Today is my 34th birthday, Clara! Someday you’ll think, “Wow, that’s so old,” and compare it to your friends’ parents’ ages. Someone will always win with the youngest parents. You’ll probably land somewhere in the middle—and I hope you feel comfortable with that.
Building the Life That Brought You Here
One day you’ll ask why I had you when I did. I’ll tell you how I worked toward stability for you. How your Papá and I met six years earlier, how we fought to bring him to the States. It was expensive and frustrating, especially during COVID and Trump’s first administration. We fought to live together, to build a life here. We chose California, celebrated our marriage here, and bought a home in my hometown. It took us two years to have you. You were thoughtfully planned and hoped for, attentively awaited.
Birthdays Aren’t Just Mine Anymore
Birthdays are supposed to be about the person aging another year, so today should be all about me… well me, and your Grandpa Karl who shares my birthday. Really, it’s all about you though —and will be for some time. You’ll think so too until you start learning the difference between self and others. Lots of psych theories out there on that. One day, if you’re interested, we can nerd out about them together.
In the US, the birthday person is treated out. People buy them drinks or food as their gift to them. In Spain and other parts of the world, the birthday person treats everyone else. They invite them out and pay for their meal in gratitude for their company. You’ll probably be doing a bit of each throughout your life. People will treat you, and you’ll reciprocate.
It’s funny: people tell moms on special days like birthdays to “get out despite the baby,” “do things for yourself,” “take a break.” I used to think the same—that self-care meant time away from kids. I’m sure I even said it to friends who were parents. But now I know that’s not what I want, not while you’re this little. I want to spend my birthday with you, as a family. A child-free outing doesn’t appeal—at least not yet. A couple of solo hours would be nice, but until you can bottle-feed, it honestly feels torturous to leave you without comfort or food.
Learning to Balance My Needs and Yours
I’ve reflected on this a lot. Sometimes I feel selfish wanting to get out or see friends, even with you in tow. It means splitting my brain between you and whatever else is happening. If you’re yawning, I feel like I should be putting you to sleep, and it chips away at my confidence when I’m not.
But I never judge other moms that way. I see them at the park—one baby asleep in the car seat, another on the slide—and I think maybe that’ll be us someday. Do other moms worry as much as I do? The ones I know seem to go with the flow. Maybe I would too if you bottle-fed, rode happily in the stroller and car, or had fewer tummy troubles. For now, I’m here with you in your darkened nursery, the same songs on repeat, your chest rising and falling against mine, your chin tucked on my shoulder. I love these snuggles.
You’re already growing so fast. Somehow we’ve already sized up in clothes, and tomorrow you’ll be three months old. That sweet pink dress you only wore twice? It doesn’t fit anymore. Your body is already harder for me to carry, holding you to sleep is becoming more demanding. Some day soon you’ll be talking and telling me exactly what you want and need. Someday, you won’t even want to curl up and cuddle (I know – hard for both of us to believe).
What I Truly Wanted This Year
Today—on my birthday—I noticed an attitude shift. Parents always say they don’t want anything, just something simple from their kids. I get it now. I asked your dad for a special note and for us to go to the aquarium so you could see some fish. This morning I soaked up your precious smile, your expressive face, as you stretched your limbs in every direction as you woke up. Even after a rough night of tummy troubles, nothing was more fulfilling than those morning smiles.
That’s what I’ll carry with me today: your smile. Thirteen weeks old, and my little girl is my birthday present. What better gift than time with you and your look-alike dad? I love you both. It still feels entirely unbelievable that the three of us are our own little family now. I couldn’t ask for a better one.
Leave a Reply