Lately I’ve given much thought to a simple phrase I’ve heard throughout my life, mostly when it comes to brand new challenges. “You know what to do.” I’ve heard these words spoken in the very beginning of my career, often accompanied with,”figure it out.” Everyone says this to me. The confidence is appreciated, however I feel as though it’s the theme of my life. I’ll admit that when I asked a question or felt lost, and received either of these two responses, it left me with my wheels spinning. I’d ask for advice, but would come out completely empty handed. As a result, I’d feel fairly overwhelmed.
Over two weeks have passed since the birth of baby London, and I’ve officially crossed over the the other side. Hello Mamaville! Yes, I believe it’s actually a destination. From my birth story to postpartum thoughts and all the feels, here’s the report.
August 2nd, 2019. That day goes down as the sweetest in our lives. At 4:47pm, our rainbow baby boy London Martin, came bursting into the world.
On a recent warm, summer Sunday, I sat at the fountain at Lincoln Center. It was the very same spot, that we sat, facing each other last year, around midnight, after receiving the most soul crushing news of our lives. (You may remember the photo. I’ll never forget it.) An exact year has gone by, and this summer day feels much different. We are in that very same spot, but I feel the warm, rays of the sun beating down on us. I hear the fountain trickling behind us, but more importantly, I place my hand on my very round belly, to feel the kicks of our growing baby boy.
1st day of spring, and I’m feeling that sunshine. #SunsOutBunsOut as most of the swimwear styles will tell you, in Miami Beach this Wednesday afternoon.
Oh, the winter blues. They’re a snooze, aren’t they? It’s bitter cold out, and you find yourself zipping up puffer coat after puffer coat, bundled like the Michelan Man, just to stay warm. I know. I’m with ya.
On a cold, wintry long weekend, we quickly packed our bags for an unexpected adventure. While we had been dreaming of a sunny beach vaca for the weekend, which we had waited to long to book, we decided to simplify our plans. We received an incredibly generous gift for a stay at the luxurious, 5 star Greenwich Hotel, located in Tribeca. This past weekend, seemed like a perfect opportunity to spend a romantic weekend together, on a staycation, in our home sweet home, New York City.
On a dark, rainy, New Year’s Eve night, I watched raindrops trickle down my window. As I peered out outside, I saw reflections of the city lights, as the rain wiped away the dust of 2018. “Does this seem symbolic of the year?” Grant said. He had it 100% right. It most certainly did. The dust of that stormy year finally settles, and we move on.
It’s sweater season, people, and that down right makes me cringe. Holiday lights are everywhere I look, and while it’s all merry and bright, I operate best with a daily dose of sunshine. Screw the snow. (Why do I live in New York?)
Red swimsuit. Sunshine beaming on my face. Toes in the sand. The waves crashing around me. Visions of a lifeguard stand off in the distance. “Runnnnn!” Grant yells, as I hear the sound of the camera’s shutter fluttering in the distance. I sprint towards him in my teeny, red bikini across the sands of Miami Beach. My hair whipping behind me in slow motion. In my head, it felt like a scene from Baywatch.