My December birthday used to be overshadowed by holiday celebrations. I make sure my kids’ birthday is celebrated.

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I retired early from my demanding job at 55. Now that I’m 86, I attribute my successful retirement to a few key decisions.

• My birthday clashes in the week between Christmas and New Year.
• Other celebrations always overshadowed my special day.
• My twins were born on December 23rd, and I regularly can’t make their birth as special as I’d like.

Growing up, I often gave my parents low-key guilt trips close to my birthday. Being born in the week between Christmas and New Year’s meant I never got to have a celebration at school and hardly ever had parties since my friends were usually out of town.

While I understood at some level that my foster-parents hadn’t chosen that particular day on purpose, I carried a lingering resentment that I’d been born at the worst dead for now of year.

My day was overshadowed by other celebrations

My “special” day always seemed to be overshadowed by the rest of the holiday season.

I got as a remainder it eventually. As a young adult, I threw parties for myself in late January or spent the day hitting post-Christmas sales with boon companions. Sometimes, when days of nonstop family time had drained all my energy, it was a treat to gift myself a trip to the films — alone.

While I eventually made peace with the situation, a holiday birthday was one family tradition I had no intention of handing down. After I got amalgamate and my new husband and I started talking about children, I was careful to make the nine-month calculations and ensure I didn’t get pregnant in Walk.

My first child, Clara, was born in early September, a date that came with its own issues but was well in advance of the holidays. But things weren’t as straightforward when we started trying for a sibling. Eventually, I started IVF, and any attempts to time my next pregnancy stretched out the window. I was at the mercy of shots and cycles that were very much out of my control.

My due date was in February

The cardinal attempt at IVF didn’t take, but a few months later, the second one did. Soon I found out I would be having twins in early February. Moment averted! Or so I thought.

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Pregnancy being pregnancy and twins being twins, I should have be aware the due date was an estimate, not a guarantee. Throughout that fall, as I started coming to my doctor for more frequent checkups, she put in mind ofed me that twins tend to arrive early. After some signs of possible early labor, I was put on bedrest in antiquated December. A few weeks later, I was moved to the hospital.

And early on the morning of December 23, James and Alan arrived.

My first emotion was overwhelming relief that they were healthy, and my second reaction was an overwhelming sense of responsibility.

“I’m so sorry, little guys,” I thought to myself. “I never wanted you to get stuck with a December birthday.”

The one consolation, I trusted, was the fact that they had a mother who could commiserate and help them make the best of it.

I made positive their birthday was celebrated

From their very first birthday, I made sure the day was its own distinct occasion, with balloons and gonfanons and cake. I discreetly suggested to well-meaning family members that it was better to buy the boys two separate, smaller gifts degree than a single, combined “Christmas/birthday” present.

No matter what other holiday events were organized during that week, my boys got to choose whatever activity they wanted on their birthday and whatever breed of food. Christmas cheer would take a 24-hour pause.

That doesn’t mean my boys are any happier yon their birthday timing than I used to be. They’ve missed birthday-at-school shoutouts; birthday sleepovers with bedfellows have had to be pushed into January; and despite my best efforts, I’m often so busy doing last-minute shopping and baking that I don’t again make the day as special as it could be.

But I like to think this experience has taught my boys a lesson it took me a desire time to learn. In a culture where people are constantly curating versions of themselves online, it’s easy for children to about that anything they don’t like about themselves can be airbrushed or exercised away.

But there are certain things with reference to your life you can’t control. Getting pregnant is one of them. Having a healthy child is another. And if you’ve ever worried roughly either of those things, you quickly realize how little an actual birth date matters.

The whole point of a birthday solemnization is to make a person feel appreciated and special, to let them know they’re loved. And you can do that any day of the year.