Birthday Blues

I was born at 2:05 a.m. on Christmas morning.

I've often wondered what sort of problem that created for Mary, being a single mother of 3 little ones.  Who did she leave them with when she went to the hospital?  Did anyone go with her, or did she make the trip by herself?  Was she angry that I arrived on Christmas Day, effectively keeping her from celebrating it with her children? Was THEIR Christmas an unpleasant one that year because of me?

Because Ava is the oldest---she was 7 when I was born--she seems to remember the most about my arrival, but she tells me she doesn't recall anything specific about Christmas that year. In fact, my appearance was so secretive, she was told she was "imagining" having a baby sister, that it was all in her head.  She never believed it, which I guess explains why she seemed so willing to embrace me when I showed up 47 years later. 

For the first part of my life, Christmas was magical.  In addition to the fun of Christmas presents, I got the added bonus of birthday gifts as well.  Without fail, I always get people who say to me "Oh you were born on Christmas, that must be awful......your birthday probably always got forgotten or combined." But in fact, the opposite is true.  My parents not only gave me birthday presents at Christmas, but to make sure I never felt like my day just got rolled into the holiday commotion, they chose to celebrate my "half birthday" on June 25th each year.  This was when I would have my birthday parties, and I would get presents from them THEN as well. Frankly, it was good to be me.

But Christmas time is complicated for me, especially now, as an adult.  I still love the twinkly lights and magical feeling of the season, but I admit that a certain sadness sets in every year in December. There is a loss there.  For many years, the "loss" was that I wasn't able to find my birthmother, and I felt sad that she probably spent her holidays worrying about me.  Then there were the years AFTER finding her, when I knew she WASN'T thinking of me, and that was a new sort of loss.  The last few years, the loss has been about all the things I would never know, because of her decision to terminate our letters.  I would (most likely) never know my father's name, or my family history.  I would never be certain of my ancestry, or where I got my curly hair and green eyes from.  And more pressing than anything else.....I knew I had siblings---a sister, and two brothers---and I would miss the chance to know them.  So although I tried to keep my holiday spirit alive and well, there was always a little piece of me that couldn't shake the sadness that came along with each passing birthday. Every year my husband would see it and say sympathetically "what can I do?" and then hug me tightly as I would shrug and cry.

This year, as I finish wrapping presents, making candy, and sending cards, it occurs to me that this is the first time in over 20 years that my birthday is NOT bringing sadness with it. Well......that's not entirely true.  I'm not particularly happy about turning 48.  But I am frankly amazed at what this last year has brought.  If you had told me last Christmas that within WEEKS, I would not only know my birthmother's name, but I would also know the names of my siblings AND end up getting to know them, I would never have believed it.  So many questions have finally been answered ---so many holes in my heart filled.  It's going to be a great birthday.

Christmas is magical again.