It is my birthday today.
I like birthdays, but more so other people’s. I am mostly in it for the cake, because I seriously love cake. I am not sure dairy-free cake will quite cut it, but Pea has decided to try to adapt a recipe, so I’m excited.
Last year on my birthday, Pea and I flew back from Hilly Quirky for the last time, having vacated our apartment there, and with our possessions in transit on a moving truck behind us. Spud was, unbeknownst to us*, burrowing merrily into my uterine lining as our plane jetted across the continent. It was the start of a busy, stressful, joyous, painful, unique year.
This year I turn 35. According to popular science**, my reproductive tract should be withering and falling out of my body as a desiccated lump in the next day or two. Amid unending “will you guys have another?” questions***, it’s not a milestone that is designed to make me feel amazing.
I do feel amazing though. I am tired, and often overwhelmed, unwashed, or both. I don’t care. I have a partner who is loving and kind and quirky and funny and delicious. I have a bright-eyed, cheerful kiddo who learned to giggle this week. I have my dream job, and, one year in, I know I will enjoy it. We have a lovely house that we are daily making more a home. This life is a good one, and it took all 35 of those years to get here.
Enjoy your Mondays, all. Have a slice of cake if one crosses your path, for me.
* I mean, we knew he was in there, but did not know if anything was going on in an implantation kind of way.
** Notably NOT according to actual science, which has shown recently that the fertility drop between 35-40 is more gradual than previously touted.
*** for serious, these inquiring minds can eff right off. And if my lengthy answer about how we’re not sure, but if we do we might not be able to, despite embryos in deep freeze in another country makes them feel awkward, then GOOD. Maybe they will not ask the next person with a newborn that question. Newborns are not conducive to baby-fever, my friends. Because why would I want to have a baby? I already have a baby, who’s pretty damn awesome thank-you-very-much, right here!! Literally right here, he’s asleep on my chest. <end rant> <gingerly replace baby in crib>