Another Birthday without Otis
Today is my birthday. I will refrain from saying how old I’m turning, not because I am ashamed of aging but more because I’m getting to that point in my life where I don’t remember my age with enough confidence. Let’s just say I’m “I remember the glory days of Blockbuster” years old.
But regardless of how old I am turning, this will be another year without my son…without Otis. The emotional complexity of celebrating birthdays after a pregnancy loss, stillbirth, or the death of an infant is something that many may not fully grasp unless they’ve lived through it themselves. If this is a new concept for you, I hope you’ll keep reading to understand what this experience can feel like. If you’ve walked this path, you might recognize exactly what I mean, and I hope my words bring some sense of validation and solidarity.
Being Pregnant With Otis
The year Otis was born, I was almost 9 months pregnant on my 30th birthday. I had a small brunch with some friends and family, but I couldn’t enjoy it fully. I couldn’t have a mimosa, and well… even my maternity pants were getting too tight to be comfortable. I was also not completely present in the moment. I was living in my dreams of the not-so-distant future. Otis was due soon and I was beyond excited to meet my baby boy. To start my new life as a mother. I remember joking with Mark that this was just a placeholder birthday. I was entering the era where every new decade was the “big birthday.” But given the circumstances, I planned on the “real” celebration happening the following year. My first birthday with a baby in my arms. I knew that being a parent was going to change everything about my life, even how I celebrated my own birthdays. And I was ready for my new reality.
Being Pregnant With Linara (My First Birthday without Otis)
Well, little did I know that my new reality was actually going to be a cruel experiment in deja vu. On my 31st birthday, I was again nearly 9 months pregnant… with no baby in my arms but his ashes worn around my neck. I was one year older and one baby down. The last year had been nothing like I had planned. I was in a fog, still trying to process the implausible plot twists fate had handed me.
I was of course grateful for my new pregnancy. I couldn’t wait to meet Linara. But I was also terrified of what fate might have in store for her. When I would think about spending my 32nd birthday with her in my arms, it stirred up images of the birthday I was supposed to be having THAT year. Of Otis in my arms, not my jewelry. And the ability to have a damn mimosa!
It was much harder to imagine a birthday with Linara than it had been with Otis. With Otis in my belly, I had been hopeful, excited, and ready for what came next. With Linara, I was anxious, traumatized, and so scared of what might happen.
I chose not to do much for my birthday.
My First Birthday with Linara
Linara was born the same weekend COVID began sweeping through the United States. When Mark and I entered the hospital, everything was normal. But when we left, we were met with an apocalyptic trope. We stepped out into a world full of masked faces, closed businesses, and a deep uncertainty that would define the coming months.
On my 32nd birthday, I found myself in a world of isolation. I hadn’t seen another unmasked face (aside from Mark’s and Linara’s) in over 10 months. Having Linara in my arms on my birthday was a dream realized, but it felt bittersweet. The world felt different—full of fear, full of unknowns. Despite my joy at finally having a birthday with a baby to celebrate with (and a mimosa… or two), the universe seemed against me. Honestly, I felt sorry for myself.
My First “Real” Birthday with a Baby
By my next birthday, the world was mostly back to normal. And I had an almost two-year-old in my arms. Well, not really in my arms. More like all over the house. But it was finally the birthday it was supposed to be. No masks. All the mimosas I wanted. And, most importantly, a living baby (toddler).
For the first time, I got to experience a "real" birthday with my baby. It was what I had been waiting for since I was pregnant with Otis.
But something still bothered me: was I ALLOWED to enjoy it??
I don’t even remember what I did to celebrate that year. And that detail doesn’t even matter. I just remember feeling guilty for enjoying Linara’s company. I loved her. She was perfect. But she wasn’t Otis.
Navigating the Following Years
The years since have been a journey of reconciling these conflicting thoughts and emotions. It’s still something I actively navigate. And not just on my birthday. All big holidays, celebrations, or other events that mark the passage of time still bring a mixed bag of love for my current life and guilt over what never was. It’s been six years since I began imagining my life as a mom. And all 6 years have been entirely different than I had pictured. (Ok. I’m 36, that’s how old I am turning…).
I imagined the baby in my arms. I imagined the joy. I imagined the smiles.
I never imagined the terror. Or the sadness. Or the guilt.
This Year
Today, at Linara’s direct request, I will celebrate my birthday with a fancy girl’s tea party. Dresses, hats, pinky’s out. The works. Though it’s my birthday, Linara will of course be the guest of honor, as she is at all parties she attends.
But I can’t help but wonder what I’d be doing this year if Otis was still around. Maybe he would have liked a tea party too! But I’ll never know. And that thought will always be difficult for me.
I know, in my heart, that I don’t need to live in perpetual grief. And the truth is I don’t. I love Linara more than I can even begin to express with words. And I am so thrilled to spend my birthday having a tea party her. But as each year passes, I will always wonder how it would have been different had Otis lived it alongside me.
