My twin girls were born in February 2016, and all I wanted for my 37th birthday two months later was a hotel room by myself for one night. For previous birthdays, pre-kids, there had been drinks with friends, raucous karaoke nights and long dinners at fancy restaurants. But with two-month-old twins attached to my breast, the ultimate birthday gift was a party of one in a quiet hotel with a rooftop pool in Pasadena, California. I told my husband what I wanted, and he arranged for his mom to come out from New York for a few days and spend the night at our house to help with night feedings. As I pumped and froze my breastmilk in preparation for my solo night, I fantasized about sleeping in and lying in the sun by the pool with a magazine.
By the time my birthday arrived, I felt nervous about being away from my daughters, but I was so exhausted that the first thing I did when I got into my hotel room was nap. It was the most glorious nap because I didn?t have to listen for crying. I took a leisurely stroll to pick up dinner, listened to a podcast and enjoyed walking without lugging a cumbersome diaper bag. I ate my dinner in my hotel room, appreciating the silence around me. I FaceTimed my family before the girls? bedtime, and while I missed their cute baby faces, it was also a relief to curl up in a king-sized bed and read a celebrity magazine with nobody needing anything from me. I woke up at 4 a.m. to pump because that was my routine at home.
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