My Daughter's Time Twin

Winter sucks. 

   So this is the month of my daughter's birthday, which automatically makes this month the best month ever. My daughter is the greatest part of my life, and even though February comes in the Worst Season Ever-winter sucks-- this is still the best month. A gift given to take some of the sting out of the cold dreary yuckyness that is winter.
   But when I was pregnant with her, the days of this month dragged on in stress and anxiety. I have told you the reasons why I don't want more kids, and the truth is that the last weeks of pregnancy dragged for me. This is where my bestie comes in, again; something she will hopefully never stop doing.  My due date was estimated to be the 13th of February; my best friend was born on 23rd. All throughout my pregnancy, my bestie was demanding that I wait until the 23rd to have my baby.
   "You're gonna have her on my birthday," she would tell me in tones that booked no argument. I would laugh, because she was funny, and a baby comes when a baby comes, right? You can't order the day, unless you are doing induced labor or something of that nature, which I was not. The only thing that really made me bite my nails was the fact that I really didn't want my daughter born on February 14th. No Valentine's baby for me, thank you. I don't really hate Valentine's Day, I guess, but that holiday (can Valentine's Day really be called that?) seems like a total retail holiday. I have never felt there was true meaning to this day, and I didn't want my daughter sharing a day with a retail holiday.
   So on the 14th, when I was waiting anxiously for labor to start, I was really feeling stress and praying that nothing happened. By the 15th, we were good and I was ready to go at any time. Then the 16th came, and the 17th; the 18th and the 19th. On the 20th the midwife group that  I went to ordered a stress test to see if the baby was in any stress, and this included another ultrasound, which was exciting to me, because I thought maybe this was a last chance to finally be able to see what gender she was. My daughter had kept her legs tightly crossed every time we had a look at her, and all my baby stuff was either/or colors, which meant a lot of green and yellow. She did not let us see her gender on this day either, so I continued my fervent prayer for a girl, because I know you are supposed to be happy with whatever flavor you get, but I really wanted a girl.
   The stress test showed that the baby was not in stress, so I was sent home. I was miserable, but the baby seemed to be fine. The 22nd rolled around, and I woke to contractions. I had contractions all that day, but didn't go into the hospital because my midwife believed that I was in false labor. I was, at that time, 9 days late, so why she thought this boggles the mind. At midnight, I had called so many times, because I was doing incredibly gross and disgusting things, like losing my mucus plug (ew, ew, ew!!!) and was in a general state of freak-out, because we were living in the country, which meant that with a good traffic flow, the drive to the hospital took 30 minutes and I did not want to have my baby in a car.
    My daughter was born at noon on the 23rd. So my bestie, she totally has the power to alter your due date. My daughter was a whole 10 days late and she shares a birthday with my best friend, making them 'time twins': the astrological name for two unrelated people born on the same day. This is the ultimate way to make sure that your best friend does not forget your birthday; something that  I excel at because I am really terrible with dates. Not this date though, I worked hard for this date.