I'm Back (and with a three month old!)

Hi! I’m back. I took an unexpected break from writing because, honestly, new motherhood and breastfeeding was quite overwhelming. And for a while there, I felt less than for admitting that.

Introducing Cora Catherine, aka C.C. She is named and nicknamed after my mom. Catherine being her middle name, which was my mom’s name and C.C. after Cak Cak, which is what my niece and nephew called my mom instead of Grandmom. My mom said she was too young and too cool to be called Grandmom . She said “call me Cathy” and somehow Cak Cak was invented.

The past three months with C.C. have been nothing short of amazing. I don’t think I’ll ever stop staring at her in awe that she’s here! She’s mine! I have a daughter! I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t struggling though. Having a baby after experiencing so much loss, surprisingly, does not erase the pain (no matter how many times my therapist tried to tell me that!) Also, postpartum depression and anxiety are very real, which I knew already and somehow it still took me by surprise.

Breastfeeding is HARD, but so rewarding. I said to my sister that it’s the most challenging thing I’ve done physically and emotionally, and that’s saying a lot because I willingly trained for a marathon. This is just another thing I’ll add to the list of things women don’t talk about because we’re meant to just grin and bear it. I’d also be lying if I said I haven’t been a ball full of anxiety. I thought once C.C. was here, the worrying would stop. Because of infertility and miscarrying the twins, I spent my entire pregnancy in fear. I tried to enjoy the moments as much as possible but I also took the greatest precautions - I didn’t get my hair done, I stayed away from nail salons, I stopped running or working out, I declined seeing any friends or family (with the exception of my dad at Sunday mass) because of the risk of Covid. I stayed away from the normal lunch meat and cheeses, but also steered clear of soft serve ice cream and any sort of salad or seafood. I traded my whitening toothpaste for natural toothpaste sans fluoride. I switched my creams to ones with all natural ingredients. I stopped wearing makeup. The list goes on and on. I had panic attacks daily if I felt like I did something “wrong.”

When C.C. was born, she was only 5lbs, 6.8 oz and all of the doctors asked me if I had complications given she was SGA (small for gestational age). I had a range of emotions when it came to this. First up was anger. Anger that I still had to worry. I thought that after everything I had been through, I’d be given a break. Next in line was resentment. Resentment that despite doing everything “right” and being so cautious, there was still so much fear. And resentment that other women breeze through their pregnancies without a worry and then have babies that are a “normal” weight. Finally there was relief. Relief that she was here. She made it. We made it.

You see, with everything I’ve been through recently - with my mom, infertility, and more loss - my rose colored glasses came off and I understood the harsh reality that anything could go wrong at any moment, and rather than hope for the best, my mind was always preparing for the worst. I never wanted to be caught off guard again like I was when I lost my mom and then miscarried the twins. I wanted to be prepared for that sort of pain. But here’s the thing. You can’t train for trauma. It happens and you have to deal with it. You also can’t let that blind you from the blessings in your life. Good and bad can coexist and it can be beautiful, if you allow it. I don’t think I was allowing it, until now, until C.C.

I still worry about her everyday. I still, unfortunately, compare myself to other mothers. I question if I’m doing this breastfeeding thing right. I’m scared about going back to the office next week or having a night out because she’s totally dependent on me for nourishment. I fear I will fail her. I’m scared that, in my exhaustion and anxiety, I’m not fully embracing these little moments, because I know they are fleeting. I know that in a blink of an eye, this stage will be over, and I waited too goddamn long for this to not memorize every single moment.

Do you see a trend here? Pressure. I put so much pressure on myself, but C.C. is teaching me to let go, to follow her lead. I think that’s the beauty of new motherhood and breastfeeding. You really have to let go and let this little person guide you. I’ve also developed a new respect for women and a closeness with friends that I was missing. To be blunt, not having a mom when you have a baby sucks. You grieve all over again, the beautiful life and connection you are missing, not to mention the help. I know my mom would have been a guiding light for me and I don’t have that. She would have also been over my house helping me, and I don’t have that. Am I resentful of other women who have that? Hell yeah and that’s completely fine. I’m allowed to grieve my mom not being here for this.

I’m proud of myself for figuring this out on my own though (with the help of the moms I’ve texted 12442266 questions to!) I proved to myself that I can do this. I can be a mom without my mom or that support. It sucks but I can do it.

In just three years, I lost my mom, dealt with infertility, miscarried twins, and then got pregnant again. The trauma I dealt with made me become numb and, as I worked through this postpartum stage or the “fourth trimester” as it’s often called, I realized I needed to do a better job of taking care of myself. I look in the mirror and I have no idea who the person is staring back at me. I keep thinking I want to get back to the person I was before all of the trauma, before I watched my mom die, before I was told both of my babies heartbeats stopped beating, before my stomach was cut open multiple times. But what I am realizing is that I’ll never be able to get back to that person. That person no longer exists. But I can rebuild and reclaim my new, beautiful life with Henry and Cora.

I’m really struggling with how to do this. I sacrificed my body to constant shots, ultrasounds, and hormones for so long that it no longer feels like my own. I didn’t care about anything else except having a baby that I have no idea how to enjoy these beautiful moments that I have now. It feels like a constant game of make pretend, as if at any moment this is going to be taken away from me.

I know hormones are weird and I’m just riding the expected rollercoaster of emotions but I am always looking to create a community of respect and solidarity. We’re all in this together and can benefit from hearing each other’s stories.

Mom, having C.C. in our lives has been an amazing blessing but I find myself navigating a new layer of grief that is so hard. I am grieving the life we could have had with you in it. The one where you got to be a Cak Cak to her here on earth. Instead I honored you by naming her after you. I know how special that is but it also makes me incredibly sad and a bit angry. Not having you here is so hard. You are starting to feel further away than ever, which surprises me because I thought I would feel a closeness to you once C.C. was here. Is it just too much for me to handle? I hope not because I want to feel you close again. Please show me a sign that you are guiding me through this new stage of life.

I love you infinity.

Love,

Your sweetheart. Xoxo