My 32nd Birthday, 4th Trimester Recap And First 3 Months With Parker

August 11, 2021

Well the kitchen’s almost always a mess, the girls need to be fed, my breasts are ready to pump, the baby’s up from his nap now and won’t sleep well past three o’clock in the afternoon, thankfully there is one clean bottle to grab while I fend the dogs off for another half hour before Arthur gets back from the gym and can warm up the food he was up all night making and I’ve just now realized I’ve been running solely on a questionable cold cup of coffee for the last seven hours and likely won’t get vegetables in me until after bath and bed but that’s okay because our little baby answered my prayers and started sleeping the night and my mother will fold the laundry when she comes over tomorrow while I get to go to the gym, before I have an hour and a half to shower, pump and eat before I start seeing clients virtually at 10:30am who provide real interesting conversations as they live real interesting lives much more challenging than my own and I get to continue writing and creating at the next pumping session to relieve those clogged lumpy milk ducts right out of my breasts but not before giving each girl a kiss and acknowledging that life has just gotten all the more hectic, my time all the more fleeting, my days all the more different than ever before as they run completely based on a schedule determined by my baby and accompanying milk supply, but alas, the fussiness passes and as he falls asleep I sigh a sigh of relief into my exhausted body, with a tinge of desire to wake him back up just for another warm snuggle in my now empty arms. I finally feed myself, sanitize the bottles, spend as much time with my husband as possible before I fall into a zombie like sleep, ready to wake every three hours to pump before the morning comes again and I get to see my little chunky baby open his eyes for the first time that day, an absolute sight to be seen that no matter how jetlagged I feel I’ll never tire of before one of his amazing grandmothers comes over with all the love in their eyes, allowing me yet another hurried set of moments to take care of myself, ones that I am beyond grateful for, ones I am still attempting to slow down and appreciate more fully.

And today’s no different but there is cake.

Life is messy. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still glamorous at certain points, but far from this glamorous mess I staged while running around like a chicken with its head cut off in time to shoot right before bath time, our baby’s happy hour of sorts before bed.

And honestly this is nothing new. August always finds a way to catch me overwhelmed. Self-inflicted of course as I decided to enter the world 32 years ago before my mom could officially get to the hospital to birth me in a more civil fashion. And I choose a wedding date just shy of my 30th birthday, in the height of our condo renovation stress. I’d suppose all the hoopla around my birthday has been somewhat self-inflicted and perhaps that is the point?

I truly believe I am only a few resources and a less than supportive partner away from postpartum.

I’m starting to think I should just pack up my family and friends and head somewhere chic and French for the entire month of August each year? What a nice time of year it would be to setup camp in Provence…

Having a birthday at the end of summer has always had it’s perks, especially growing up in a place like Chicago where everyone is beyond thrilled to celebrate you at the absolute peak of summer, just before we all need to pack up our camp bags and swap them out for a desk and chic school supplies.

The ice cream cakes may have also had something to do with it, or the simple fact that I just love any reason to celebrate.

It’s quite the marker I must say, the pinnacle of transition, the peak of annual reflection before we settle back into the familiar routine of school, work and the start of the holiday season.

Life is messy. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still glamorous at certain points, but far from this glamorous mess I staged while running with like a chicken with its head cut off in time to shoot right before bath time, our baby’s happy hour of sorts before bed.

And what a transition it’s been.

Becoming a mom is something I always looked forward to in life and I am very happy to be here. In the grand scheme of things I consider myself exceptionally lucky to have had a relatively easy birth experience and a healthy baby. Parker has been a joy from day one and even though I’ve struggled with guilt, worries, physical discomfort and the loss of my own independence I am blatantly aware of how fortunate I am to have family nearby to help, as well as the emotional and financial resources it takes to care for a child. It’s been an absolute blessing to be able to take care of myself with routine exercise and sleep, albeit extremely fragmented sleep, but sleep nonetheless! I truly believe I am only a few resources and a less than supportive partner away from postpartum.

Parker gave me the best birthday gift yet, which is a full night’s sleep! For him, I still wake up every 3-4 hours to pump but I am NOT complaining! I switched to exclusively pumping breastmilk about a month and a half in. Parker was getting super frustrated on my breast and would take less and less from me as we were already supplementing with formula from the start. It was definitely the best choice but it is tiring. Breastfeeding in general whether via pump or via baby is exhausting and time consuming, something I didn’t quite understand until navigating it myself. Fortunately I work for myself from the comfort of my home which is great, however, even leaving the house for more than 45 minutes can become a challenge!

All that aside, Parker is such a wonderful little baby and I’m overwhelmed by the love I feel for him. At three months now it appears he’s fully woken up from the sleepy newborn phase and into this chunky little man who’s smile lights my heart on fire. Each day he seems to learn something new and I just can’t help but want to hold on ever so tightly to this time I won’t get back!

So much of the things that worry me or stress me out on a daily basis are really small in the grand scheme of things. I can’t help but be bothered by having a routine that’s constantly being challenged, a baby who’s often unpredictable and the gut wrenching feeling of not being where I’d like to be professionally. But at the end of the day having a clean house won’t truly make me happy, hitting a certain milestone in my career can still happen in the future and learning to ride that wave instead of complaining about it coming too quickly will serve me most in life.

At three months now it appears he’s fully woken up from the sleepy newborn phase and into this chunky little man who’s smile lights my heart on fire.

Funny how after all these years I’m still striving for more, only this time with a lot more self-awareness around what more really means.

More chunky cheek kisses, more sly smiles, more stale cake but cake nonetheless.

Monica Gisele Simanovsky

Monica Gisele Simanovsky