I turned 34 on the 28th of January. What a strange thing! I have never doubted the fact (!) that I will live until I’m probably around 114 years old, but it never crossed my mind that I would ever be thirty four. For someone whose life is so much about birth, one would think maybe that my own birthday would be a cause for celebration, but it makes me quite grumpy–not the getting old part, but the entire sadness of life and change part. And I think the reason for this must be that my own birth was such a traumatizing fiasco, but then again, where would I be if not for that story of drama and survival? My mum yelling and fighting, my dad doing his best to help by threatening to break the anaesthesiologists arms (oops dad) the forced epidural, the pretext of the nuchal cord, the whisking me off to lie in an incubator for my first several hours of life on earth, and then the horrible sad triumph of my mother finding me under glass after staggering out of the hospital bed and through the halls looking for her baby. So, you know, this whole birth activism thing makes sense. And thanks Mum. I love you.
Because I worked so hard on this self-conscious and ridiculous birthday Facebook status post, I’ll share it with you again, here: “Hello everyone! Even though my number one birthday wish of being completely left alone for three straight hours in order to actually get some work done for once did not come to pass, I did receive the very special gift that was Lee pretending to agree with me while I talked about Feminism over breakfast, even though we later had a fight about his refusal to accept the truth that the smell of the shirt had nothing to do with what he was talking about and that he was completely wrong. Oh well. Apparently being 34 does not magically grant me patience or kindness or emotional intelligence. I had been looking forward to meeting up with all of my amazing women friends that evening, but I wisely canceled due to the storm, and then luxuriated in feeling a little bit sorry for myself while I stayed up to clean the kitchen. The day after my birthday however, when I thought the coast was clear, I was accosted in the very sweetest way by A. and L. who were apparently in cahoots to make sure I did get the cake I so richly deserve ( M. you’re off the hook!) and I can officially say that after my mother’s famous carrot cake, it was the best birthday cake I have ever had (thank you A. ♥). And to top off the birthday surprises and celebrations, Cosmo started to say “Mama! Mama!” out of the blue, which is the best thing in the world, and it’s quite wonderful to start off my 34th year on earth with so much love and appreciation for my adorable, mischievous, gorgeous children, for my husband who heroically shovelled all the snow, and for all of you, my delightful friends.”