travel with me to the fourth trimester

It’s 3 AM. I haven’t slept for more than three hours in a row in over a month. I am feeding my newborn son, and between sessions, he is stretching his little arms above his head and yawning cutely. He looks at me, I gush, wondering how in the world I got such a cute baby, and he looks me in the eye and poops so badly that it blows out past his diaper, past his clothes, past the burp cloth I lay underneath him for this exact scenario, past the sheets, and into the mattress cover. Damn it, I think, too exhausted to problem solve. I am no longer a human, I am an animal. I am deep in the trenches of the “fourth trimester” - the sacred time after you have a baby to adapt to your new identity and heal from birth. Or so it was described to me. This time feels more like a physical shedding of who I once was and a wild crash into uncharted territory.

For someone who has had a really challenging nine-year path to motherhood, I was worried that my postpartum experience might be tainted by the anxiety and depression that followed me during pregnancy. I even worried that after all this time and effort, I wouldn’t like motherhood and my life might be over!

I am happy to report that despite a bunch of difficulties, this time has been the most special four weeks of my life. Leaning into this special time with just the three of us as we get used to our new family dynamic cannot be replaced. The mundane has never been so romantic. We are doing laundry, changing diapers, leaning on friends for meals, taking walks that used to be 20 minutes and now last hours, and keeping each other motivated during sleepless nights.

Friends describe the fourth trimester as a “vortex” - and I see why. The days and nights blend together. There is no choice but to be present. I have to attune myself to my son, notice his cues, when he is hungry or when he is overtired. I look back at pictures from the days in the hospital when he was first born, and pictures now that he is a month old, and I simply cannot believe how much he has grown and changed. But when? I spend all day staring at him - how can I not notice his extra chins or thigh rolls? When did he start staring at his mobile, or noticing the light out the window, or cooing at his dad?

Despite having a positive birth experience, I have had a particularly tough recovery from birth. Just when I thought I was past waking up soaking in sweat from the hormone change, I experienced a post-birth complication requiring an emergency procedure and an ER visit. I did what I needed to do, including dragging my newborn across Naples to get this medical situation under control. Now that I’m feeling better, I am dealing with plugged ducts and mastitis symptoms and learning how to breastfeed.

My body feels like a receptacle for birthing and keeping this child alive. I wake up every day with a primal hunger of a wild animal. I am not grazing like a sheep - I am a vulture attacking my prey with ferocity as I shovel eggs, lentils, protein cookies, smoothies, and homemade chicken broth down my gullet. I never had any particular pregnancy cravings, but while breastfeeding, there is nothing that can satiate me.

I have breastfed in public bathroom stalls where a Brazilian acquaintance is massaging out my boobs to get rid of a clog, I have breastfed in restaurants, on park benches, in the hospital, after surgery, and from the comfort of my own couch with a big pillow.

I didn’t picture my postpartum period to be so feral. I see myself as a ferocious, primal being, ready to do anything to take care of her son. It is amazing what a woman’s body is capable of so soon after birth, and the mental fortitude it takes to do it all.

As my body heals and learns how to breastfeed, my brain remains in a permanent reptilian state, unable to accomplish anything other than staying alive. Reading feels impossible, I don’t watch or listen to the news, and I didn’t even know my home country initiated war since this baby was born. All I can handle is trash TV, or at the very least, low-stakes TV shows.

Even with all the drama and difficulty that comes along with a slow healing process, I still see this period as one of the most fulfilling of my life. I have a purpose, and that purpose is to take care of my son. I also didn’t know caring for a newborn with my husband could be so much fun. We are laughing at the faces he makes when he escapes from his sleep sack and stretches his arms overhead, cracking up when he pees all over us, giggling when we get him to have a good burp, and encouraging him when he holds his neck up during tummy time.

We love hearing his sqwauks and squeeks, his kitten purrs and his bird chirps, his grumbles and even his whimpers. So far, one of my favorite experiences has been feeding him side-lying at 3 am with his little foot kicking my soft belly. I remember all the nights I woke up from his kicks when he was inside my belly, dreaming of what he would be like on the outside. All those nights of worry and anxiety about whether he would ever be here, and now he’s here, and everything feels right in the world. It was always supposed to be him.

• Love is Blind France, I’m sorry but I had to watch this, even tho the relationships are toxic, French people talking about love is bobo chic

• Bridgerton Season Four: This season’s storyline was so incredibly frustrating, but Benedict Bridgerton is eye candy! Most attractive Bridgerton brother IMO. I also always love to see the costumes, and the music is great.

• Queer Eye Season 10 - can’t believe it’s the last season. Tan just keeps getting chicer and chicer. He is my favorite of the Fab Five.

• The English Game, a mini-series period piece about how a Scottish player transformed the game of football (soccer), with a great love storyline to keep things interesting! Loved by both my husband and me.

• Sex Education, why didn’t anyone tell me about this show? The characters are so lovable, especially my favorite, Eric Effiong! There are lots of famous British actors who have gone on to have hit roles.

• Shrinking, this is my favorite show on TV. I love Jason Segal, and of course, Jessica Williams is a star. I am late to the Jessica Williams train, as she got famous a while ago from her podcast “Two Dope Queens” - but I thought she was great in “Love Life” on Netflix. Then I saw this romcom called “The Incredible Jessica James” with Chris O’Dowd - you’re just rooting for her the whole time. She has a confident and dazzling presence; it’s an energy I want more of.