Birthday Reflections

Today marks the first day of the last year of my 30s.

Sometimes on my birthday I look back at all the years stacking up behind me, reflecting on the good and bad. For kicks, sometimes I’ll remember birthdays past, where I was, what I was doing.

Once, when I turned 32, I thought about all I wanted to accomplish – like have a family. By that day, I’d not yet met a man I wanted to have a family with. I don’t recommend spending your birthday that way, by the way. Far too depressing.

Today, however, I’ve been looking back through the last 10 years.

I was in a different place mentally, physically and spiritually 10 years ago. It was the beginning of what I like to refer to as the dark period. I was in the middle of a divorce, practically homeless, hanging between jobs and not a little out of control. When you’re 29, you’ve got some time under your belt. By all rights and purposes, I was supposed to have a career, home, family, happiness, etc. Instead, I had a flailing helicopter flying career due to a slump in the industry, and not much else.

By 32, when I chose to send myself into a state of depression over my perceived lack of progress on my life goals, I at least had a steady, respectable job and a house I’d bought all my myself. Maybe it was only 528 square feet and English was the fourth language in the neighborhood, but it was mine. My heart was still broken, but I was pulling out of the dark period and at least I had a job (even though I despised it) and a home. I was getting there. But I so wanted to be home in Seattle, married and having a family.

I celebrated my 33rd birthday back home in my beloved Seattle. I’d returned home only three days earlier for a great new job I still have and love. That was a great day.

By 34 I had been in my Seattle home 11 months (thanks to the sale of the little place in Socal) and had been seeing a great guy for about six months.

I was a Mrs. by my 35^th birthday and we decided we’d best not wait much longer to try for that family.

I was two days past my due date on my 36^th birthday. I was huge, uncomfortable and so excited to meet my little girl I didn’t care if she came on my special day. She, in fact, waited three more days.

I spent my 37^th birthday pregnant again and in the throws of morning sickness. I was about 5 weeks pregnant and planning my baby girl’s first birthday party.

I don’t remember 38, last year. That’s pretty sad, really.

Today, 39, I’m feeling happy and fortunate. I have that home, job, husband and family I wanted so desperately eight years ago. I’ve been feeling rather low lately, worrying about work, daily chores, and other stupid things all the time until I’m feeling beaten down. When I sit back and see how far I’ve come and how all my biggest dreams have come true, I’m suddenly elated. Everything else seems petty. Today my perspective has changed.

Happy birthday indeed.

Tagged as: birthdays, reflections