I recently turned 46. As far as birthdays go, it was really pretty crappy. I’m in the midst of a 13 week long pancreatic flare up, treatment isn’t going as planned, and the day before my birthday I got a conflicting recommendation from a doctor at a prestigious institution. My birthday dinner was a smoothie with no dessert. Of course, I did get to take some narcotics on my birthday, but they were less happy making and more making the pain tolerable.
Honestly, it shouldn’t have surprised me. The birthdays of my forties have pretty much been the pits. The last really good birthday I had was in my thirties.
I’m not sure which of my birthdays in my 40s counts as the worst. I’m guessing my 40th – when I spent my birthday in the hospital having a dead baby aborted, it was our third missed miscarriage. In the pre-op all of the nurses would look at my id band, look up and say, “Happy Birthday!” and then look at my chart and go, “Oh….I’m sorry.” Talk about awkward. Those poor nurses. I’m sure they went home that night sore from the cringing.
Of course, there’s my 41st, when I was 10 weeks pregnancy with Auden and wondering if he was going to stick. We were on pins and needles. At that time they didn’t have the early genetic blood tests, so we had to wait for a few more weeks for an amniocentesis. Of course, everything came out fine, which may have been the best belated birthday present ever. Sometimes I have to remind myself of that now that he’s four and a bald face liar. Remember, Robin, best birthday present ever. Breathe. Don’t hurt the child. Be thankful.
I think my 42nd was uneventful. Oh, that’s right, my 42nd I had to come back to work off of maternity leave early because my boss got fired and left me with his job supervising a team of 20+ folks. Joy.
My 43rd truly was uneventul. Work was stressful the weeks leading up to my birthday because we had a system launch. But amazingly, that went smoothly enough. I was agog that it went as well as it did.
Days before my 44th I ended up in the ER with gallstones. My surgery for the gallbladder removal was scheduled for the week after my birthday. Weeks before I had arranged an AirBNB in the city in our old neighborhood for the weekend of my birthday. My plan to live it up in the city was a bit squashed by the gallstones, but a bunch of my friends came out and brought me an angel food cake, meringue cookies, and non-alcoholic wine. Friends are amazing things, aren’t they?
My 45th I was still recovering from my hysterectomy and bladder sling. I couldn’t pee on my own without a catheter. I think we still went out for a short dinner. I probably had to leave early to get home. But I’m pretty sure I had a glass of wine or a beer. I didn’t have a relapse pancreatitis attack until almost two months later so there’s no way that glass of wine caused it. Celebratory.
I guess on the whole, my 46th was not that bad. My boys made me lovely cards. My husband gave me a beautiful set of opal earrings and matching necklace. My parents presented me with a super comfy cashmere sweater. And so many of my friends wished me well and sent love and thoughts towards a healthy future. What’s a little pain when you have that much love?
But, truly, I really am ready for 50. I know my 50s are going to shine.