February 1, 2010: Thoughts on THIS Day.

I’m not sure February 1st has the same meaning to me anymore. I once viewed it as “my special day”, the day everything should revolve around me, the day I came into this world; my birthday. As a kid, I couldn’t wait to be one year older and used to look forward to February 1, more so than any other day of the year. (I mean, who didn’t as a kid!) I loved that my special day happened during the school year and that I could bring treats to my class. I loved having my classmates sing me “Happy Birthday.” I loved getting birthday cards and presents in the mail. I love that it was one day that I knew my little sister would not be getting a present, “because I got one.”

As I got older, the feelings never went away; they just grew up with me. Instead of getting excited over classroom events, I began to treat February 1 as my day to be completely self indulgent: mani/pedi, hair cut and color, new outfit, etc. It was a day that gave reason for people to call me out of the blue. It was my turn to have my sorority sisters sing to me (well, I guess I did share it with Carrie) and go out to dinner. It was a day that meant I was one year closer to the magical age of 21. When John and I started dating, it was just another that gave him a reason to spoil me. I guess at some point I stopped getting excited about turning a year older, by hey who doesn’t. ( John would insert a huge paragraph about how I have a mid life crisis every year, and have since I turned 21…) Overall, it was a day all about me.

That all changed on February 1, 2009. I replay the hours and minutes of that day constantly. Instead of celebrating my birthday, I was in a state of pure shock, panic and horror as the doctors and nurses worked to prevent Cohen and I sharing a birthday. What started off as a day all about me, it quickly transformed into a day all about him. I don’t mean that in a negative way, it is literally just the events of the day. I know that sounds pretty selfish, especially considering the state both he & I were in, but as all the commotion and chaos was happening deep down I knew that my special day had been changed forever.

While February 1 is still my birthday, my feelings for the date have completely changed. I spent the better part of 2009 dreading February 1, 2010. Instead of dreading the day because I would be thatmucholder, I was dreading the day for the fear of how I would feel after what happened last year. I couldn’t fathom what it would feel like to look back on the second scariest day of my life (the first being 2.10.09). I tried to think of ways to avoid the date, and even considered sleeping the entire day just so I didn’t have to face it.

Ultimately, my powers of keeping February 1 away have failed, and here it is upon me. So now that it is here, are my worries substantiated? Yes, even more so than I had originally anticipated. I spent the day numb and really not wanting to have anyone remember what day it was. I got a lot of “wow, do you remember what happened last year?!” (Gee, no, I seem to have forgotten. Seriously?!) Every time I looked at the clock I thought “what was happening last year at this time…oh, it was ___.” I walked to each class thinking about how I wasn’t in school after this day last year, and it caused me to be in my current classes without my classmates. I could barely look at Cohen without having a huge wave of guilt come over me.

At this point, I see February 1 as the day I failed Cohen. (Now, don’t read too deep into this, I don’t need therapy. It is simply my opinion and feelings. It doesn’t change my relationship with him or how much I love him.) Filled with ‘what ifs’ and ‘I should have done this’, I spent the better part of the day trying to make sense of it all. Good news, between the bouts of guilt and sadness over my inability to keep him from being so premature, I was able to reflect on how grateful I am things turned out so well for him. With full knowledge that things could have been much, much, worse, I decided to take the view that Cohen didn’t ruin my birthday (and subsequent birthdays) but rather, I see him as being the catalyst to make me realize that even my birthday shouldn’t be all about me. (See, no therapy needed)

With that, I have come to the conclusion that this year is probably the year I will feel the worst about the this date. Last year was so overwhelming and crazy, I barely had time to think. And in 10 years, while I will still remember the events of 2.01.09, I doubt the emotions will be so raw. (or at least I hope!) So, as I approach the end of the day I am proud of the fact I didn’t let my fear of the day paralyze me (completely) and I am proud that I was able to make it through the day without breaking down. While my feelings towards February 1 will never again be what they once were, maybe that is a good thing?