Category Archives: Love

“Hot? Hot?”

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I was reading about early childhood development and how by the age of 18 months, children should be able to differentiate “hot” vs. “cold.” But I suppose that’s really only going to be the case if your child is actually exposed to something hot or cold and can compare and contrast the two. Usually, we serve Kaia’s food lukewarm in case it may be too hot for her to handle. But a couple months ago, I thought I would warm it a few extra seconds longer just to have her exposed to warmer foods. It went a little something like this:

I put the slightly warmer food in front of her, and I said, “Kaia, this is hot. Be careful. Wait a bit.”

She touched it and then flinched, realizing it was a higher temperature than she’s used to touching. I said, “Hot! Hot!” a couple more times, and then she realized she had to wait to allow the food to cool before touching and trying to eat it again.

Ever since then, she knows that when we warn her that food is hot, she has to wait to let it cool. Sometimes, she will hesitate to even touch the food when we put it in front of her, first having a quizzical look on her face and asking us, “Hot? Hot?” before she proceeds to dig in. My baby is learning by leaps and bounds.

An ode to Ammachy

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This past Sunday, we learned that Ammachy, Chris’s maternal grandma, passed away. She was widowed quite early on in her marriage and had three daughters she ended up raising on her own. She worked hard and made sure they had a good childhood, and they all went on to do relatively well in their respective careers and lives. Because she lived in India and never actually moved to Australia, Chris spent less time with her than he did with his paternal grandma. I had seen her on a number of occasions when she’d be in Australia during Christmas time, and Chris and I also went to visit her in the summer of 2018 during our India trip. She was always soft-spoken and thoughtful, and there was never a time when she was not reading a book (always in extra big print because of her vision problem). We were really looking forward to going to India this summer to visit her and finally have her meet Kaia. I really was excited for her to see Kaia, her second great grandchild, and have them interact with each other, but unfortunately, it was not meant to be. Our India trip this summer will now be a bit different than how we had hoped and envisioned.

Although Ammachy has passed, I still think it’s amazing that Chris got to see both his grandmothers live well into his late 30s/early 40s. While it’s sad that she is now gone, it’s comforting to know that she lived a good, full, long life and had many people who loved her and will always remember her.

Two years since we lost our friend

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When we found out our friend Raj passed away due to seizures of a still-unknown cause, we were beyond shocked. I felt sick to my stomach for more than a day, especially knowing that his son had just been born a couple weeks ago, and his wife was still recovering from childbirth and breastfeeding. To this day, Raj is one of the most kind-hearted, gentle, warm, gregarious humans I have ever known. If there is one person who seemed to always, always assume the very best intentions of anyone, it would definitely have been him. Two years after death, his wife is still struggling to fully accept he is gone, but his spirit still lives on through her and their son, now over two years old.

Raj’s death was also shocking and scary to me because when we found out he had died in 2021, it was shortly after I found out I was pregnant. At that time, I was pregnant with twins. That week, one of the twins “vanished” (vanishing twin syndrome), and I went through my own downward spiral that was separate from Raj’s death. I thought about how Raj and his wife had brought this tiny human into the world, thinking they’d raise him and any future children together, but instead, so soon after their baby was born, the baby’s dad died, and mom would be left alone without a life partner to help. Raj would never be able to experience the joy of watching his son grow up. And I thought about how absolutely devastating that was and how petrifying it would be for me if I were in the same situation.

I think about Raj all the time. But when I think of him, I still realize that in his short life, he probably lived a much fuller one than those double his age because of his positive outlook and all-around warmth and kindness. It would be hard to imagine anyone knowing him who did not like him or appreciate how good of a human he was. We could all benefit from trying to embody a little Raj in our own lives.

Our baby loves her nanny

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A year ago, on Good Friday 2022, our current nanny did her trial day with us. Back then, my little Pookster was just over four months old, responsive and bubbly, with chunky cheeks and stubby little hands that were always trying to grab everything. It’s amazing what transpires in a year and how much my little baby grew and evolved. Now, she’s walking (well, while pushing her walker) and trying to get those hands, no longer stubby, into all our drawers and cabinets. Her curiosity knows no bounds, as she’s curious not just with people and places, but also with new foods, which, fingers crossed, we hope continues. She’s saying endless words now, and even repeating things that well, perhaps she should not be saying. Her dad keeps applauding her for the 100th time that she’s proudly exclaimed, “Oh, shit!”

Kaia loves spending time with her nanny. Our nanny makes her smile and giggle, and every morning she comes in, I know Kaia is excited to see her just from the big grin on her face and how her eyes light up. I am grateful we found a nanny who has not only been reliable and trustworthy, but also genuinely loves and cares for our daughter. Not every family is as lucky in the nanny/caregiver world as we have been. Almost every week in local parenting groups on social media, I see parents posting about the nanny that accepted an offer but never showed up on the first day; a nanny who suddenly gave her notice but didn’t come back to finish her final weeks as promised; a nanny who steals the most random things from the parents’ home (the dumbest thing I read was the nanny who stole some expensive sponges… wow). I shudder every time I read these. Our nanny is part of the mini-village we have created, in a world where the “village” doesn’t really exist much anymore. It’s been sweet to watch the relationship between our nanny and Pookster grow. We have definitely gotten lucky with our nanny.

“All done!”

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Kaia absolutely adores her books. It makes me so happy to watch her sort through her books, turn the pages, and demand that we read her a selected book by pulling one off the shelf and handing it over to us with expectant puppy dog eyes. It does not always make me happy to watch her attempt to destroy her books with regular paper pages or try to disassemble the pull-out features of her more interactive books, but I suppose that’s just part of her learning process.

Last night, Kaia did her usual routine. She knew it was bedtime, so as soon as she finished her milk, we got into her room and she selected a book for me to read. She handed it over to me to read. We went through the book, funny voices and all, and when we finished, she wasn’t quite done; she closed the book, then pushed it into my lap. She was trying to indicate that she wanted to go through the book again. So I told her we’d go through the book again one more time. When we got halfway through the book, she immediately grabbed it, closed it shut, and then declared, “all done!”

My little baby is growing by leaps and bounds. I just can’t believe it sometimes. Sometimes, I still just stare at her face in wonderment and think about how thankful I am that she is here. My sweet miracle baby is life’s most precious gift to me.

The magic of Ms. Rachel

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A number of mothers have let me know the magic that Ms. Rachel from YouTube has worked on their young babies. Ms. Rachel has encouraged babies to clap, make hand signals, wave byeybye, and say words and phrases. There’s a lot of skepticism around whether any of this is actually effective, but I’d say that if it gets your baby to actually say and do new things that they hadn’t done before, then it’s a win. I’m careful with how much I let Kaia play with our phones and be exposed to screens, so I don’t want her watching anything endlessly. So over the last two days, I let her watch Ms. Rachel three times, in 10-minute increments. She seems to light up and giggle a bit when she sees Ms. Rachel’s face and hears her really high pitched voice. During just 30 minutes of watching Ms. Rachel, Kaia had already repeated “keys,” “got it,” and tried to do different finger movements to follow Ms. Rachel as she sang and used her fingers to show “itsy bitsy spider.” Very quickly, I was impressed and in slight awe. This was really working!

My highly verbal baby

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Since Kaia was quite young, she had already started her babble. She babbled earlier than the baby guides said she would, and since Australia, she’s been mimicking lots of sounds and words that we say. It’s unclear which she actually knows the meanings of, but it’s so adorable to see and hear her try to say certain things. The other morning, I told her that she’d have some Weetbix for breakfast, and she had a big smile on her face while saying over and over, “wee bih, wee bih!” She often repeats, “hey,” “byebye,” “baby,” and of course, “no!” One of the latest things she has been saying on repeat, which I have no idea what she is referring to, is “bobby! bobby!”

I can’t believe my baby is already over 14 months old. Sometimes, I still can’t believe we got so lucky with her. She is my sweet little blessing.

14 months of pumping: a pumping mama’s reflection

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1,430.83 hours 

59.62 days 

225.07 litres

59.46 gallons 

That’s a lot of time being spent attached to an electric nipple sucker. I still can’t believe I produced that much milk. My husband still calls me an udder. 

Whoever said breastfeeding was easy either a) has never done it or b) got really, really lucky with it. I was not so lucky with nursing despite reading all the possible sources about it while pregnant, taking an online course about it, and naively thinking I was super prepared. I had a useless lactation consultant at the hospital, an arguably even more incompetent and toxic one at my baby’s pediatrician’s office who just assumed I naturally had low supply (the woman shaming truly never ends…).

When I became a new mother, I had no idea people “exclusively pumped” breast milk to feed their babies. I thought they only did this when they were nursing and were separated from their babies. I had no idea “EPing” as it’s called became a “thing” historically because women who had babies in the NICU who wanted to breastfeed started doing it, and these babies, either because of their size or condition, could not latch or suck properly to eat adequately and help mama build and maintain milk supply. I didn’t know my own baby had a “weak suck” until my pediatrician, of all people,  called it out at her 1-month check-up. All I knew from my useless breastfeeding articles and virtual course was to focus on the latch! Latch! That’s all they talked about! WHY DID NO ONE WARN ME ABOUT A WEAK SUCK?! So after a week, my baby’s weight was the same; she wasn’t gaining. In my super hormonal postpartum state, I actually thought my breast milk was poisoning her. So I went down the miserable road of “triple feeding” (nursing, bottle feeding pumped milk or formula to “top up” baby, and then pumping) – every three hours, around the clock – for the next three weeks.

My baby’s suck never improved. So I turned to exclusive pumping, or at least the pumping schedule of someone who DOES exclusively pump. I still nursed baby regularly, if just for comfort and bonding, up until about 5 months, then finally just stopped. I had to let go of my fantasy of being a nursing mom and really sit in my reality: I was actually an exclusive pumper. 

Due to having nearly two weeks without proper milk removal, I was late to catch up in building my milk supply. So I had to find a way to compensate and do it as quickly as possible. That’s when I turned to power pumping (#iykyk), as miserable and time-consuming as it was on top of already pumping 7 times a day. I power pumped at least once a day for two months. I drank endless amounts of water, ate all the oatmeal. I went through many resentful, teary moments, mostly in the middle of the night pumping, wondering why it felt like I spent more time with my breast pump than my own baby I was pumping for. My entire life revolved around pumping. It took me until about 3.5 months to be fully comfortable and in my routine with it. At around 4 months, I made peace with pumping and figured that although I didn’t choose to pump, my pump ultimately chose me. This was my destiny and how I was meant to feed my Kaia Pookie.

I pumped 7 times a day until 3 months; 6 times a day until just shy of 4 months, 5 times a day from 4 to 6 months; then 4 times a day until 11 months. Even after reducing PPD (pumps per day), my supply miraculously just KEPT on going up. At 11 months, I went down to 3PPD, then at 12 months, 2PPD. Shortly before 13 months, my Spectra S1 Plus pump died while traveling, and so I luckily was saved by a local mom’s group, where moms were happy to loan their pumps to me during my stay in Southern California. I will always be grateful for the selfless, generous support I got from that one mother in Fountain Valley, California. But when I came back to New York, Spectra had shipped my replacement pump late, so I had to use my Baby Buddha pump as a backup. Unfortunately, that pump just didn’t jive as well with me since my body was so used to the Spectra, so my supply depleted really quickly. It was then that I knew I had to end my journey at around 14 months.

I pumped in five different US states, three Australian states, and four countries. I have pumped at home, in my company’s mothers’ room (just a handful of times since I’m lucky to work from home), in cars, trains, planes, airport lounges, hotels, hotel lobbies, restaurants, at wineries, in multiple friends’/families’ homes. And don’t even get me started on how many times I had to constantly wash all my pump parts!! Yet somehow, some way, I made it to 14 months of pumping. 

Exclusive pumping is the hardest, most challenging thing I’ve literally ever done in my life. It was more emotionally, mentally, and physically intense than anything, even labor and child birth. And while I do feel liberated that my pumping journey has now come to an end, it is actually bittersweet; I have loved knowing that my body has provided the majority of my baby’s nourishment in her first 14 months of life; I say it repeatedly, but I mean every word of it. At the end, I got to 84.3% lifetime breast milk for Kaia. The haters above never would have guessed that. Pumping to feed my baby gave me a deep sense of purpose, like I was actually doing something that truly mattered. The saying is true: I didn’t love pumping, but I pumped because I love. I am proud of this journey my baby has allowed me to go on. During this journey, I truly came to understand and live the meanings of “perseverance” and “patience,” as no one’s milk supply increases dramatically overnight.

Do I wish I successfully nursed my baby? Yes. Do I wish I had better in-person support for overall breastfeeding? Of course. But I am thankful for my breastfeeding journey, the amazing support I had from Andrea Ramirez, the Cleo lactation consultant from The Latched Life who encouraged me, helped me identify I had “elastic nipples” (yeah, because how does a first-time mother figure THAT one out?!), and gave me the emotional support and empathy I really needed to continue my breastfeeding journey, but perhaps not in the exact way I had originally envisioned; my night nurses who kept cheering me on (one of them repeatedly said to me, “Everything has its time, and then it ends. Cherish it and be proud of what you are doing for your baby!”), my friends who encouraged me, and of course, my loving and supportive husband Chris, the best bottle feeder I know who is planning a mini blog series that details ALL the data behind feeding and raising our now 14-month old Kaia Pookie. 

And that’s a wrap for my breastfeeding / pumping journey. It was a wild ride, but one I’ll always be grateful for.

A cold afternoon spent in the play room

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It was in the single digits Fahrenheit today, so we had zero interest in even leaving the building today. I spent the morning making pho ga (chicken pho), and in the afternoon after lunch, I took Kaia down to the play room for some change of scenery, as well as to hopefully interact with some other kids who would come. When we first arrived, no one was there. But eventually, four kids and their moms arrived, and then a dad and his young son, who happened to be just one month older than Kaia. We exchanged names and apartment numbers, and then Kaia and Georgie slowly sized each other up. They kept staring at each other from afar and gradually walked and crawled closer to each other. It was clear they wanted to interact, but they were just figuring out the best way to do this. The dad warned me that his son could get a little aggressive, so he kept warning Georgie to be nice and gentle. And then, out of nowhere, as Georgie reached his hand out for Kaia, he whacked her straight on her forehead.

And with that, my Kaia Pookie started wailing and crying, burying her head into my chest and refused to look up.

The dad immediately freaked out, apologized, and thought I was going to get mad, but how could I? I just laughed it off. They’re just babies, I said to him. Don’t worry about it! They don’t know what they’re doing, and the boy is likely just testing his boundaries. After a quick cry and some cuddles, I placed Kaia on the mat next to Georgie, and they eventually started handing toys to each other and playing with trucks together. And it was really sweet to watch them interact, especially after that slightly rough start.

Honestly, though, I really wish Kaia had whacked him back and shown him who’s boss. I can’t have my baby getting picked on when I am not there…

Building a family in an unconventional way

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Every couple of weeks, I quickly scroll through parenting groups I belong to on Facebook, and each time, there is inevitably at least one or two posts asking for night nurse requests/references. And because these posts are SO frequent, I have a little blurb about the two night nurses we hired, their contact information, and how we’d recommend them on my phone so I can just copy and paste the same thing (people do not like to use the “search” function in groups on Facebook, apparently). Well, earlier this week, someone direct messaged me on Facebook to ask if I could speak to him about the night nurses and our experiences with them, so I decided to chat with him today.

He introduced himself and his situation as being “different:” he and his partner are in a gay marriage, and they are currently expecting twins, a boy and a girl, through a surrogate. It would be their first children, they have no family nearby, and are looking for support. Initially I thought… None of this sounded that odd to me; I hear situations like this all the time in liberal cities like San Francisco, Boston, and New York. But what was actually different was how they are starting their family: the babies are both biologically theirs. How is that possible? I thought. Well, this man’s sister did IVF to extract her eggs to then fertilize with his partner’s sperm. So while the children did not come from his sperm, they are technically related to him.

That totally blew my mind. And what a selfless person this man’s sister is to go through the headache and volatility that is IVF stimulation and egg retrieval, all so that her brother could have a child that is still blood related to him. WOW.

And to add to that, the surrogate is this man’s best friend, who lives in Oregon. She will be moving in with them two months before the due date to labor and give birth to the babies here in New York. She also plans to pump milk for the babies… and even freeze and ship it to them every week!

As a pumping mama myself, that completely made me in awe of this friend. That’s a really, really good friend! I made sure to spend a few minutes letting this man know that pumping is NOT for the faint of heart, coming from someone who exclusively pumps, so I hope he realizes the sacrifices his friend is making to do this for his children. I also silently hoped he and his partner are compensating her appropriately for that effort. I’d even say in some ways… pumping is more effort and toil than pregnancy and labor!