My birthson, Charlie, will be five years in just a few days. At this time of year, I always find myself reflecting on the day he was born and the other birthdays we have celebrated together. His first birthday was probably the hardest and was very emotional.

For some reason, the day before Charlie’s birthday is really hard for me as well. I guess it has something to do with the fact that it is one of the last memories of me being his first mom. Even though I did not sign relinquishment papers until he was three days old, once he made his entrance into the world, I felt like he belonged to his adoptive parents.

His adoptive Mom, Angee, did such a great job at making me feel included in his first birthday plans. About two weeks before his birthday, we met and went shopping for the party supplies for his party. She let me help choose them. It was very special. We chose a first birthday set that was bright and colorful and had different sports balls on it.

His first birthday actually fell on a Friday and his party was scheduled for Saturday. Angee had asked me if I thought I would want to see him on his actual birthday or would I just want to come to the party. I thought coming to the party would be ok, but on his actual birthday I was having a hard time and called her and she suggested we all get together and go eat at the restauraunt we met at. That seemed fitting so we did.

The next day was his party. He actually had two parties – one in the early afternoon and one in the evening. I went to the evening party where Scott and Angee grilled hot dogs and hamburgers and we all just hung out and had a good time.

I gave Charlie his birthday gifts and helped him open them. I had asked Angee if I could bring a little cake for Charlie to put his fingers in and get all messy and she had said yes so we put a candle on it and watched him dig in and get all messy. Then we all had some of the big cake.

On the way home that night, I cried. I was happy that I had gotten to spend Charlie’s birthday with him, give him his gifts, and watch him tear into his cake, but it was bittersweet, knowing I wasn’t the one that would be tucking him in that night, singing to him, etc.