When I first tell someone that my brother and I share the same birthday they are usually immediately confused. They know I'm not a twin and it shocks them that my brother and I were born on the same exact day five years apart.

In 2003, I got a birthday "present" that would eventually become one of the best I ever could have gotten. Although, it definitely came with its challenges along the way. This present's name is Jacob Richard Saxby, and as I sit in front of the computer writing this today as an 18-year-old, he is 13 years old.

I was five when I shared this first birthday with my little tow-headed brother on July 14, but I don't remember much of this first one besides the big button I wore on my shirt labeling me as a big sister for not the first time, but the second. This time was different. My parents beamed when this baby boy was born despite his being club-footed and needing surgery to correct it, he was their first and only son.

The first challenge I remember regarding our shared birthday did not arrive until the next year. Everyone who has been around a child knows that the first birthday is typically a big one. I'm not sure why because the child is definitely not going to remember it at all but I guess there is just something about a kid smashing their face in an almost too heavily decorated cake and displaying the sheer, utter amazement of eating nothing but pure sugar for the first time ever on their sweet innocent faces.

At turning a mere six years old, I was definitely past this stage, but Jacob was not. My whole family came for the first joined birthday party because remember the first birthday was, after all, a BIG deal.

I remember one part of this day very distinctly. It was time to open presents and my family was all gathered in the living room. There were two stacks of presents, a large stack for my brother and a slightly smaller stack for me.

It didn't take long before my relatives, despite their age and relation had all hovered around my cute little brother opening his large and interesting toys and me being left alone on my side of the room opening my gifts. These gifts happened to be a collection of almost all the books ever written by Roald Dahl. It didn't take long for my mom to notice me opening and holding my new and already beloved books with tears running down my face.

I mean, after all, it isn't even a real birthday without some tears, is it? She said, "What's wrong don't you like your books?" and I nodded but proceeded to tell her that everyone was watching Jacob and nobody cared about me anymore. She hugged me and told me that that wasn't true, that babies just needed a little bit more attention and that I needed to be there for Jacob because I had had five birthday's all alone and all about me before him and he would never have one without me by his side.

This is an idea that I have carried with me since that day. She was right, I had had five birthdays without him, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I didn't want any more birthdays without him. The first five birthdays didn't even matter anymore. On your birthday, it is very easy to just worry about yourself and make the whole day about "me, myself, and I."

Having a shared birthday has taught me so much more than that, plus it doesn't hurt to have two cakes and twice as many presents and guests. Our shared birthday is just a part of me now, a fact about he and I that sets us apart and gives us a bond that most siblings don't get to experience.

We are alike in more ways than not and I'm not sure if that is linked to our shared birthday or not but I am convinced that he was the best fifth birthday "present" I ever could have received.