How the birthday idea came to be:

It was a cold February evening in 1991 when I walked through the hospital doors with empty arms. Still a mother, yet without child, I simply went home. Such grief caused those that loved me to look the other way, words were not muttered, only whispers behind closed doors. Several weeks later I stood in a courtroom and gave up the only thing I had left to give; my motherhood. Through the years I have watched the calender roll by, knowing what February would bring. It comes in like a slow melody and hits hard like a choir of ghosts. It is a day that I remember, when new life was handed into my arms from the breath of my own body. The only day I was his mother.

The house is still and quiet. I feel anxious, as if my spirit knows a birthday party is going on somehwere, and yet my body realizes I am not invited. I feel overwhelmed with the need to celebrate, or engage in some activity that honors the life I gave. I ache for someone to remember that on this day, so many years ago, I was holding an infant child; my first-born. That he is real. That he exists. Silence. I pace my house. I watch the phone and hope that it will ring. Someone must remember. Yet no one does.

It is a day that cannot be avoided. My Birth Day. When, as a child, I became a mother, and as a Birthmother; I then became a woman who to this day has not forgotten. You need not throw a party or struggle with what to say. I only ask that if you love me ... you too will remember that day.

Skye Hardwick, the owner of Lifemothers, had asked me several days before my Birth Day if I had any ideas on content that she might add to her website. At the time I didn't have any ideas. But when February 3rd came and no one in my life remembered to call, send flowers, or even acknowledge that this is the hardest day of the year for me ... I immediatly knew what Skye could add. For I never wanted another birthmother to go through another Birth Day; alone.