Who's Birthday is it?

I know I’m not the first to say this, but I’m thrown off on why the birthday is celebrated for the born and not those that gave birth. 28 years ago my mother, 21 and very newly married, mistook labor for the after effects of barbeque and a bad sunburn. That day, well I don’t so much remember it. My mother, on the other hand, will probably never forget it. She remembers the exact time, recalls how many weeks early I was, the song on the radio on the way to the hospital. It perplexes me that in return she gets a randomly appointed day in May while I get to claim this day that is thick with her memories. She doesn’t read the blog, but I’ll put it out there anyway: thanks Mom, thanks for giving me my birthday.