truly a celebration of life for you and those around you. Embrace them and treasure them all the days of your life.
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