Infant in Arms

I write this as Elliott sleeps next to me in a car seat on an airplane to Boston. We were lucky to get an extra seat for him, since we only registered him as a lap child. 

He's 10 weeks old now, which I think is still too young to be travelling this far, but Isaac was insistent on making a trip during our time off. In one sense, this time will never come again - travelling with just one baby at 10 weeks old. At the same time, it's such a leap of faith - in our ability to ensure his wellbeing, in the safety of cars and planes and public places, in the world in general I guess. 

Admittedly, we will never be able to safeguard him from all the risks of the outside world. If we were to say, send him to daycare at this age, as many parents do, he'd be wildly exposed to all sorts of germs, bacteria and whatnot. And recent news of shootings, floods, and accidents are reminders that there is sometimes truly nothing you can do to fully protect the ones you love. 

But still this is an exercise in knowing our limits for risk when it comes to our child. I'm sure it'll be like this for the rest of his life too, even when we aren't always there or making the decisions for him. 

Can he go out at night? 

On the weekends? 

What for?

Where to? 

With whom? 

How long? 

I'm reminded of how my mother refused to let us out of the house after dark, or stay out when it was too late. Even in the safest city in America, with the most obedient children, she feared not what we would do or what trouble we might get into, but what the world might do to us. 

Maybe that's what it is to be a parent? I guess I'm still learning. 

09.03.25

Month 1

Things we love:

• Face while burping
• Grumpy brows
• Head full of hair
• Contact naps
• Hand holding while nursing 

Things we struggle with:

• Cluster feeding
• Poop + Pee + Spit up combo
• Gassy tummies
• Diaper changes

Elliott was born in a true south Florida summer. June and July were marked by daily downpours, oppressive heat and humidity, and the sweetest local lychee, longan, and mangoes. We're told that the harvest is unusually abundant this year. 

For memories sake, this year was also the first year of the infuriating and heartbreaking Trump administration and the same summer of the Hill County Texas floods. I cried thinking about what it would be like if I'd lost Elliott to floodwaters.

The only time I ever left the house was for doctors appointments - either my own or Elliott's. I found some kind of comfort from watching the storms from our sunroom windows each day, and being at home 24/7 was oddly more comforting than restricting for me.

The first two weeks were brutally gruelling. At one point I recalled watching the challenges in Physical 100, and the contestants describing their bodies crumbling under them. I thought, this must be the same feeling. First it was my recovery, which, was taxing both emotionally and physically. Getting RE-sutured TWICE while constantly replaying and contemplating the things that went "wrong" or "could have been" to avoid the physical injury is not a great place to be on less than 4 hours of sleep a night and having wild hormonal swings. Then it was caring for the baby every 2-3 hours at the same time. I've already described it in a prior post so I won't belabor it here. Finally it was the parents - trying to navigate their often illogical and contradictory rules of confinement, parenting suggestions, and opinions.

By week three though, we were able to get up to 2 hours of interrupted sleep at a time, which felt so, so refreshing. But before we could get too comfortable, we were met with daily crying due to gassiness and lots of spit up, what we were told was normal for babies of that age. At one month, it finally felt like we were above water. I got back to showering daily around 5 weeks, and started helping with household chores around the same time. Granted, we were still largely supported by my mom's daily preparation of meals and extra set of hands to hold baby, but still, we made it above water. 

-------

Elliott is now 7 weeks old. After the first month, Elliott's nursing sessions shortened so significantly that I rarely had a chance to come back to this and finish writing. But at this point, we've survived about two weeks without my mom, gone on our first outing with the three of us, and created some rhythms throughout the week. We've even hosted three dinners and had visitors on several occasions. Cluster feeding is still stressful and feels overwhelming all at once, and then goes away. But here we are, creating new rhythms and living as a family of three. It makes me hopeful as we grow our family, but still bittersweet as I think of the life we used to have. Truly life will never be like it was again, but maybe that's okay.

08.08.25

L&D

Like a baby tooth, that you know is going to hurt like heck when they pull it out, but you know you gotta get it out. 

... That's how I felt about labor and delivery. So in one sense, I was ready for whatever pain would come. It was necessary, it was expected. But even so, I was mistakenly led to believe by the mirage of social media that, as long as I wanted a certain "birth story" as they call it, I would get it. That an all natural, unmedicated birth was best and ideal, and that all was achievable so long as I wanted it to, and advocated for myself to get it.

It didn't happen.

I woke Isaac and my mom to go the hospital at 4 am because of a pretty bloody show, and learned I was 5 cm dilated, even though I hadn't really felt any contractions. Was subsequently admitted but then had inconsistent contractions and no progression for the next 9 hours. Every time I took a nap it seemed like my contractions stopped altogether. 

Intervention 1: At 1 pm they broke my water and then after still seeing no changes, 

Intervention 2: at 3:30 they started pitocin. 

For the next four hours I experienced increasingly painful contractions that grew closer and closer together. I tried maintaining my breathing and pressed against the bed railing or supply carts to counter. Isaac was also pressing against my lower back to help relieve some of the pain. At the end, I was experiencing contractions every minute and my whole body was exhausted trying to to manage the pain and breathing. I was falling asleep between contractions out of complete exhaustion and feared I'd be unable to have the energy to push. At 7:30 that night I asked, "How much longer?" and they said, "Could be another couple hours". So I asked for the epidural at 7:40pm.

I gave birth at 8:35 pm with Intervention 3: an episiotomy, and had a third degree tear. I did not get the epidural.

What followed was an excruciating stitching (x3) and then a painful recovery.

There are so many things that in retrospect we should have asked the OB before going into delivery. 

What interventions might happen and under what circumstances?

What interventions for baby might happen and under what circumstances?

What delivery positions would she be willing to assist me in? 

What was the expectation of time for labor/contractions? What if it takes too long?

For all the questions we asked throughout the pregnancy, I forgot to ask about the ones that affected me the most. While everything for baby was ready and prepared, I guess I had not truly prepared myself for what to expect in delivery, besides just, "pain". In all my reruns and versions of that day, it's likely I still would have delivered by my doctor's orders, even though my body could have waited at least another day to fully dilate and contract on its own. But I genuinely thought I had a few more days before it would all happen. I guess that's life, always thinking you have a little more time.

Would asking more questions and being more stubborn about not getting interventions have resulted in a different outcome? Maybe, maybe not. But I guess it doesn't help to beat myself up for 'not advocating enough' for myself. Ultimately I think I'd opt for the midwife route next time around, still undecided whether I'd suffer through without an epidural or not.

Other things of note: I cannot remember the actual contraction pain. I can tell you that it hurt in my back, but not what it felt like. And the pain just before pushing - I remember making such deep grunting sounds of agony, but that's it. Truly astonishing how the body forgets like that. 

I guess I'll come back to this and a few years time and refresh myself before deciding to endure it all again. 

07.10.2025

Newborn

 We've made it one week.

I don't think I had any sort of appreciation for what new parents go through after a baby is born. It feels a lot like trying to swim in the middle of the ocean after having just a couple lessons in a kiddie pool. I think they also say it's like getting hit by a truck. But I think that's a poor analogy because no one expects you to get up and keep going after getting hit by a truck. 

When they say you have to feed the baby every 2-3 hours, that includes the ~1.5 hour it takes to feed them, burp them, and change their diaper. So if you're super duper lucky, you get ~1.5 hrs of your choice of sleep, eating, using the restroom, showering, or doing absolutely anything else every couple hours. (So long as the baby is willing to be down or doesn't ask to be fed in another half hour/hour).

For my 30th birthday, I woke up for the day around 11 after a less than terrible night with baby. I decide to shower after breakfast for the first time since before giving birth, 5 days ago. We went to a follow up pediatricians appointment for his bilirubin levels, to see if it had gone down. I forgot to put on sunscreen and fill in my brows, but at least I showered. Isaac bought me some flowers and strawberry shortcake from Fresh Market, and he wrote me a card he gave me later that night. I nursed for 4 hrs and 46 minutes that day and slept maybe 3 hrs.

...That was over a week and a half ago now.

Unlike finishing a big project or exam, this is every single day, and it'll be at least another ~3 months until we can imagine sleeping through the night. The days and nights blend together when you're only thinking about surviving. We're fortunate as well that my mom is cooking all our meals and helping with some things around the house. We can't imagine surviving without the help.

And while I yearn for a sleepful night and some sense of "normality", I look at baby every day and think about how he's grown or changed from just a couple days before and how we'll never see that version of him again. The paradox of time.

But here's to our new chapter of parenthood, of learning and adapting and growing on just a few hours of sleep, of experiencing and appreciating all the moments, 

even when we'd much rather just skip to the good parts. 

07.04.2025

Nauseous and Congested

Everyone loves to ask, 

"How do you feel?"

And if it's not that, it'll be, 

"Are you nervous?" "Excited?" "Are you ready?"

Certainly there are many things that one can 'feel' when pregnant.  

In the third trimester I can say I feel nauseous and congested mostly. Nauseous when I eat too much, or eat too fast. Congested almost everyday, but congested as in, my ears are plugged and I can barely hear over the sound of my own breathing. I'm feeling generally worse than I did one trimester ago when I could go hiking without my belly feeling extraordinarily heavy, or eat without wondering if I'll vomit later.

Otherwise, I have very few feelings. 

I have many thoughts though. 

I think about how I haven't decided on curtains, or a lamp for the guest room where my mom and Isaac's mom will stay. And how the room might look if we make it eventually into an office-nursery combo.

I think about how we still need to disinfect bottles, pack a hospital bag, and put backup towels in our cars in case my water should break unexpectedly.

I think about how I don't know if I'm ready to give up this life of  'two'. How I'm going to miss all the time I have for myself, or the time we have with just us.

I think about how every subsequent decision we have to make in life will need to consider one more person, and how we're going to go about making hard decisions.

I think about how I'm supposed to be a good parent, how I might do things similarly or differently than my own parents.  

There are so many things to think about - what does it even matter how I'm feeling? 

Here's to the four week countdown.

 05.22.2025

"Mama"

There's a lady at the OBGYN who used to greet me at all my appointments, even at only 9-10 weeks, as "mama". 

It felt weird and unsuiting - like a shirt too tight in the shoulders. For a long time, I didn't want people to know I was pregnant in part because it felt like such a strange identity to take on. Not that I otherwise identify so strongly as a daughter, sister, or wife, but that I wasn't quite ready to take on the label of "mother" or "mom".

 
Maybe I feel too young, or just unqualified for the title. It's like suddenly being asked to be a manager at work. Not a project manager, a people manager! A significant step up in responsibility after years of just being an individual contributor. Are you sure you want people to rely on me? Get instruction and direction from me? Be accountable and responsible to me?

There's a particular sense of freedom when you're only responsible for yourself. Certainly this changes when you get married, but in biblical terms, two become one. So, still in a sense, responsible for one. 

A child though, is an addition.

03.12.2025