It’s the most wonderful time of the year—Halloween. Also, this day happens to be my birthday. It’s every goth kid’s dream, to be born on a Halloween or a Friday the 13th or maybe one of the other solstice or equinox days or festivities. And I am the one lucky enough to be born that day.

This year, we celebrate it for many reasons. Ever since the pandemic, it’s the first time for such a long time where a huge gathering is allowed. All year round since going to new normal, everyone had all the reasons to be reunited with their loved ones they haven’t seen in a while—birthdays, holidays, a lot of times people just threw parties for no reasons too. And today is no exception. I invited every close friend and family that I still have left.

It’s also my first birthday to celebrate as a married woman. My beloved husband, Paul, proposed to me on my birthday exactly a year ago. After which we finally said our vows to each other on his birthday—Valentines. Yep, I’m not the only one who is a holiday baby. And that day being the most romantic date of the year, on top of our wedding, we immediately consummated our marriage that night. He had a vasectomy in the beginning of our relationships, which means he had been shooting blanks in all our premarital sex. But not that honeymoon night. As planned by both of us, he had his vasectomy reversed. This was my wedding day-slash-birthday-slash-Valentines gift, to have our baby conceived that night.

Which brings us back to the present: me being pregnant, having a final hurrah with my family and friends before I give birth to our baby in around two weeks. I wasn’t sure I wanted to push through with this birthday-slash-Halloween party plan knowing I would be very much close to my term, but we did. Paul had been such a sweetheart, planning all of this. It is exactly like how I want it, there is nothing I can ask for more. All day long, it’s a surprise after another with him. Yet he gives me this look like he has something more up his sleeve.

“Can I talk to you alone for a sec?” he asks. I follow him upstairs to our bedroom, where there are no people. As we sit down by the bed, he begins asking in a solemn voice, “You remember our honeymoon night…?”

I gestured to my very round belly, the result of that night. “Yes??” hahaha

“Well, here’s another surprise for your birthday…” he trails off. “I know you wanted that as a present for me, to have our baby conceived on my birthday… our wedding day… Valentines.”

I giddily nod, not knowing what else to say, urging him to continue.

“To let you know the truth now, I had my vasectomy reversed earlier than when I told you. Which means…”

“Which means?”

“Which means… we conceived that baby even earlier.”

Which means, unless my term is longer than 40 weeks, I might go into labor anytime NOW, not two weeks from now like what I initially thought.

As if on cue--I’m not sure if it’s just from feeling surprised from this revelation, but--I’m starting to feel my water break.

“Ow!”, I howl in pain.

“Are you alright?” Paul asks worryingly.

“Oh my god, Paul, I think I’m about to give birth!”