Happy Birthday to Us

What are you going to name the baby if it’s a boy?

Shelby, I guess.

That’s as it should be. Life goes on.

When I got my hair cut before chemo, I had a very specific flashback to a similar scene in Steel Magnolias when Julia Roberts cuts off her locks to prepare for a kidney transplant. And, yea, I’m comparing my locks to Julia Roberts’ even though that’s insane. Just try and stop me.

I watched the movie today, which Michael found a bit masochistic in my emotional state. But I watched it for all the scenes that equal the quote above. Life goes on. Easter comes every year. And “I’m a chain!” Which doesn’t have anything to do with this post. It’s just another line I love.

You may remember I was pregnant with Jake when I was diagnosed with cancer the first time. And Sunday night we had a party to celebrate the fact that life couldn’t be stopped that time, and he arrived healthy and sound.

Recovering from chemo has been harder than I thought it would be, and I’m – well, sorta puny. A couple days before the party, Jake asked, “Will you be at my birthday party?” And then he said, “And will you be happy there?” I wasn’t feeling very good for it, I’m afraid. But I sat up, basking in the glory that was my sister-in-law’s party-making skills, and I put on earrings and lip gloss – hoping, figuring, that looked more like my version of happy, to Jake. You probably can’t see the happy in the picture. But I think Jake did. And then he summed it all up.

He’s so used to holiday greetings after Christmas that he couldn’t quite figure out what to say when someone wished him well on the Big Oh Five. So this is what we got:

Happy Birthday, Jake, I said.

Happy Birthday to you too, Mama.

Isn’t that the truth?