[ WP ] Everyone dies on their birthday , but no one knows at which age it will occur .

George and Julie embraced- the next twenty four hours would be the deciding factor in how their child lived and died. Months of planning, endless visits to the OB/GYN, a rainbow of supplements consumed all of their energy spent to ensure the proper birthday for their daughter. 
 
 Julie had been one of the lucky ones- blessed with the timely birth that a few lucky percentage obtained. Of course, everyone ’ s birthday was close together, but hers had hit the mark dead center. Now it was her and George ’ s turn to see whether or not their persistence, research, and dedication would pay off. 
 
 The trip to the hospital was uneventful. Julie flipped through Facebook posts on her phone as George drove the minivan. As usual, University Medical Center was overwhelmed with the pregnant; doctors, nurses, nervous husbands and lovers scrambling to find the right room or person to talk to. 
 
 Leaving the van behind on the “ blue-green-pink ” level of the garage ( clearly numbers were just too simple a designation system for the designer ), the couple made their way through the waiting room and hallway to their suite. All eyes were on the clock. 
 
 Unfortunately for Julie, her labor was not an easy process. George stuck by her throughout the day, unable to do more than cheer her on and silently pray the baby wouldn ’ t be late. As it neared midnight again, the doctors amped up their treatment, doing all they could to speed up the delivery. The frustration, fear, resignation- it all came across on Julie ’ s face as the world turned unhindered. 
 
 “ I ’ m so sorry, ” was all the nurse said, “ but March first is hardly a death sentence. ” 
 
 With a smile, she gave Julie a quick pat on the shoulder and walked out. Across the hospital and the world, the dice had landed and the course of lives was now locked into place. Happy leap year, indeed.
