She never remembers to send out birthday cards. Not that she really needs to. Everyone she knows, or at least knows enough to have reminders set up on her cell phone, which winds up coming alive and beeping at some ungodly hour the day of, pretty much either lives or works with her. George and Izzie told her theirs, so did Derek, Alex's she had to find on her own, but it was worth it for the look on his face when she passed by, throwing 'happy birthday' over her shoulder with an amused smile. Cristina on the other hand is so damn secretive Meredith has yet to work it out of her.

She never has to send cards to family because she doesn't really have any. Her mother doesn't recognize her half the time, let alone remember her own birthday. Her father…well she wouldn't even know what to say. She had no siblings. She hadn't kept in touch with her aunts and uncles, or her cousins so she wouldn't even know where to address the cards if she wanted to. And she didn't really. It was no wonder her fellow interns were what she considered her family. They had been more of one than her real one ever had or would be.

That might have explained why she felt so utterly confused as she stood in front of the birthday card section of the local Rite-Aid. She hadn't done this in a good four or five years and there were just so many choices. Cards with flowers on them, the sentiments on the inside too cutesy to be meaningful. Cards with images of characters that she didn't recognize. She'd already ruled out the cards that seemed comical either because they tried to be funny and really weren't, or were too dirty for a three year old's mind. And did it really matter anyway? The little girl on the receiving end wouldn't be able to read the words no matter what they were.

"What do I do?" She asked into the phone, panicked. A woman down at the end of the aisle kept glancing at her in disapproval, and Meredith would have given her a dirty look had the woman not been sifting through cards of condolence.

A barely concealed laugh came over the line, before Izzie spoke, "Meredith, just calm down. It's just a card." She sounded rushed, and the rustling of papers in the background told Meredith that she was still at work.

"I just…I want it to be the right one." She said, with a sigh. "They're all just so impersonal."

"They kind of have to be considering they print like ten thousand copies of the same card." Izzie didn't seem to realize that that wasn't very helpful until after the words had left her lips. "Seriously, I'm sure she'll love it even if it's the stupidest one in the store because it's from you. Just go with your gut."

Later, as she stood in the kitchen, she watched her little girl, with her small mouth, and Derek's full hair, giggle and point at the picture of Winnie the Pooh imprinted on the card Meredith had eventually decided on.

"Look, daddy. Pooh Bear." The smile that broke out across her face was raw, and spread all the way to her eyes.

Derek was fiddling in the cabinet, searching for matches, but paused to look over at the image, and then towards Meredith, winking at her, and wearing a grin of his own. "Mom picked that out special for you." He told her, striking the match and lighting the single candle stuck into the yellow frosted cupcake. "Just like Izzie made these cupcakes special for you."

Meredith grimaced as she glanced at the platter of cupcakes for the party the next day. Izzie had gone a little overboard. She looked back just in time to join in a horribly out of tune chorus of 'Happy Birthday' with Derek, watching as their daughter squeezed her eyes shut and blew out the candle.