Not the birthday I expected

Today is my birthday. Not a momentous one this year -- good ol' #38. Definitely in my late thirties (I'm now in my mid-late-thirties, as my sister would say) but not quite to the next major milestone.

This was not the birthday I expected. I thought that this birthday would come and go almost unnoticed, given that we'd be so wrapped up in the joy of parenthood. That being with Stephen would be such an incredible gift that he would eclipse any gift or celebration. And I didn't get that birthday.

Then, I figured that this birthday would suck. Flat out, miserable horridness. Another birthday and I'm STILL not a parent? And no Stephen? The only present I want is a baby and no one can give me that. Dammit.

But that wasn't the birthday I had either.

Today was just a really happy day. First of all, it was an unbelievable 85-degrees and just gorgeously sunny outside. Then, I had a baby dream and a friend had a baby dream about Bill and I. I did some great work on our annual report with our graphic designer, who is super fun. I had a delicious lunch outside. I was celebrated by my dear, amazing colleagues. I got about 100 facebook posts from friends near and far. I talked to my family. I had a delicious dinner with Bill.

It wasn't the Stephen-filled joy fest, but it wasn't despair. It was a day of gratefulness and happiness and sunshine and love. It made me optimistic that things are shifting. That life is going forward. That today I have a chance to start this year over again. So I'll do so with a renewed sense of energy for the year ahead. Bring on the joy, 38!