It’s hard to believe that six years have passed since I welcomed my first child. As my son’s birthday approached, I found myself reaching for my phone to share the usual sentiment: “I can’t believe he’s turning six tomorrow. It feels like just yesterday we brought him home. Wow, time flies.”
But as I sat there, I struggled to find the right words. I genuinely cannot wrap my head around the fact that my child is turning six. I can recall the moment we brought him home from the hospital as if it were just yesterday. It’s all gone by so quickly. I mean, I’ve been a mother for six years now—am I doing this right?
Every July, I find myself in turmoil. It’s a mix of joy, anxiety, and even a hint of sadness. Meanwhile, my second child’s birthday in November doesn’t evoke the same intensity of emotions.
Why is that? It’s not that I love my youngest any less; in fact, he’s the “easy one.” So why do I feel so different about their birthdays? For years, I pushed these thoughts aside, attributing my anxiety to the usual life stresses. But here I am again, grappling with the same feelings. Why does my firstborn’s birthday feel more significant?
The truth is, it does.
I’ll never forget the moment my doctor revealed my due date: “Looks like baby day is set for July 27!” To the doctor, it was just an appointment. For me, it symbolized the day I would become a mother to what I believed would be a daughter—I had always envisioned myself with girls (it’s amusing to look back on). I was thrilled yet completely naive. I was only 23, and we had just married nine days before learning I was pregnant. Talk about a whirlwind!
With that revelation, there was no time to adjust to new married life or contemplate my career aspirations. My deadline was July 27—I had to be a responsible adult by then. No time for arguments or dreams; it was all about stepping up.
On July 20, at 4:02 p.m., after eight relatively easy hours of labor and twenty minutes of pushing, I gave birth to an 8lb 4oz baby boy. I was overjoyed yet instantly overwhelmed by the enormous responsibility that came with being a parent. I remember thinking, “Wait, they’re just letting me take this baby home? No IQ test? No background check? Is this for real?”
During that first year, I discovered I was completely unprepared for motherhood; I didn’t even know who I was anymore. When you have a due date, leisurely learning is off the table. Suddenly, I had to figure everything out—no more postponing my growth.
As I approached his first birthday, I was exhausted and pregnant again. I had matured but still felt like I had missed my “due date” for getting my life together. That feeling lingered for years until I finally realized that progress is part of the journey.
Every year when July 20 rolls around, I take time to reflect. It’s like conducting an annual review for the most essential job I will ever hold.
July 20 marks the day my responsibilities expanded beyond bills and car notes.
It is the day I began living for someone else.
It is the day I was compelled to discover my purpose.
Amid the chaos of daily life, I learned that I was meant to be here for a reason, and it became my mission to figure that out for my children.
After my son’s birth, looking into those big brown eyes made it impossible for me to justify spending 40 hours a week away from him doing meaningless work. I knew I had to make my life count.
So, my oldest child’s birthday holds a special place in my heart. It’s the anniversary of the journey I embarked on six years ago. When I held that precious baby, I promised to guide him, but first, I had to find myself. After years of soul-searching, I can confidently say I’m no longer lost, even if I still wander.
My son’s birthday isn’t just a celebration of his life; it’s a reminder of the day I received the greatest gift—the opportunity to be a mother, a nurturer, a leader. I gave him life, and in return, he gave mine meaning.
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In summary, while both my children are equally loved, my oldest’s birthday will always hold deeper meaning for me, marking the beginning of a transformative journey into motherhood.
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