Category Archives: family

Coming home with the baby brings anxiety

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I’m planning to come back to San Francisco at the end of August since I have a work offsite planned, and Chris and the baby are coming with me. It will be an opportunity for me to not only go for work and meet my colleagues in person for the very first time, but it will also be the first time my family will be meeting the baby. For our sanity’s sake, we’re only spending the weekends at my parents’, while spending time at the hotel that will be expensed during the weekdays since I’m in town for work. My mom called today, so I told her we were planning to go home since I have a work offsite planned. When she asked me how long, and I told her it would be just over a week, of course, she got upset.

“Yvonne, why is it so short?” she said, in her usual annoyed tone. “Why can’t you just work here and stay here longer, and I’ll take care of the baby? You should stay at least a month. Why don’t you think about me?”

It’s always about her.

My mom is delusional. She always forgets how miserable we are together when we are in the same place for longer than 3-4 days and all the fights. She has short term memory. She always imagines everything to be flowery when it is not. Also, has she completely forgotten that she herself said she isn’t even strong enough to hold the baby while standing up? She can’t even hold a coffee mug without spilling it all over the carpet at home. I reminded her this, and she responded, “Well, I can try.”

“No,” I responded sternly. “You can’t ‘try’ to hold and take care of the baby. You either do it or you don’t, and you won’t. Taking care of a baby is work, and you can’t do it.”

She wasn’t happy I said this, but I wasn’t saying any of this to make her happy. I don’t trust her being with the baby alone given all her outdated recommendations (e.g. “why doesn’t the baby sleep with a blanket?”), not to mention her lack of strength with her arms and back. I just need to try my best to be emotionally detached, being calm, managing the conversation at hand and not engaging. I’m already getting anxiety about being home, and this trip feels like it’s going to be more work than actual pleasure already.

When handing down baby items brings sadness

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A friend of mine is having a baby in a few weeks, and we offered to give our handed down bassinet to him and his wife since it’s still in great condition. Since Kaia has already transitioned into her crib as of mid-June, I told him that the bassinet would be ready to pick up anytime now. I had already washed the mattress pad cover and cleaned the bassinet after Chris took it apart. But because we’re used to the music attachment on the bassinet, we’ve still been using it at bedtime to put Kaia to sleep. Granted, it’s a bit redundant given we already have the Hatch sound machine playing soothing water sounds, but we partially just turn it on out of habit.

As I cleaned all the bassinet parts, I felt so sad to think that last night would be the last night we’d play the bassinet music for Kaia. We had many, many nights of playing this same music to soothe her to sleep, so there’s some nostalgia attached to this music maker and bassinet. This bassinet was the first place she slept in, the only bed she slept in outside of the hospital and one hotel for the first six months of her life. I obviously would be crazy to keep the music just to remember those bittersweet early days, and I know I have to give this away to hand off to my friend, but it still makes me sad and wistful. My baby is getting so big so quickly. She’s no longer a newborn. She’s a growing baby, and soon before I know it, she’ll be a toddler and then a little girl running around everywhere. The newborn phase was really hard, no doubt, but I can’t believe it’s already over.

So as ridiculous as it sounds, I was a little happy when my friend said he couldn’t come to pick up the bassinet today and would come on Friday instead. Well, I guess that’s at least three more nights of Kaia.. or well, myself, enjoying and reminiscing with this music.

What goes in… must come out

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It’s been about 16 days of introducing Kaia to solid foods now. It’s been both exciting and scary to introduce her to regular food. I obviously want her to have a very varied and diverse palate, but at the same time, I am cognizant in the back of my mind of how prevalent food allergies are today, not to mention the potential choking risks, and so I’ve tried my best to be calm and not overly aggressive in the baby-led weaning process. So far, it seems like her favorites include peanut butter, oats, and broccoli. She’s really enjoyed the pineapple this week, as well.

Well, what goes in… must come out. As I’ve read, it’s never quite clear how much she’s really eaten. It’s easier to track with purees than with the baby led weaning process of whole foods. But… If there were any doubts as to what she was actually consuming versus just playing with and sucking, they all dissipated when I changed her poop diaper last night. As soon as I opened the diaper, not only did I notice that her bowel movement is a lot more solid and less loose, but also… the smell. Oh my goodness, the smell! It smelled like an actual adult poop! She’s genuinely getting her solids in! On top of that, she had many, many farts in the lead up to her diaper change, and I can say, without a doubt… there was NO surprise she ate asparagus earlier in the day. There were a lot of stinky farts that had a tinge of asparagus odor to them!

“Once they start solids, the diaper changes will be changed forever!” my friend warned me. “You thought breast milk or formula poop smelled? That was nothing compared to solids poop! It’s basically like OUR poop now!”

“When will I see you again?”

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Chris’s parents left for the airport at midday today, so I asked the nanny to stay with the baby until they left so that they could say goodbyes and get some cuddles in before their flight. I know they’re both sad to be leaving, knowing that Kaia will be growing and developing by leaps and bounds between now and the next time they see her, which will hopefully be at the end of this year. And honestly, it made me sad, too, as the days wound down and we approached today, to know that they were leaving. I really enjoyed having them here and seeing them enjoy cuddles and quality time with their granddaughter.

After the Uber left, the nanny took Kaia to Riverside Park, and I went back upstairs to get my pump set up, and my eyes just welled up. I thought about how happy Kaia was to be with her grandma and grandpa, and how quickly time flies and how all that time will be spent apart. I thought about how outside of Chris and me, Kaia really has no family nearby to love and care for her unconditionally, and that suddenly made me feel so lonely for her. I don’t want my daughter to be alone or feel alone. I want her to be surrounded by people who adore her. And those people who love and adore her and have spent so much happy and loving time with her in the last few weeks are now leaving. How much will she really know them or care for them with the distance between them? How much will she understand them, or they understand her? How much of a relationship will they really share? I’m not sure. I can already imagine her a little older, able to speak, asking them, “When will I see you again?” And I can already imagine myself tearing up at the question.

I’ve never really cried or gotten upset when Chris’s parents have left before. Of course, in past visits, I’ve been a little sad once they’ve left since they bring so much happy, positive energy to our home every time they are here. I mean, seriously… these are people who get excited over a simple, all-natural bar of soap that suds well to the point that they rave about it and then go back to Whole Foods two hours before departing for the airport just to get more! They genuinely appreciate the simple things in life that the rest of us take for granted. But this time, it’s different with Kaia here. I just had that sad, sinking feeling in my stomach when I stood at the kitchen counter, alone with my pump, after they were all gone. It’s different because Kaia’s presence is also a reminder to them and to me that they’re getting older; we’re all getting older. At some point, they may not be able bodied enough to visit us on this long-haul flight. They don’t even have access to health coverage while here, and in an emergency if they needed it, it would cost a fortune (which is supposedly covered by their credit card, but who the hell knows how much would really be covered?!).

On the other hand, I guess I also mourn my own relationship with my own parents, and Kaia’s soon-to-be relationship or lack thereof with them. As my therapist frequently told me before I ended sessions with her before Kaia’s arrival, it’s okay to be sad for what you wish you had but don’t have. As we all know, we cannot control our parents or our relationships with them. They are what they are to a large extent, especially when we’re talking about people who are just flat out unstable. It’s okay to wish you had a relationship with your parents that never existed. It’s okay to feel envious of Chris’s parents, but also be aware that you still get to enjoy them as in-laws.

It is what it is. We cannot control everything. But it also makes me wonder sometimes… what am I really living for? Sometimes, I’m not even sure what my end goal is.

Last night with the grandparents

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Today is Chris’s parents’ last full day in New York with us before they leave to go back home. It’s sad to think that their month-plus long trip to the US has already come and gone so quickly. Every day as I get older, time seems to fly faster and faster, and I always feel like I want to hit a pause button just to relish the seconds and minutes a little longer. I’m even more cognizant of this now with little Kaia, seeming to grow more rapidly as each day passes.

I was sitting on the couch this evening, listening to Chris and his parents banter back and forth about healthcare in Australia and its pros and cons, and comparing this to the healthcare situation here in the U.S. and how dismal it is. And as I was listening to this half discussion, half debate, my mind went back to thinking about my own parents and our lack of ability to have even half of a discussion like this in a productive way. Chris’s parents will happily sit there and talk about why lamb is embraced in Western China but not in Eastern China. They will talk about the evolution of language and why different languages are spoken across China and India and how that came to be. My parents? We can’t really have many intelligent or productive conversations about almost anything. All our conversations are mundane, gossipy (usually because my mom brings up something inane), or about the everyday like eating or work or the baby, or flat out arguments or lectures. And even those everyday conversations are frustrating because my mom always comes at it from the angle that she knows everything because she has more wisdom than I do, and therefore I need to listen to her, otherwise “You will face consequences… because kids who are disobedient to their parents will be punished by Jehovah.” That was a constant threat and admonishment that Ed and I heard over and over from the time my mom started studying to be a Jehovah’s Witness since my freshman year in high school.

It’s not nice to compare, but it’s only natural to compare because for the longest time, I just thought the way my parents were would be how EVERYONE’S parents would be. Because you only know what you know, right? And as I gradually started making more friends and meeting other people and their families, plus interacting with those family members, I realized that I was in an unhealthy situation with mentally unstable, paranoid, and immature parents, and not everyone else had the same situation.

I want my baby to have a happy, healthy relationship with Chris and me and all her family members. I want her to know and love them, and know that we all love her unconditionally. But honestly, I have no idea what kind of relationship, if any, she will have with my parents.

Another U.S. Independence Day in the US of A

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Although we had gotten accustomed to leaving the US and mostly being in Asia most 4th of Julys in the past, once the pandemic hit, we didn’t really have much of a choice and had to be here. In 2020, we were in the Lower East Side and East Village. In 2021, I was grateful to be pregnant and traveling in Houston. This year, Chris’s parents are with us here in New York to spend time with the baby and us, and we went up to the Bronx to see Villa Charlotte Bronte and enjoy tapas.

We tried to put Kaia to sleep before heading up to the roof to watch the fireworks, but we could see from our video monitor via the phone app that she was getting fussy in her crib, likely getting “FOMO” and the sixth sense that we all had abandoned her. So Chris went downstairs to get her and bring her up to the roof with us, which made her happy and want to jump up and down in his arms as she wiggled about.

It was Kaia’s first 4th of July outside of the uterus. This 4th of July wasn’t that exciting or much of a day to celebrate considering all the disgusting Supreme Court rulings of the previous weeks, though. I have no idea how long we can continue to stay in this country with its regressive laws and backwards thinking. But one thing to celebrate is that Kaia is here, safe and healthy and happy, and we got to spend the day with her grandparents altogether as a family.

When your dad-in-law wants to learn about pumping milk

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Whenever I’ve shared with colleagues or distant friends that my in-laws are going to visit or are in town, their initial reaction is always one of “ugh” or “poor you.” But I always end up correcting them and telling them that I love my in-laws, that they are fun and enjoyable to be with, that they are kind, genuinely good people who seem to at least try to see the best in everything and everyone. I always look forward to their visits, I look forward to our visits to Australia to see them, and I always inevitably feel sad when their visit is coming to an end.

I wasn’t sure how they would react to my pumping schedule or the fact that I spend four hours a day connected to an electric nipple sucker, but they never reacted negatively to any of the pumping or the fact that my nipples were out all the time, regardless of whether I was sitting there talking to them or cutting fruit or playing with the baby. They just took it all in stride. Chris’s mom asked questions about my schedule, how often and for how long I pumped, when I planned to wean off of pumping, and that was really it. After the first couple of days, it just seemed to be a normal thing they saw and it was just as everyday as seeing someone put on their jacket. In fact, Chris’s dad was so curious to understand how it all worked that he actually asked me about my different pump settings, what they did and meant, how I changed the settings and when, and whether the pump actually hurt me. These were all unexpected questions, but I found it sweet and endearing that he had the curiosity and courage to ask.

It’s why I love having my in-laws around. They are genuinely kind, loving, supportive, amazing people. I’ve never felt judged or insulted or upset by pretty much anything they’ve ever done. They are so well meaning, perhaps even to a fault. Chris’s mom preemptively even apologizes for things she overthinks that could have been offensive but were never actually offensive!

Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents – the book

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Since Kaia was born, I haven’t had much time or energy to read any books. I figured it would be temporary and that eventually, I would start reading again since I’ve always been a reader. Only recently have I started listening to podcasts again, and though I’ve attempted to sit down to open a book, it hasn’t really worked out. Part of me doesn’t want to spend time reading when I could be spending it playing with and watching my baby grow. Every day she’s growing so quickly and doing new things, and the idea of missing out on something new she does always makes me a bit sad.

Well, I had a book I was waitlisted for via the NYPL / Libby app since last summer that I finally got off the wait list for, and it was a book that I read about called Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents: How to Heal from Distant, Rejecting, or Self-Involved Parents. I think it got mentioned in one of the parenting groups I’m in because a parent was really scared about repeating the same mistakes of her parents. I think one part of how to tackle this is first beginning with self awareness, recognizing that not everything your parents did was “right” or what you want for your own kids, and having checks in place to ensure you do not repeat the same behavior. With parents of the previous generation, a lot of growing up was just about survival, especially if you were the child of immigrants who were just trying to keep the roof over their heads and food on the table. They didn’t have the time or energy for self reflection on how they could do better than their own parents; they focused simply on the physical aspects of shelter and food.

I started reading this book. A lot of the examples provided are very much centered on the white family experience, but I can see how it could be adjusted slightly to account for cultural differences. At the end of the day, I believe that the majority of parents try their hardest to raise their children to the best of their ability. But many do not think about what they could improve, and instead raise their kids how they themselves were raised. I think that’s what my dad did: his parents worked all the time, so they never had the time to teach him anything, so he took it upon himself to learn everything he knew. That’s why he had no patience to teach Ed or me even the simplest things, like how to tie our shoes or ride a bike, or the more complex, like changing oil on a car or driving. He just expected us to learn on our own. He communicated mostly by yelling; that’s what his parents did with him. His parents criticized him constantly; that’s what he did to Ed and me. He knew no different, so he did the same with us and perceived that as “normal.” My mom got disregarded completely as the 10th and last child of her mom. She experienced zero affection or love from her mom. She tried to learn from that and showered me with love and affection, but alas, it ended up becoming more suffocating than anything. So while I get frustrated with both my parents, I recognize that they were just limited by the experiences they had, and they thus lacked the emotional maturity to improve how they parented. But because they are emotionally immature, they will never recognize or admit their faults. The book also describes how children of emotionally immature parents tend to have a higher level of compassion and empathy. I guess that’s one way Ed and I benefited from having unrealistic and immature parents.

The book gets redundant with its examples, though, and it doesn’t give much in the way of coping mechanisms. I thought the whole point of the book was to help identify toxic behavior and then address how to deal with it all and live a healthy and happy adult life?

When grandparents are the primary caretakers

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This week, since our nanny is away in Jamaica for the next two weeks, we have Chris’s parents watching and caring for Kaia during the day while Chris and I work. Since I work from home, I can still help with things like diaper changes and bottle cleaning, so they are primarily responsible for taking her outside (they took her to the play gym yesterday), feeding, and entertaining her. She seems to have adapted to them well; she even likes keeping them company on the bed after she has completely worn them out while they take little naps there. It’s pretty hilarious to watch.

And for the first time yesterday, Chris’s dad actually bottle fed a baby — our baby. According to Chris’s mother, their dad had never even bottle fed either Chris or his brother even once when they were babies, so this was the very first time he’d done a baby feeding. Granted, Chris’s mom burped Kaia, but this was still kind of a big deal. I texted Chris’s brother to let him know, and he was incredulous. “That would be a first!” he exclaimed in response. In fact, Chris’s parents were arguing over who was going to feed Kaia next at her upcoming feed! It was both cute and hilarious to witness.

When your baby doesn’t want mama’s boobs anymore

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Since our night nurse stopped working with us at around the three-month mark, I’ve been putting Kaia to bed every night after Chris feeds her. Our usual routine is he will feed and burp her, then hand her off to me in the bedroom so I can cuddle and sing to her, nurse her (for comfort), and then she’ll pass out, and I’ll put her into the bassinet asleep. I’ve always looked forward to this quiet time every night together. Even though I’d made peace with the fact that she wasn’t getting nourished directly from my breasts, I still found comfort and love in the fact that she still wanted my boobs for comfort and security. So in the last week, when I’ve attempted to give her a breast before bed and she’s gotten fussy, I’ve been a bit taken aback and wondering if our nursing time together would be coming to an abrupt end.

It initially started with her rejecting my breast and yelping. Then I’d sing to her to calm her down, and then as she’d get more tired, she’d grab my breast to suckle and then pass out. That’s been going on in the last week. But in the last few days, she just wants nothing to do with my breasts. As soon as I whip out the boob and stick it in her face, she either turns away or starts to yell, indicating she doesn’t want it. It honestly hurt my heart. She was essentially rejecting me, and it didn’t make me feel good. I felt a sinking sensation in my stomach when she rejected my breast tonight, and I wondered if this was really the end. I always imagined comfort nursing her until at least one year, even if I couldn’t nurse her for actual food. But that may have been too idealistic of a fantasy on my part.

My baby’s getting bigger, I keep telling myself. She’s growing up. Soon, she won’t be a baby anymore. She’s not going to want her mama’s boobs once she’s a toddler anymore. And those are all normal things with normal child development. But it doesn’t mean that I feel nothing when all these changes happen. I still get emotional thinking how quickly she is growing and how she needs me a tiny bit less each and every day. Today, she won’t want my boobs anymore. Tomorrow, she may not want cuddles. And the next day, she’ll be running off with her friends and not wanting to spend time with me. Life moves forward.