It Can Only Get Better From Here

Well, I hit the big 30 and I was determined to make the best of it despite the feared emotions of discouragement and depression that could easily come in on such an occassion as I celebrated my birthday with my husband states away and found myself still waiting for life to start as I hang out living in my parents basement. Obviously it would have been nice if time had been kinder to me and I felt a little bit more accomplished and if I felt that I had anything to show for the last three decades of my life. But, life is what it is, and I wanted to enjoy the day despite the temptation not to.

Little need I fear - I had no room for discouragment or depression as my birthday became a day of survival. It began with my boys NOT getting up at 6:00 AM. You would think that would be nice - it allowed me the chance to sleep in. Until 6:20 rolled around and the phone rang. My sweet husband, who knows that I am up EVERY day at 6:00 decided to call and wish me a Happy Birthday. The timing wasn't perfect, but really, in retrospect I can't think of a better way to have started the day that just continued to go downhill from there. It really is one of the highlights.

I quickly realized that I had the flu. A horrible, miserable, gut wrenching flu that my sister had been suffering with the day before and that had my Dad spend a night in the hospital two evenings before. Coming 3rd has its perks, though, and at least I knew to not eat anything.

The day went on, me exhausted from days on end with no husband and two kids. Too tired to care or notice that it was my birthday and too sick for it to really matter. When Ammon came home from school he was adorable. Katy had picked him up and prompted him, so that when he came home he ran inside and said, "Happy Birthday Mommy!"

How sweet was that! My heart just melted and it was the first moment of real joy I felt. But it quickly turned to dispair as he looked and said, "Is it really your birthday Mom?"

"Why, yes, it is Ammon."

"Where is it Mom?"

"Oh, you mean the birthday cake? I'm sorry Ammon, I didn't even think to make one."

At which point he burst into tears!

He went downstairs to play and soon after the doorbell rang. It was a delivery that Andy had arranged before he left. It was a beautiful basket of chocolates, a teddy bear, and a cake box with a cake made of flowers. No one was home except for me and my boys and when I brought the gift inside I just burst into tears. Especially when I saw the cake. I suspected that it wasn't edible, but it almost seemed like a little miracle that there was a birthday cake.

I wiped my tears and went downstairs to show Ammon. I had Peter in one arm and the basket in the other. I gave Ammon the camera (after showing him) and knelt down so that he could take a picture. As I knelt down, my back went out. It had been going for weeks, and every once in a while I would move in such a way that a wince or a whimper would escape my lips. But this movement, well, it merrited an all out scream!

My plans for the evening were to have dinner with my family - which I did - kind of. We all ordered food and I watched as they ate. In the end I think I may have eaten an entire roll, a small bite of steak and a Peter sized bite of sweet potatoe. And I felt like I had overdone it. But I sat there with my back killing me, and wanting to puke thinking, "I am glad I am here - this is better than feeling this way alone at home."

I almost cancelled my plans to attend a play several times throughout the day. But in the end, I decided to try it, and Amanda came to pick me up at the restaraunt. Katy stuck around to make sure I could get into the car. She finally had to say, "Just do it really fast and know it's going to hurt for a second." (She is an expert at back pain as she has suffered from it a lot.) She had to lift my leg into the car for me, but I got in and away we went.

The play was wonderful. The pain during it was bareable. Getting in the car to come home was more difficult than getting in to leave. But Amanda helped and we got home. THANKFULLY I did NOT fall when I slipped on the ice in the driveway. I got home just in time for Andy to send me a text message and say that he had to get to bed and could not talk.

I had talked to him during intermission and the first thing he said was, "This has been the worst day ever."

"Oh really?" I asked, "Is it your 30th birthday and your husband is gone and you have the flu and your back went out and you are miserably sick and in constant pain."

Well, his bad day was of a different sort, but I don't think either of us will ever look back at December 10, 2007 with much fondness at all - except to say, "Thank goodness it isn't as bad as that!"