We had plans.
Plans change, right?
Due to a myriad of circumstances, Gabe's first birthday came and went without much hoopla. In fact, it was just Craig, Madeline and me here to witness Gabe tear his cake apart.
I was crushed. I cried. Why did it appear no one wanted to celebrate him? His miraculous birth?
It hurt me.
With Madeline, my parents, sister, brother-in-law and nephew flew here to celebrate. Most of the Georgia family also attended. Everyone watched as Madeline wore a cute birthday hat and crumbled her birthday cake. The day was about her and celebrating her.
With Gabe, no one came. I'm not going to get into the details, and there were justifiable reasons.
But it still hurt.
The whole situation got me thinking. The reality is that first birthdays are typically about the parents more than the child. No offense, but I don't want a slew of friends attending my kids' first (or second) birthdays. (And most friends probably don't truly want to be there either...not that they aren't happy to celebrate, but it is a one year old's party...). I want family there. Was I allowing my hurt feelings to make Gabe's first birthday about me and not him? I heard, from multiple well-meaning, people that "Gabe won't remember the party anyway." Yes, I'm aware of that, thankyouverymuch. Yet another thing that points to a small family celebration about me and not him. He won't remember and it doesn't make me a bad mother for him not having a party with 25 people and babies crawling around everywhere.
The reality is that Gabe is celebrated. Maybe I didn't get to shout it out or get a family picture with Gabe in the middle, but he is celebrated. Mostly by the One who truly matters.
God doesn't need a pomp and circumstance celebration with a smash cake and hors d'oeuvres. Maybe this whole situation was to teach me that lesson.
Gabe IS loved. Loved by family.
But God loves him more than I possibly could. And He celebrates him more than I possibly could.
I guess it was a huge celebration after all.
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