Passionate About San Antonio
and the Moms Who Live Here

This is 40: Life at 40 Weeks Postpartum

On Saturday, November 5, 2017, my baby girl turned 40 weeks old. I gave birth to Anabel when I was 40 weeks plus 3 days into my pregnancy. She’s now been cooing, giggling, and bringing wonder and amazement to my days for almost as long as I anticipated her arrival.

If I thought those first 40 weeks of pregnancy were crazy, fast, long, and full of promise, let’s just say the last 40 weeks have been upping the game every day since.

My daughter’s abilities to melt my heart and fill it with happiness are beyond expectation. And to say my husband and I marvel over her awesomeness would not really give our feelings full credit.

That said, the more things change the more they stay the same, and some things are no different now than they were then, at 40 weeks pregnant. For example…

Tiredness. I am tired. And now it’s not because I can’t get comfortable (I sleep like the dead), it’s because there’s not enough time in the day. I extend the hours of my day and sleep less to try to get more done. Even if the “more” is another episode of Real Housewives of Wherever or another chapter in my book club book.

Laundry. It’s still there, and yet there’s more of it—especially with the cloth diapering. But diapers are easy to put away! (I wrote a little bit about that in a post a few months ago.) Adult clothes are still not as fun to stick in drawers, especially when that cuts into my reading time. So if you see me wearing the same thing four times this month, trust that it’s clean—it just never made it onto a hanger.

The litter box. We have cats, and while pregnant, I had a reprieve from every cat owner’s least favorite part of cat ownership. But now I can’t give my husband a knowing look that the smell is bothering me. I am more than capable of scooping that poop myself.

Dishes. These sneak up on us faster than ever. Now it’s not just bottles with five parts, it’s tiny spoons, brightly colored bowls, and three-part sippy cups! I’m glad we spent the money to renovate the kitchen and that I really like the color of our backsplash, because I’m looking at it. A lot.

Pet fur. Oh, how I love our fur babies! But the pet fur struggle is real, and with a crawling baby, it’s extra real. Vacuuming is no longer reserved for those last 10 frantic minutes before guests arrive. It is now a mandatory two to three times a week celebration of something that sucks.40

But some things do change, like…

Date Night. I’m counting every night we’ve sat on the sofa and shared a bottle of wine while catching up on the SNL, HBO’s finest Sunday night programming, and of course the show that binds all couples together: South Park. So we’ve had approximately 150 date nights. I breastfed for four months; we can’t drink wine every night; and sometimes we don’t have anything to watch.

Sunday Funday. Not as many bottomless mimosas, and more staring at the bottoms of the hippos at the zoo. Seeing our daughter start to engage with the animals is amazing, and day drinking is not as easy for me to do at 35 as it was at 33. It’s a win-win for all.

Nap Time. My husband and I could crush an afternoon nap like no one else. Especially on a Sunday Funday. Now nap time is the time to scoop the poop, vacuum up the pet fur, and get the dishes done.

Movies. If there was a trivia game with a category about movies, then you wanted my husband and me on your team. Now we see commercials for movies available on demand that I didn’t know exist. What’s the must-see movie this holiday season? No, really, please tell me in the comments because I have NO idea!

Love. I am that person who is going to say it. I didn’t know love like this existed. And not just the love I have for Anabel, but the love I have for the people who love her. When she is happy, I am happy, my heart is warm, and my life is full.

I can’t wait to see what happens in the next 40 weeks.   

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