i can’t believe i’m so lucky.

Well, hey you guys.

I feel like I’ve finally gotten into a bit of a routine so I thought I’d update!

I gave birth at the end of the December and to be honest, it was all quite a blur. The day before they threatened to induce me, I went into labor and thank God my mom was camped out in one of the spare bedrooms at Brady’s parents’ apartment because I was so out of tune with my body that I didn’t realize what was going on. It was in the evening and Brady was home with his head in his laptop and immediately sprung into action when my mom ran around screaming what was going on.

I may have been in labor and pain, but that didn’t make me any less annoyed at my mom for causing a scene.

“Relax or I’m not going,” I told her.

We got to the hospital and I immediately accepted all drugs offered even after the nurses asked, “Are you sure?” sixteen times. Apparently a lot of women go in there with the intention of having a baby naturally with no drugs, but that was never a part of my plan.

I was feeling really good and optimistic and then Brady told me that his parents were on their way and wanted to meet the baby as soon as she was born. I started vomiting all over myself and then uncontrollably crying because it was so gross. Brady stood next to my head with a stoic face, not saying anything.

“Can you like get away from me if you aren’t going to help?” I screamed at him. He walked away with his hands in his pockets and went back to his laptop. He’d brought it because apparently he had soo much work to get done before taking a few weeks off. I hadn’t thought of work since my last day.

Other than a few hours of uncontrollably crying and throwing up, my labor was fairly easy and uneventful. In total it only took about seven hours for her to arrive. I’d read a ton of birthing stories so I’d made myself super anxious about pain, tearing, pooping, blood, etc. which is probably why I threw up. Luckily though, the medicine helped and everything was okay. I wasn’t concerned about any of that shit in the end.

She’s so cute. As soon as they pulled her out, my mom shouted to Brady, “She looks exactly like you!”

It’s like, mom, she’s covered in blood and fluid, she doesn’t look like anything. But she was right. Baby had huge blue eyes and wispy golden hair and has Brady’s literal face. She was tiny at birth (just over 5 pounds), but totally healthy. Dr. Sabrina warned me that she’d be small, but had zero concerns.

She was born on the Saturday before Christmas and I let the nurses know we’d need to be home for Christmas. Not because we had any plans or anything, but because who wants to spend their Christmas in the hospital? Plus, she had a fabulous temporary nursery waiting back at the apartment. Brady’s mom had hired someone to put together a beautiful lilac nursery – even after I reminded her that we’d be moving into our own place soon.

“She’ll still need a place to stay when you’re in the city,” Brady’s mom sniffled.

Luckily though, because I didn’t have any operations and my itty bitty baby was healthy, we were cleared to leave the very next day. I’d definitely overpacked for our 38 hour stay, but I was glad I had essentials like my Slip pillowcase, turban, jade roller, and Flaming Hot Cheetos.

That Tuesday was Brady’s birthday and Christmas Eve and to be honest, I’d completely forgotten about his birthday. Obviously he wasn’t going to bring it up and I hadn’t finished getting him gifts. Brady’s parents wanted to come over and when he asked me if I was okay with it, I told him to make the decision on his own. They had been very nice at the hospital when first meeting her, but I wasn’t exactly l dying to spend more time with them. Especially because my parents there. I was too exhausted to fight about it.

So they arrived later that evening with dinner (from the fancy Italian down the street) and gifts for the baby and no one else (it was Brady’s birthday!). We all picked at the food, squealed at the gadgets and cooed over the baby and it actually felt kind of….normal? Like, if I were back home in Houston it was exactly what I’d be doing with my family. And for things to be so normal with Brady’s parents was not normal.

And then later, while I was sitting on the couch with my mom and Brady’s mom, discussing sitter/nanny options (my mom is trying to stay with us indefinitely), and the baby was sleeping on my chest and the men had been watching something in the media room, Brady came over and said that he had something for me. He had a little square gold box in his hand. I was thinking, “I know this man is not going to propose right now. Not when I look and feel disgusting, I can’t even think straight, the baby is *actually* sleeping and his judgmental parents are here. There’s no way he’s this stupid.”

But still, I assumed he was and I was kind of excited. Like, fucking finally. I’d have a beautiful ring and a fiancé and our little family would make sense. His mother would shut up. We’d do a smaller wedding than I’ve ever envisioned and it would be in a historic church in Paris or a vineyard in Italy. I’d need to lose twenty pounds and I’d get a 1920s inspired gown (covered in beading and no lace) that fit my new hot body like a glove. What would the baby wear? I started to get nervous and hot – with everything else going on, I had not prepared for this to happen today.

Brady leaned down so I could see what was in the box, looking pleased with himself. It was a pair of diamond stud earrings. I wanted to slap him.

“Oh,” I said, sounding like the ungrateful bitch that I am. “They’re stunning.”

Like, are you kidding me? As if I didn’t already have a pair of diamond studs.

“What is it?” Brady’s mom asked from her post on the couch.

“Oh, they’re beautiful!” my mom crowed. “About a carat each. They are just perfect!”

Brady’s mom got up to see the earrings close up and nodded an approval. She looked from me to Brady and then retreated back to her seat.

“Thank you. I love them,” I said to just Brady. Suddenly, the look on his face told me he realized his error and was super embarrassed. For someone so smart, Brady is sometimes really stupid. I love the earrings, of course and I know they were expensive. But still. He had to have known.

The first few days were chaos because there was Christmas and everyone was in town and wanted to meet her and we couldn’t get into a routine and she was screaming and not sleeping and Tucker was not a fan and I discovered I’m not going to breastfeed and I’d done no research on formulas. I almost lost my shit fourteen times. We spent a lot of time crying together.

My mom and Brady were a huge help though. Brady took a month off work (well, three and a half weeks) – nothing compared to the four month maternity leave I’m taking, but he got so much accomplished. He bought a new car – a new and sportier version of his old car. I didn’t even know that he’d gotten it until we were going to a doctor’s appointment one day and he pulled up in his sexy new car.

“What? When did this happen?” I asked.

“A few days ago. I stopped by the dealership while I was out,” he said casually.

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“I told you that I’d be getting a new car…”

“But you didn’t tell me you actually bought one,” I said as I strapped the baby in back. Brady just looked at me. “You’re so weird.”

Like, who does that? Who wouldn’t come home excited to show off their new car? He withholds so much information that it’s obviously deliberate, but I don’t understand why.

We closed on the house in Connecticut and Brady and my mom spent a ton of time painting, accepting millions of furniture deliveries, putting together shelves, etc. Eventually I had to make a trip up there to check the progress as I needed everything to be absolutely perfect. The majority of the place was painted a soft, inviting gray (Benjamin Moore’s Stonington Gray). I’d ordered a fabulous (expensive) tufted bench with lucite legs for the foyer area and some artwork for the walls from a friend in Houston. My mom found a vintage glass Art Deco chandelier at an estate sale and it pulled the whole area together fabulously. I’d ordered a massive wooden ten person table for our formal dining room (we might start having dinner parties, who knows) and with the wallpaper, mirrors and fresh floral centerpiece and table settings my mom had put together, it was so chic. I know everyone is into the whole farmhouse look these days, but I am absolutely not. If I see another white and wood dining room, I will scream.

“I’d like to completely redo that guest bathroom upstairs to get it to match the others. Completely gut it and start over. Do you know a contractor we could work with?” my mom said.

I was already feeling emotional about all the work she and Brady had done on the place to have it ready for us and when she asked about a contractor I immediately thought of Brendan who I haven’t seen since I left work at the end of November. I burst into tears. I miss him.

Brady’s mom stopped by a lot the first few weeks. At first she was really helpful and amazing and would bring food and even hired someone bring groceries by twice a week. She was so sweet with the baby and would encourage me to get out of the house, go for a walk or shopping or whatever. I already had so much help from my mom and Brady that I was hardly having the overwhelmed new mom feelings. My mom and I would take turns feeding the baby and putting her to sleep during the day and when Brady went back to work, he’d come home and immediately take her off my hands. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was.

But when Brady’s mom found out I’m not breastfeeding, she said it was “selfish” and that she knew I wasn’t ready to have a baby.

“You should know that nursing your baby is the healthy and correct thing to do. In fact, I know you that and you have still chosen not to do it,” she said.

This was on a day when Brady was at work and my mom was back in Houston. She’d come over and let me know that my baby was hungry as if she knows my baby’s feeding schedule better than me. Obviously, she already knew that I wasn’t breastfeeding and wanted to confront me about it.

“It’s not that I’ve chosen not to do. I wanted to breastfeed obviously,” I said back.

“Why didn’t you see a consultant?” she wanted to know.

“I didn’t think I had to,” I said back and we were silent.

Now she brings it up as often as possible and claims that’s the reason my baby is so small. And Brady and my mom don’t see the big deal.

“Oh, who cares what she says,” my mom said dismissively.

And it’s like, I don’t care what she says, but who wants to have someone judging their parenting all the time? Brady says the usual: he will talk to her. But then I found out that she texts him talking shit about me. Don’t ask how I found out. She continuously calls me selfish and immature. Nothing I’ve never heard before. And instead of defending me, Brady will reply, “Can we talk about this later?”

And do you know what else she does? She says, “Son, she is beautiful/sweet/etc,” and “Son, you really have the perfect baby,” when I’m standing right there.

One day I mumbled, “She’s such a bitch,” and maybe everyone heard me because my mom shouted my name as if I was the one who’d done anything wrong.

But oddly, Brady’s parents invited us on a trip with them next month (they’re paying) and I kind of want to go. Listen, I know Brady’s mother is an evil sociopath, but a vacation is a vacation.

Our new house is pretty much ready to move in, but I don’t have a car yet and that’s my excuse for still being in the city, in Brady’s parents apartment. As impressed as I am with our house, I’m not ready to live in the suburbs and leave everyone and everything I know. Plus, I just hired a cute trainer who is going to whip me into much needed shape.

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