This one’s personal. This one makes me cry every time I sing it. This is the song about my son’s birth – and how he decided to do things his own way from day one.
The Story Behind “March Eighteenth”
When my doctor told me my due date was March 17th, I literally JUMPED. Like, out-loud, over-the-moon excited.
“I’m Irish!” I exclaimed to him, beaming.
He grinned and said, “Great.”
This was in July. I’m not entirely sure he understood the significance of St. Patrick’s Day at that moment, but I was already planning this baby’s 21st birthday party in my head. Imagine! Born on St. Patrick’s Day! Irish blood running through our veins! His 21st birthday would be the ULTIMATE celebration!
I had big plans. BIG plans.
And then my son decided to teach me the first of many lessons about parenthood: children have their own timeline, and they don’t care about your Pinterest-perfect vision.
The Day That Didn’t Go According to Plan
March 17th, St. Patrick’s Day. I woke up determined. I was going to meet my baby TODAY. I walked around doing squats in every room of the house. Squats in the bedroom. Squats in the kitchen. Squats in the bathroom. I went to the grocery store and did squats in the aisles. (The looks I got? Priceless.)
I had this purple-pink water bottle that I carried everywhere, staying hydrated, staying ready. I was executing THE PLAN.
Finally, late on March 17th, I started feeling contractions. YES! We grabbed our things and headed to the hospital. This was it! St. Patrick’s Day baby!
Here’s what I remember most clearly: NOT A SINGLE NURSE was wearing green. Not one! Where was the spirit? Where was the festive energy? I was there, in labor, and nobody was celebrating the holiday!
But I was focused. I squatted through those hospital hallways, determined to make this happen before midnight.
At 11:30 PM, I finally surrendered. “Give me that epidural. Let’s see where this goes.”
I fell asleep, dreaming of what he’d look like, who he’d be.
And then the morning light broke through. March 18th. 8:30 AM.
He arrived on his own schedule, not mine.
The Lyrics
VERSE 1
Your due date was St. Patrick’s Day
And I had big plans laid out that way
Irish blood running through our veins
Your twenty-first birthday, no better way to celebrate
So I walked around doing squats all morning long
In every grocery aisle, I was staying strong
Finally felt the labor start to come
Grabbed my things, said “baby, this is it, let’s run”
CHORUS
But you had your own timeline, your own sweet plan
Born March eighteenth at eight-thirty AM
I wanted green and shamrocks, a perfect Irish scene
But you chose the day after, and that’s just fine with me
‘Cause you came when you were ready, on your own time
March eighteenth, you’re forever mine
VERSE 2
Got to the hospital on St. Patrick’s Day
Not a single nurse was wearing green, I have to say
Where’s the spirit? Where’s the pride?
But I had a mission burning deep inside
Purple-pink water bottle in my hand
Squatting through those hallways, executing my plan
Eleven-thirty hit, I finally gave in
“Give me that epidural, let’s see where this begins”
BRIDGE
I fell asleep and dreamed of what you’d be
While you were getting ready to finally meet me
Morning light broke through, and there you were
The best St. Patrick’s gift, just a day deferred
Your twenty-first might not have shamrocks everywhere
But you’ll be surrounded by people who care
What This Song Really Means
This isn’t just about a birth story. It’s about letting go of control. It’s about learning that the people we love most will always surprise us, will always have their own path, and our job isn’t to force them into our vision – it’s to love them exactly as they are.
I spent months imagining this perfect St. Patrick’s Day birth. I had the story all written in my head. And my son said “nah, I’m coming March 18th” and you know what? It’s BETTER this way.
Because March 18th is HIS day. Not shared with a global holiday. Not shared with parades and green beer and everyone else’s celebrations. Just his.
And that line in the bridge – “Your twenty-first might not have shamrocks everywhere / But you’ll be surrounded by people who care” – that’s the lesson I learned at 8:30 AM on March 18th. It was never about the perfect Irish birthday party. It was always about him, about love, about being surrounded by people who care.
The Musical Journey
This song needed to feel like a conversation – like I’m sitting with you, telling you this story with a smile and maybe a few tears. The verses have this conversational, slightly humorous tone (the squats! the purple-pink water bottle! the nurses with no green!), but the chorus hits you with that pure maternal love.
The bridge is where I get emotional every time. That moment of falling asleep, surrendering to the process, and then waking up to meet him – that’s sacred. That’s the moment everything changed.
To My Son
Someday you’ll be old enough to hear this song and really understand it. And I hope you know: you were worth the wait. You were worth letting go of my plans. You were worth everything.
You came on your own time, and you’ve been teaching me about love and patience and surrender ever since.
March eighteenth, you’re forever mine.
❤️ Melanie
