The middle fire

Sean and I on Thanksgiving(ukkah)!

Brother Drew and I!



I’m not going to lie: I love my birthday. I think that’s pretty clear to anyone who knows me. I LOVE my birthday. It’s a chance for me to get glammed up and celebrate.

I think it’s also probably pretty clear to everyone who knows me that I love to celebrate. Anything. Especially my birthday. I won’t go so far as to say I “don’t like” people who don’t like birthdays; instead I’ll say I don’t understand it. I don’t quite get it. Sure, it’s that whole “I hate getting older” thing. But for me, getting older is a celebration. Reaching another year is something to be proud of. Birthdays are an accomplishment. They always have been for me. I have never, ever once gotten upset on my birthday and thought my life was going by too fast or I was getting too old or I’m not “young” anymore and all those other nonsense reasons people don’t like birthdays.

What exactly IS the problem with growing another year older? Another year closer to gray hair?

I really, really don’t get it. Myself at 29 (which is what I’m turning on Dec. 22) is still the same Marjie. Nothing will change. (I do have a gray hair by the way and I embrace it.) Just because I’m 29 doesn’t mean I’ll be any less fun or I’ll be a slower runner or I’ll be any less smart or any less passionate or any less stylish or any less loving or any less kind or any less attractive or any less motivated or any less strong.

Reaching a birthday is a milestone: it is another year gone by. Another year reached. Another year experienced. More memories. More life under my belt. And what is wrong with that?

It is a reason to CELEBRATE. I’ll celebrate when I turn 29 and 39 and 59 and 109. (maybe to the 109).

I personally love getting older. I love knowing I have made so much of myself and my life. I love knowing there’s more to come.

Not everyone gets to grow up. Not everyone gets to get older. We should count each birthday as a blessing. Each time we turn another year older we should be happy we made it. Not everyone is so lucky.

And besides, age is a number. It doesn’t tell me how good I am at something. I choose what to make of my life and myself, numbers aside. Numbers don’t have any say, in that just because you’re a certain age doesn’t mean you can or can’t do something.

For me, personally, because this is my blog, celebrating a birthday is celebrating another year of being cancer-free, another year I have made it post cancers #1 and #2. Another year I am healthy and strong. Another year since illness. Another year my body and mind have had the chance to recover or work on recovering.

Like a fine wine, I plan to get better with age.

That’s not to say getting older doesn’t come without its things. (A gray hair or a harder time recovering from a night on the town. Or digestive issues. Or pimples I’ve never had before that have just decided to show up)

But all in all, to me, birthdays should be met with joy.

And this year, like in years past, there is much to celebrate. (Though on my birthday two years ago that could be argued, as that was the day I was diagnosed with Li Fraumeni Syndrome.) 29 is not the best number in terms of number-activeness, like 22 is. Nice and round and even. Or 30. Or 88. 29 is just 29. It’s like the edge of something. The edge of my 20s. The very edge. The very last of them. But as I climb those numbers I am reminded I am living. Getting to each number is something to love and to appreciate. It tells me I’m still going strong.

On adoption: we have begun the mountains of preliminary paperwork. Each paperwork has its own paperwork. We just applied for, and got approved for our home-study, which is all the background checks, interviews, etc. We got fingerprinted, are collecting reference letters, filling out financial forms, getting letters from our places of employment, etc.

Thank G-d for Sean, because all of this is really overwhelming, just as I knew it would be, and really stressful, just as I knew it would be. But he’s calm and collected about all this. He sets goals and follows through. He remains focused and motivated. That’s one of the many reasons I love him and married him. He helps me stay on track with things are tough or scary. And with this adoption process, with all of the stress and the emotions and the challenges and the time-consuming-ness, it’s easy to feel lost. But he’s organized and on top of everything, and we are getting through it together. One day at a time. We’ll get our paperwork in, we’ll get our profile book made, we’ll get the room ready when we need to, with only the things we need to. It will all get done. It always does. Because of us, together, as a team.

There’s so much paperwork that’s certain, with so much uncertainty attached to it. But the worth is measureless. You can’t measure how much this is worth it. Or how scary it is or what the outcome will be or how we’ll do or handle the next thing. But I know, from past experiences, we just will. We always do. When something matters, we get it done. When something is important, something is important. And this is our middle fire right now. This is our top priority.

And it really is Sean that gets us through it. Especially this. I’m not good with paperwork. Filling out college applications almost put me into a panic attack because I felt like I wasn’t writing my name neat enough.

And our financials. Health records. Criminal records. Law things. All of these things are Sean’s strongpoint. Not mine. I can start researching car seats.

Yes, it’s hard. Yes, it’s weird. Yes, we have a lot to learn. Yes, we have a lot to do. Yes, this is super inconvenient and time consuming. But the end result is measureless.

On clinic: UGH I can’t believe my LFS clinic is on Monday. I’m actually getting very nervous thinking about how LONG I will be in those MRI machines. I’m actually getting nervous about them “seeing something.” But overall I’m excited to be getting scanned, excited to be in the study and excited to be starting these very important screenings.

Being in an NIH study while beginning the adoption process is a little stressful. There’s a lot going on right now. But I’m lucky we have so many good things to look forward to and so many reasons to celebrate.

It’s winter in Happy Valley. There’s snow on the ground. We’re three days into Hanukkah. Thanksgiving was awesome. More parties this weekend. It’s almost my birthday. We’re (eventually) getting a baby.

It still amazes me how fast time flies, and how vastly different this winter is than last winter. And also how much is still the same.

I was not aware how long this post was going to be. But in all fairness, I never am. Because when I start writing I never know what will come out. And that’s my favorite part.

In tying it all together with a neat little bow:

We touched on my upcoming birthday, where we are in the adoption paperwork and my screenings on Monday.

Birthday. Adoption. LFS screenings.

That’s what December looks like.

And as we get to January 2014, I will have celebrated my birthday and my clinic will be over. (That part of clinic, anyway.)

Ok, I am HOPING screenings will be behind me. Meaning, they see nothing worth mentioning and I go on my merry, healthy, clean-scan way. And entering 29 will have been celebrated. And the adoption process will continue, full-fledged, full-flamed.

The middle fire is burning bright. And it’s both scary and exciting.