Happy Birthday to Me

Anyone who knows me well knows that my birthday isn't a day. It's a week. It's a national holiday.

I don't know where this comes from. Possibly the fact that my birthday falls 2 weeks shy of Christmas and, therefore, I've sought out ways to differentiate it from the "other" December holiday. Possibly it's simple self indulgence brought on by the fact that every day is about every one EXCEPT me, and I use this occasion to focus on myself and force everyone else to do the same (usually against their will).

Anyway, today is the day. And for the first time in (gulp) 36 years I could care less that it's my birthday.

"Why?" you might ask.

(Whether or not you asked, I'll tell you. Because it's my birthday. And I'll do what I want.)

Because yesterday, December 12, I got the best birthday present anyone could ask for or receive.

For all of you who said a prayer for my sweet Heather, you were heard! After one month in the hospital, Heather delivered a beautiful (and I mean BEAUTIFUL) baby girl yesterday.

After one month of not complaining even once. After ONE MONTH of dealing with shots and IVs and conflicting information and hospital food (which, admittedly, looked quite good even to me), and no fresh air, and about 7 (bad) channels on the TV, and no Starbucks, and a sugar-free diet for, like, 5 days, and infrequent showers, and only one visit from her precious dog Churchill, and her amazing husband sleeping on a rock of a bed.

And did I mention? She never complained. Not once. Their favorite nurse, Brittney, even told Heather: "I've had a lot of patients. And you are the ONLY one who NEVER complained. Not once."

There is nothing that Heather and Michael would not have done and would not do for this baby.

At 28 weeks, their sweet daughter was expected to weigh a little under 2 1/2 pounds. But, as only she could, she surprised us all weighing in at 3 lbs. 4 oz.

This little girl AND her mother defied all the odds presented to them. As statistics were given (I hate statistics), I had to continually remind myself that while xx% of cases turn out in an unfortunate way, SOMEONE has to make up the remaining xx%, no matter how small a number that might be.

And so they did.

Truly, the time from when I heard Heather was going into surgery to the time we knew she was out and that both Heather and the baby had come through with flying colors was the longest 1 1/2 hours of my entire life.

I don't have an emotional bone in my body, but when Michael walked into that waiting room in his navy blue scrubs (which he was sort of swimming in) and announced, "You guys, she's doing great!" even the most unemotional person on earth couldn't keep it together.

Welcome to the world Giovanna Rosemary! I cannot wait to get to know you. We are going to have crazy cool co-birthday parties for the rest of our lives (and I'll even let them be all about you because you're just that great).

I could not be more proud to know Heather and Michael and I could not be more blessed to have them in my life. To watch them go through every minute of this experience together was awe-inspiring. I learned a lot. I have never known a couple so supportive of one another or in love with each other. And that love is what created Giovanna and made her the fighter she is.

I slept better last night than I have in a long time. All is right with the world.

Happy Birthday to Me.