Turning Thirty

If there was one day in year that I look forward to, except for Christmas, Valentine's Day, our Wedding Anniversary, our boyfriend-girlfriend anniversary, my hubby's birthday, is my birthday. Ok... So I celebrate pretty much everything I could have an excuse of. But I still hold my birthday as my most important day because that's me all alone (like every other November 10 celebrants around the globe!)

As I turn thirty tomorrow, I am not as excited as I used to be for the last twenty-nine years. Maybe my husband's view of birthdays (which is as important as any day in the year) has rubbed off on me. Or maybe the fact that my age starts with a new digit is finally getting under my skin.

I never used to be bothered by age as a number. Probably because I knew I was still young. But now that I'm thirty, a baby-less wife and career-woman, I am subdued to thinking that a birthday is just any day in the year.

I went to Sunday mass this morning and ended up crying after receiving communion. I thank God for my 29 years and 364 days, my husband, my family, his family, and our friends. I thank God for every blessing he bestowed upon me and the challenges that He thought fit that I should experience. I ask for a birthday gift, but only if He would willingly give me.

I think a baby is the best birthday gift I could ever have. I keep thinking maybe we are just not ready yet, which is why we haven't been blessed with one.

My husband asked me what I wanted to have for my big three-oh. It's a coin flip between a 1TB hard disk our computer desperately needs, or shower heater I've badly wanted since we moved in the condo.

Maybe that's why I haven't decided yet. I'm still waiting for the stork to drop off someone at our door.