A Better Anniversary

When I was expecting Boba Fett I lied to people. Everyone including complete strangers ask when your due date is and mine was September 11th. So instead of excited comments or information about who else had that birthday I got shocked looks and gasps. After a few weeks of that I started saying "September 10" and no one gave the date a second thought.

Based on these reactions I told my baby in utero he could NOT come on the 11th. Can you imagine having that reaction for your entire life? Well of course he did not come early and I even volunteered to be one day overdue if he would just wait. But no, I went into labor at midnight the night of the 10th. Boba Fett was born in my purple bedroom that morning, the second anniversary of 9-11.

Hardly anyone correlates Boba Fett's birthday to 9-11 now, sad murmurs about his date of birth are fairly infrequent. That handy numerical name helps people forget. They don't correlate 9-11 with the words September 11th as much anymore.
Now instead of remembering the weary, sleepless (Commander C was very ill that week), crying headaches, stunned faces and horror of September 2001, when I think of September 11th I think of the joy of my life, a little boy who came out looking a little mad and a lot like Elvis.

Happy Birthday, Boba Fett.
I love you,
Mom