Day of my Birth

This weekend, I celebrated my 29th birthday. We spent the weekend in St. Cloud at a United Methodist youth convention. Dallas and the kids made me feel special with little notes and roses! But, as much fun as it is to spend the weekend with hundreds of Junior High students, Dallas does have plans to take me out soon!

I spent a good part of my birthday in a hotel room, by myself, while India napped. Or I fed her. Or I changed her. I did get out to enjoy some of the activities of the day, but I spent most of my day thinking not so much about my birthday, but about my actual day of birth.

I thought a lot about my Mom and how she chose life for me, how much pain she went through with me, and then how much joy she had when she finally held me. I also thought about my Dad, and tried to imagine what it must've felt like for him to have a little girl. I wondered if they could've ever guessed what I was going to be like, or if they knew at that moment how much I would change their lives. I thought a lot about life. About my life, and all the effort that so many people have spent on it. I even felt a bit of guilt and unworthiness at that thought. But mostly, I was overwhelmed with love at the thought of so many people investing in me, with no guarantee of a reward, or even a return. I've never spent my birthday thinking that way before. Perhaps it's because I've got a new perspective on birth and life since I had India.

As India went to bed on my birthday, I cuddled her, kissed her, and told her over and over again how much I love her, probably doing the exact same thing my Mom did with me for the very first time, 29 years ago.