Roe v. Wade – The Right To Choose

First and foremost, I think it’s actually ridiculous that abortion is still a “controversial” topic in 20 fucking 22. It’s crazy to think that the government can actually have a say in what you choose to do with your life and your body. As a woman, I’m outraged and annoyed that this is still something up for debate. It’s simple – you don’t have to agree with abortions, but it is not anyone’s place to tell a woman what she can and can not do with her own body. Each person is entitled to their own choice, and to take away that choice is unfathomable. For a nation that pride’s itself on being “free” and preaches freedom every opportunity it gets, this is as unconstitutional as it gets.

I grew up in a Catholic household. I attended Catholic school from Kindergarten through 8th grade. I remember being excited to learn about Sex Ed for the first time in 5th grade because it seemed like such a taboo topic that we would finally get to dive into. Since we were a Catholic school, they were so dramatic that each child needed a form signed by a parent stating that it was okay for them to learn about Sex Ed. For those that don’t know, Catholic schools are under the private school category, which means by law, they are not obligated to fulfill any state or national curriculum. According to the California Department of Education, “Private schools select and provide all curriculum, instruction, and instructional materials to students.”

That meant that certain parts of Sex Ed could be removed from the lesson. For the most part, we went over the basic anatomy of the male and female bodies, how a sperm meets and egg, and how conception happens. It was very textbook heavy, and didn’t really go into detail about the act of sex itself, but more so that sex leads to a sperm and an egg meeting in the uterus. I’ll never forget the video we watched for Sex Ed in the 8th grade. It was a documentary of a boy who was the result of a rape. Instead of his mother having an abortion, she chose adoption. Of course, being a Catholic school, it made sense why they were showing pro-life propaganda. However, at the time, I remember thinking how messed up it was to use religion and hell as a guilt trip, especially in the instance of rape. I remember thinking the opposite of their point to show the documentary. I recall thinking how if I was his mother, I wouldn’t want to continue with the pregnancy.

Abortion is so controversial because people can’t separate religion from politics. Other people’s religious beliefs should not play a role in law making. Everyone is entitled to religious-freedom. Believe what you want to believe, worship who you would like to worship, and live by any teachings you think is necessary in this lifetime. However, how you choose to express your religious beliefs should not be forced onto someone else. What a woman chooses to do with her own body has nothing to do with you or your own personal beliefs. Just like how you are entitled to choose what you want to believe in, all women should be entitled to choose what they do with their bodies and lives. This includes terminating a pregnancy if they don’t wish to be pregnant.

The reality is simple. Don’t believe in abortions? Don’t get one. Don’t have a uterus? Shut the fuck up. Think abortion is murder? The blood’s not on your hands or your conscious. That’s what it boils down to, but people want to over complicate it. The problem is that people don’t stay in their own lane. Instead of focusing on themselves and making sure they are living according to their own beliefs, they’re too busy making someone else’s life decisions their problem. All one can really do is make sure that they are making their own decisions based on what they believe and feel to be the right choice for themselves. The women that are actually pregnant know their circumstances better than any outsider that tries to tell them otherwise. Any decision they make regarding a baby growing inside their body should be entirely up to them, not the state.

What a woman chooses to do with her life and body is entirely up to her, whether people agree with her decision or not. And it should stay that way. No law should force a woman to keep a pregnancy she does not want, can’t afford, or is not ready for. Whatever the reason may be for why a woman wants to terminate a pregnancy is honestly nobody’s business. Other people’s beliefs, religion, and personal biases should never be the reason why women lose their right to choose. To those that are in favor of Roe v. Wade being overturned, I have this to say: Others do not have to believe the same things as you, worship the same God as you, or even have the same perspective in life as you. And it’s not your job to try to change their minds. So it’s actually really simple, if you don’t believe in abortions, don’t fucking get one. A woman is just as entitled to terminate a pregnancy as another woman is entitled to keep hers. Everyone should have the authority to choose for themselves.

There are some people that are entirely against abortions in every unfortunate scenario possible. To some pro-lifers, it doesn’t matter if the mother was raped, if their health is in danger, if the baby is a product of abuse or incest, if the mother’s not ready, not financially stable, or not in the position to care for a child. In this instance, the stance is that an unborn, unaware, unconscious life is worth more than a living, self-aware, cognizant being. The embryotic baby who has never experienced life outside of the womb has more rights than you and I. It seems like so much attention is focused on keeping unborn babies alive, but the truth of the matter is, when those unwanted babies are born, then it’s completely up to the mother. It’s no longer, “all lives are precious,” but, “That’s your child, now you care for it, even if you didn’t want to proceed with this in the first place.” Once the baby is born, all the rallying is over. There is no support post-birth.

Some think abortions are only excusable in extreme circumstances. Those exceptions usually mean when a woman is raped, or when the pregnancy poses a threat to the woman’s life. I saw a post going around on social media saying that this mindset is saying that a woman only has a say when her body has been violated by another. And I couldn’t agree more. If a pregnancy is not wanted, the reason for why a woman wants to terminate a pregnancy should not matter. She does not need to be taken advantage of or have her body violated to “earn” that right. Everyone should have the freedom to choose.

Overturning Roe v. Wade does not eliminate abortions. Just because something is illegal, doesn’t mean it will not take place all over the world. Making abortions illegal will just make it harder for women to have access to the right treatment. Not only will it be harder to terminate a pregnancy, but others may try to take matters into their own hands. This can lead to unsafe methods that can completely be avoided. Taking away the right for a woman to choose if she will or will not reproduce only effects low-income households. Rich women will not be effected because their money will grant them more access to safer procedures. The fact of the matter is, abortions – whether legal or not – will take place. People will always find a way. And if they’re going to happen regardless, we should have proper procedures and protocols in place.

You can be pro-life but still support pro-choice. Just because you believe every woman has the right to choose for themselves doesn’t mean you personally would get an abortion. You could never want / get an abortion in your life, but still think abortions are okay. It’s okay to disagree with abortions but realize that it is not your place to tell a woman what to do with their body. Pro-life doesn’t have to mean anti-choice. I say this because I feel like a lot of people out there personally don’t agree with abortions, so they feel like they need to personalize the topic. By saying and confirming that THEY would never get an abortion means that they don’t believe others should get it. And that’s not true. If it’s not the route you would take, that’s understandable. But just because you can’t relate to a woman’s choice to terminate a pregnancy doesn’t mean abortions should be banned.

For those who have ever gotten an abortion, there is nothing to be ashamed of. And there is no shame in supporting those who have gotten abortions either. This is a very pivotal moment in history, and there will be some that will try to skew the narrative. Just because you support every woman’s right to choose, doesn’t mean you don’t value life. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person if you see nothing wrong with a woman terminating a pregnancy she doesn’t wish to keep. Everyone should feel like they are in control of their own lives. The government should have no say in whether or not a woman reproduces.

I can’t believe I’m writing about this in 2022…

Reign: The Last Gift

“This is story 7 of 10 of LoveYourzStory’s Motherhood Series. 10 mothers give us a glimpse into a small portion of their motherhood journey. I am so grateful that these 10 women gave me the opportunity to share their stories on my platform. Though they focus on different topics, each mother has gone through challenges that tested their strength, patience, and sense of self. Thank you again for sharing.” -Marinelle, LoveYourzStory

This is Reign’s story, written in her own words:

“The day I found out I was pregnant, it was shortly after my grandma passed away in January of 2018. I found out on February 4th. I wasn’t feeling like my normal self, my stomach was hurting and I was just feeling really weird. When the test results came back, I cried. I was mostly nervous to tell my mom. I was nervous to hear what everyone was going to say. 

My son’s dad was very supportive when we found out. He asked me what I wanted to do and how I felt. His exact words to me were, “I’m with whatever you want to do.” I was too scared to terminate my pregnancy, so I decided very quickly that I was going to go through with it. He was happy to find out he was going to be a dad. 

The beginning of my pregnancy was very rocky, everyone in my family was so focused on the loss of my grandma and the heartache that it left them with. I had very little support in the beginning. I was told things like I was being “selfish” and that they were “disappointed” in me. I also was told that I couldn’t be “focused on” because of the big loss we just took as a family. What they didn’t know was that this pregnancy was gonna save me. Mostly from self-destruction. 

Not until the middle of the pregnancy were things able to run smoothly with everyone excited and becoming more open minded to the thought of a new innocent life. The feeling of not having them be supportive was sickening to me. I didn’t know what I was going to do without my family being happy for me. I was very sad, and on top of the loss of my grandma, I was kicked out of my mom’s house.

 I was staying with my grandpa and aunt, and a couple days before my grandma’s funeral, my mom came by and had a conversation with me about what I was going to do moving forward and how I felt, etc. She didn’t apologize, but she expressed that when she got pregnant as a teen mom, her mom didn’t turn her back on her, so she didn’t plan on doing it to me. Over all, aside from family support, I had the most loving, patient, and caring partner by my side during all the tribulations. I was happily pregnant, I didn’t care what everyone was thinking of me. I knew what I wanted and I wasn’t going to change my mind about having my baby. 

My original due date was October 3rd. I went into early labor due to the car accident that happened on September 19th 2018. My mom, grandma, and I were just running a few errands – a normal day. All of a sudden, what I can remember was an older man merging all the way into the side of my mom’s car. He was coming from the left side of me. I was in the back seat on the passenger side and my mom veered all the way to the right to avoid impact as much as possible. 

To be honest, during pregnancy I hated the seat belt, so I didn’t have one on at the time (worst decision ever), and I had to brace myself with my feet. My first reaction was getting out of the car and making sure my grandma was ok, then to curse the guy out who hit us. An elderly woman and a pregnant woman all in the same car. I was furious, so furious I forgot about my health, in that moment adrenaline took over.

 I didn’t feel the urgent need to go to the hospital that same day. I became suddenly tired after the accident, so I went home and got in bed for the rest of the day. My mom also never wrote a police report about it because the other driver didn’t have any information on him. I didn’t have any injuries from the car accident, I just had a back spasm from bracing myself from going forward from impact. My grandma and my mom were totally fine, and my mom had to go to work after dropping us off at home. 

 After the car accident, I didn’t go to the ER immediately, like I mentioned earlier, everyone was fine and I waited a day and checked into the hospital at 10am September 20th, 2018. During that time they ran tests and monitored me and baby till around 5pm and then finally told me that I couldn’t continue with the pregnancy and the baby has to come now. I was so confused and scared. Everything being told to me, I had them repeat to me twice because I wasn’t quite comprehending nor was I even remotely ready for this just to happen. The decision making and procedure was just so quick.

I’ve always expected birth to be like… I don’t know, honestly I thought something more movie-like. It’s nothing like the movies, babies come at their own pace and they are in their own race. You don’t know what is going to happen next during pregnancy or labor no matter how ready or prepared you think you are. I gave birth 2 weeks early. I was induced twice due to the accident and no, I didn’t know anything about “inducements” prior to this. Nor was I expecting to be induced. This was an emergency induction due to the fact that I didn’t have enough amniotic fluid to continue a full term pregnancy. I was at the doctors 2 days before and everything was fine prior to.

First and foremost, I have never experienced this much pain in my whole entire life, this was the most painful thing I have ever had to endure. I honestly wish they had given me the option to undergo surgery right away instead of having to go through the inducement process. The purpose of the process was to dilate my cervix to prepare for a vaginal birth (or so they thought). The first one was too painful to endure, so they gave me a second option. That one took 3 times to attempt, the final time I was able to endure it and finally got through the hardest part.

 Overnight, we waited. On the morning of September 21st, 2018, we were just waking up and all of a sudden the heart rate dropped on the monitor. In less than 2 seconds everyone (nurses, medical assistants, doctors, specialists) come rushing through the room doors and immediately become hands on trying to figure out what is happening. All I heard was, “get on all fours!” “get on your knees and hands right now!” So, I did. As I’m in this position I start screaming to ask for information on what the hell was going on here. 

My birth wasn’t an emergency birth because of the accident,  it was because of my baby’s heart rate dropping while being induced. I was totally unprepared for this experience. They never gave me a cesarean option or made it seem like an option from the very beginning of the inducement. I never was told I was going to have a C-section until the last couple of seconds before being rolled out of my room. When everyone came to my room to figure out why his heart rate dropped, I overheard a nurse say “roll her out to the OR,” and that was as formal a warning as it was going to get in this story. 

Now that I work in healthcare, communicating everything with the patient helps them trust you. It also allows the procedure to take course in a natural flow because narration is leading. Of course, during this time it was an emergency, but I feel like I only felt doubtful or scared because I didn’t know what was going on. Nobody was communicating with me and the environment was chaotic. This part of labor was the most traumatic, the couple seconds that I didn’t know what was going to happen or what could happen.

In those fast 60 seconds, I was being rolled out to the “OR” (operating room). I asked for my child’s father to be present and they told me they would allow him to come in. They never allowed him in, assuming because of the emergency and not knowing the outcome of the emergency. I was upset (at the time) that my son’s dad couldn’t be in the delivery room with me because I needed that extra support. The nurses didn’t want to hold my hand, I was grabbing their scrubs for dear life. I was scared. It would have been nice to have him there with me but now looking back, I know that it was best he wasn’t present because anything could have happened. And instead of having them deal with possibly detaining him from acting on emotions, they were able to just focus on delivering Oriyon safely.

 I just remember being SO scared and unprepared for what was happening. None of the videos I watched on “giving birth” went like this! LOL, no more than 15 minutes passed and my baby was safely delivered and healthy. I couldn’t believe it though. I didn’t know what he was going to look like, I didn’t know that I was going to have him so quickly. I was in awe to think that this precious little baby came from inside of me. His dad was able to be the first one to hold him while I was unconscious and recovering from the procedure. I woke up in pain but was able to see and hold my baby boy, Oriyon Hasani, 4lbs 10oz for the first time. 

The most traumatizing part of my whole labor experience was being rolled into the operating room without knowledge of what could happen next. And the inducement takes second place to that. To the vaginal birth-giving mothers that may look down on C-section mothers or jokingly say that they didn’t give birth to their baby, I don’t agree. I personally don’t feel like it makes me less of a mother, But I finally understood why moms are the way they are. 

In some way, I finally understood  what my mom was talking about when she would tell me, “You’re not ready for a baby.” But honestly nobody ever is. I think she meant it in a warning way, like I wasn’t ready for the pain of giving birth but also the pain I would be willing to endure for someone else. Having money, being out of your parents’ house, being over 30, being married, that doesn’t make you any more or any less ready to have a baby. 

Being a new mom was hard for me because it was a realization of how I would be fully responsible for this little human, forever. The new thought of having created a whole entire human is still very shocking to me. Everything happened so quickly. I was in so much pain, I couldn’t begin to wrap my head around the fact that I had my baby, right here, and NOW. I began to second guess and question my ability to be the mother I wanted to be. With the reassurance of my family, friends and his dad, I was able to take it one day at a time learn to be patient and get a hang of motherhood. 

When I was still in the hospital, I was on an intense amount of drugs. I had access at the tip of my finger, with the press of a button. It was pre-covid so I was able to have visitors come to my room, and of course, people were coming in to see him. I was just so drugged out in pain. I remember what was happening but it’s so blurry as a memory. It’s as if I was watching a movie of someone else’s life. The healing process was horrid for me. At home, I was spending a lot of time alone with my newborn. At the time, I lived with my son’s dad and his family, and everyone would go to work so I was doing things for myself most of the day.

 I went through an intense chapter of PPD (Postpartum Depression), and things started to change around me very quickly. I didn’t get enough time to process, just adapt. I suppressed a lot of those emotions. Being a new mom, I was sort of just existing for the first couple of months. There was a lot going on with my new extended family, shortly after I gave birth. My son’s dad went away for a short time and I had to move back in with my mom. I didn’t have much time or space to feel every emotion that I was feeling or wanted to feel. I had to think about my son and what was best for him. My emotions were on the back burner and I wasn’t able to express or identify a lot of these emotions until a year ago. 

A lot of my healing is so recent. Oriyon is now 3 years old and I am now 25, I feel like I have just now fully healed from postpartum depression. Now, I’m working through some generational trauma at this point of parenting. I have done a lot of self-reflecting and spiritual work. And I changed my career pursuit. I don’t believe that it takes everyone this long, but I do believe that it takes real work, time, self-reflecting, and acceptance of self.

Coming out of this journey I had to learn and discover who I was all over again. Not like “What’s my favorite color?” or “What’s my regular Starbucks order?” but like allowing myself to have some ME time without feeling guilty, like buying myself some essentials without buying my son anything.

I often share how I feel like my son saved me because of the decisions I could have made. I know myself, and I know I can be impulsive, but because I had my son, I could easily establish what I should be doing. I’m constantly putting my son first. I grew out of a lot of people and bad habits once I became Oriyon’s mom. The first time I experienced death really close in my family, I had bad coping mechanisms. I was unproductive, angry, and I relied a lot on numbing myself – I didn’t really care about much.

Having a baby changed me. It was hard to transition to the mom phase, but it was happening for the better. Getting in tune with my inner being allowed me to be a stronger woman and better parent. Overtime, I learned to separate myself from a lot of things that I felt were hindering me and blinding me. I did what I needed to do to reach what I wanted to obtain. I have wanted to create sustainability for us, to love myself physically and mentally, and to become more patient as a parent. 

Over all, I came to a realization that only I was in the way of my own self and I was allowing myself to come up with excuses to be toxic, sporadic, and impulsive. It was important to be gentle with myself and having those breakdowns. The set backs were essential to my personal growth. In the end, the most rewarding feeling is the amount of  growth within relationships, bonds, and experiences. Being able to use that in all areas of life to be so full and grateful to the point of self joy feels so amazing. I am truly blessed.

The best part about being a mom is having someone who truly loves you for who you are. As a parent, we don’t realize that our kids look up to us. They look at us as if we are heroes that can make anything happen, they love us unconditionally, and they spend majority of their time with us (as moms). They don’t get to see the struggles or the tears and even if they do, they wipe our tears for us. They could be so young, and still, they know just what to do. Being a mom is so dope to me because it gives me purpose on my darkest days.

I like to think of my pregnancy as a gift from my grandma to have purpose and motivation to keep going. This second family death brought new life. There’s really no telling where I would be without my son.” -Reign

Jela: Motherhood Conundrum

“This is story 6 of 10 of LoveYourzStory’s Motherhood Series. 10 mothers give us a glimpse into a small portion of their motherhood journey. I am so grateful that these 10 women gave me the opportunity to share their stories on my platform. Though they focus on different topics, each mother has gone through challenges that tested their strength, patience, and sense of self. Thank you again for sharing.” -Marinelle, LoveYourzStory

This is Jela’s story, written in her own words:

“Have I lost my identity when I became a mother? We all change. As time goes by our plans, decisions, and life change, and that’s totally okay. Sometimes the best transitions we experience or make in our lives are the ones that we feel like we are at peace with in the moment. Before I became a mother, I was a nanny, and at one point I became a traveling nanny for a very short period of time before my husband’s first duty station. When people meet me for the first time, I mostly get comments that I’m very patient and nurturing, and if I became a mother, it would already be “natural” for me. In my mind, I’ve always asked myself, “do you really need to be ‘natural’ becoming a mother or parent?” 

I’ve always wanted to plan to be a mother in my mid 20s. At 23, I became pregnant with my first born son in October 2016, but only found out a month later. At that time my husband and I moved to his first duty station 3,000 miles away from our hometown. I will always remember the morning we found out I was pregnant. The night before, we went to my husband’s first command holiday party. We were about to order drinks. I had a drink in mind, but I immediately asked if they had pineapple juice or any juice only. They actually did have pineapple juice! I ordered juice because I was feeling nauseous at the time.

 We planned to stay long, but we only stayed for an hour. Honestly, we left right away after that because we were going to GameStop to pick up the Pokémon Sun and Moon that we had ordered for the night release. After that, I really wanted to go to Target right across GameStop to buy a few pregnancy tests to take in the morning. The next day, I took a few pregnancy tests and it was confirmed that I was pregnant. I couldn’t really keep my pregnancy a secret from my family who lived nearby because every time we would see each other, or if we went out to eat, I would run to the bathroom to throw up what I just ate a few minutes before. 

I spent most of my days and appointments alone because my husband was out to sea a lot during that time. He missed pretty much the first appointment and all the ultrasounds, but I am thankful that on some days my sister would drive an hour away to stay with me during the week. I would drive down to visit my siblings every other day, even if that underwater tunnel bridge traffic was always rough! I’d drive a few minutes to visit my husband’s relatives that lived so close to us, or drive up 3 hours to visit my husband’s relatives in another state. 

Fast forward to when it was delivery day, we moved from Hampton to Virginia Beach, VA to be closer to family and my husband’s work, but the hospital I was being seen at was still in Hampton. I had an appointment that day, and I was called back in because my blood pressure was high (not sure why they sent me home the first time they saw my BP high in person). I developed Gestational Hypertension the day I delivered and needed to be monitored for contractions. I was having contractions, but to me they weren’t super painful in the beginning and I was 1 cm dilated as soon as we drove back to the hospital. They suggested that I walk for 2-3 hours, come back to get induced with a Foley bulb, but as soon as I came back from my walk at Costco (we even drove back home to pick up our hospital bag), I was already 4 cm dilated.

 I had a few complications during my pregnancy prior to having Gestational Hypertension, one of them being that I had to gain a lot of weight during my pregnancy (I did have a hard time gaining weight growing up). The second was that I was GBS positive. I was on antibiotics during delivery for that, so that meant I was only allowed to push every 3 hours when the antibiotics were administered to prevent passing it on to my baby, but everything was so quick after that last push. I tried pushing on my back and right side and I needed to push one last time so they turned me to my left side because his heart rate was dropping before my last push. I remember my midwife asking if I wanted to use the mirror up in the ceiling that they had (because his head was already out and I needed to push a little bit more). I remember looking at the mirror up the ceiling and I was just so amazed.

After giving birth, everything felt so surreal. Nobody told me that giving birth was going to sound quiet (at least with my first it was quiet!), lots of shaking, vomiting, and feeling the need to go to the bathroom A LOT. I started to push at 9pm, waited 3 hours to push again, then around 2 am, Isaac was out. 

When Isaac (my firstborn) was born, everything was already prepared for him. I nested a lot even with my husband out to sea and we even got to move and settle into another town a week before I gave birth. We also moved to a smaller apartment, it was a 750 sq ft apartment but it felt so homey and loved our space. I felt so much excitement and happiness before and after giving birth. My husband and I even took classes and made sure we were informed about all the safety procedures we could possibly learn about. 

But even with that, after giving birth came days where I felt off, not myself, a lot of pain experienced from healing postpartum, and breastfeeding in the early weeks. I was even told that if I ever felt sad or baby blues, to not talk to anyone about it. EVER. It felt invalidating, but I just brushed it off. I’m not sure what the person’s reasoning was for telling me that. I’m sure a lot of mothers have experienced the same thing where someone would give them unsolicited advice. I understand, maybe that person didn’t mean harm when they said it to me. Maybe it’s just an automatic response to what people learned to say before we were more exposed to raising awareness of mental health.

 I didn’t think much of it until later on when I became more aware of things that were very stigmatized towards pregnant women, mothers, and parents. As a mother, we are constantly told to not feel certain things, judged by the way we look while pregnant, and especially after giving birth. That we’ll be fine, as long as the baby is okay, that’s all that matters. It didn’t matter if the mother wasn’t okay, especially with their mental health. When I had Isaac, I thought that self-care meant taking a shower, going to the grocery store alone (to get things we needed for the house), and all the basic needs that everyone should have, was what I thought was self-care, to be able to do those things again. 

When I was going through postpartum, I turned to my husband and friends. They were the ones who were mostly there to listen or just be there as a friend. I am so grateful for them. I realized that the person in my ear was wrong because I didn’t feel at peace with it. I felt like I had to be ashamed of having feelings, it felt very invalidating. I felt like I had to shrink myself so everything could be “fine.” I felt like I couldn’t ask for help, making me feel smaller and smaller. As I talk to more mothers, once we open up a topic that is usually considered “not normal” to the world, we find ourselves relating to each other, and remember that we are not alone in this. It’s okay to feel positive and negative feelings at the same time. It’s okay if what works for you doesn’t work for another parent. It’s a really big deal for me when I finally get the courage to speak up or talk to someone. 

A year and a few months after Isaac was born, we needed to move to California because my husband’s job was moving homeports. We moved to San Diego in March 2019. It was a really big move this time. Everything we had, had to be shipped, including our car. We were actually going to move back to our home state, but this time with no family nearby to just walk or drive to. My husband couldn’t fly to see the place we were going to live in because he was going to deploy in a few days before our move in date, so it was only me and Isaac that flew.

 I thought “Hey, if I did this once, I can get through it again!” Since it also happened with our first move to VA while my husband was in Mississippi for his school before moving to his first duty station. Every time there was a huge change in our life, it felt surreal. It felt surreal that I picked up the house keys myself, lived in an empty house with no furniture, and our car was still in the shipping company waiting to be picked up. I was so grateful that time, my friend picked me up from the airport, offered her home to have us stay before our move in date, lent me her air mattress, and drove me and Isaac to pick up our car.

 Even though I am used to being alone and doing things alone, I was grateful that during these critical times, it’s always the people that you go through these things with that show up. Honestly, I had times where I dealt with my husband being out to sea just fine and sometimes I didn’t deal with it really well. I found what helped me the most is when I am preoccupied throughout the day like being outdoors, staying active, learning the area by commuting instead of taking the car, traveling (LOTS of Disneyland trips!!)  and going to spouse connection events. 

I felt really blessed that even if my husband was deployed for a few months, my friends, military spouses, and neighbors showed up not just once but numerous times. My husband was deployed, and Fall of 2019 is where I think I started to feel like I lost track of who I was. It got really depressing when the homecoming days changed 3 times. That meant my husband’s deployment got extended for months that exceeded the maximum time that they should be away at sea. It got so rough that I stopped organizing (organizing calms me) and doing things I usually do to get through the day. 

At that time, I was going through so much and focused on making everyone happy and setting my own needs aside. I felt like everytime I tried to take care of myself full on, someone would always tell me I was being selfish for doing it, or question my husband behind my back, and ask unnecessary questions when I was trying to give myself time and space. I started to not be as active online anymore and took a lot of huge breaks from social media. I felt like I needed to just stay silent and isolate myself because everytime I tried to communicate, it was often misunderstood and thought of as me reacting differently or being negative about it when I was not. 

My husband and I were planning for a second baby. Planning on having a second baby was a huge discussion to talk about because we were both going to school full-time during the pandemic. I became pregnant with my second baby at the end of September 2020. I had already felt a bit nauseous, and I was even giving away some of my firstborn’s baby clothes, I honestly thought it was just the stress from school and the pandemic. But then I missed my period so I just had to check, just in case. With this pregnancy, I thought that it was going to be easy because I found out early. I didn’t feel the need to throw up, I was still doing some small hikes that were open during the pandemic with my family, and I only felt a little nauseous.

 I was wrong, 2 weeks after finding out, we dropped off Isaac on his first day at daycare, my husband and I went out to eat breakfast, our very first date together since he got home from deployment. As soon as the food got to our table, I rushed to the bathroom and vomited. I was just about 5 weeks pregnant. After that I started to feel so stressed, I know it sounds ridiculous, but morning sickness really took a toll on me. Everything I wanted to eat, I wanted to throw up, even if it was just a banana, a bowl of oatmeal, a bag of chips, or a rice bowl with my favorite side dish. Even driving made me dizzy that I had to drive all the time so I felt less nauseous, and I would still throw up before and after driving.

 I tried all the remedies that were supposedly supposed to work to even get prescribed medicine to help me with the nausea. I didn’t know what to do anymore. I would literally cry almost everyday because I didn’t know what to eat or how to manage being pregnant anymore. I didn’t have much energy to go out, but I also felt so isolated if I didn’t go out for a walk or do something outside of the house. 

What was different from my 1st and 2nd pregnancy was the amount of stress I experienced. I was going to school full-time while having my toddler learn how to use the toilet after showing lots of signs that he was ready, having him transition to his first daycare for a few months, and finding out where we were going be stationed next (the military doesn’t really give you so much time when it comes to moving to the next duty station, even if you are a planner and have set plans just in case), and with the pandemic, it caused so much stress and anxiety. I went to the hospital & ER a couple of times during my pregnancy early on for palpitations, monitoring my heart with a Holter heart monitor, and getting a 2D Echo (heart ultrasound). It was a relief that all the tests came back normal. But my depression and anxiety were peaking, and at the time I finally started to see a therapist. 

The start of the pandemic, as we know, was scary and tremendously stressful for everyone. Some days, I was able to use some of that time of uncertainty to try to heal all the things I repeatedly brushed off and set aside, even if it meant feeling all my feelings at once to heal. By healing, I don’t mean “positive vibes only,” or being so certain about everything so quickly. I mean days where sometimes it’s a sad day, crying day, or even just a day where I sat by myself thinking “Hey, this was not okay before, but now that I’m able to recognize that, I can reflect on it and move on.” I felt like a lot of these things that were considered “normal” had to do with the toxic culture that most of us grew up in. We were conditioned to think and act a certain way because it’s become normalized in our culture and society.

At this moment, I feel like I “lost” myself. I find myself thinking about things I used to do, that I can’t anymore. Like who am I besides being a mother? But I realized that that’s just temporary and that I’m not “lost.” Having to handle two kids, I felt like I wasn’t enough to attend to them both. But school and exploring the city I’m in is helping me right now because I am learning more of what interests me and my family. Some days, I can balance being a mom and an individual, and some days I can’t. It really just depends on my 4 year old and newborn’s moods and needs that day! When I can’t, I really try my best to have an easy day for both me and my children. But I do know that being an individual is taking time for me to try to get used to, especially when I am around other adults. This pandemic got me going back to being more introverted than I already was before!

Self-care to me looks like having the time to yourself to enjoy things that you want or need. Even if others think it’s taking a few minutes showering or walking alone at the store or somewhere, it’s nice to have that time for yourself. As long as you’re happy with it. I notice myself feeling burnt out a lot lately, and I really need to find the time to take care of myself. To me, taking care of myself means finding the time to run (I love running, even if I’m a slow runner!), watching tv, eating my favorite food, or going on a date with my fave person aka my husband. One day I do want to try to go on a mini vacation by myself without the kids, BUT I don’t know when that will be since I don’t have it in me yet to try to do that. 

My husband has been there for me, even if there were days where we weren’t on the same page. He’s such a great partner and father. Every couple has their struggles, and we’re all not perfect. When I’m not myself, he is there to pick up where I left off, whether it’s cleaning the house, filling up my gas tank so I don’t have to drive 15 minutes to the cheapest gas station, or doing so many loads of laundry. A lot of those things get undone or unfinished especially with 2 children now. We don’t believe in “gender roles,” so he is just doing his part as a partner and father. He just helps take off so much of that mother’s guilt.

 He makes me feel like I can be myself and that I am more than just the negative things I think about myself. I think and care about so much and he is more of a laid back person, so it balances out sometimes. There were many days when I couldn’t get out of bed, even trying to get myself to eat or shower was just so difficult for me. When it’s the other way around where he looks so tired from work or school, I try to pick up where he left off. We’re also still learning many things during this process and I’m glad that he tries his very best to help in any way he can as a partner.

My advice is to surround yourself with your village and take it easy some days. It’s okay if your child/children had cereal for dinner just to survive the day, because we can’t be and do everything all at once. I tried that – trying to be a mom, help with what was going on with the world (especially during the pandemic), absorbing every feeling and problems that needed to be attended to – and trust me, it’s not possible to be everything for everyone. So I went offline for a few months and helped with what I was able to do at the time, and control what I can control at the moment. 

We’re all human, I know it’s hard sometimes to not feel guilty for parenting what works for us, or for doing one small or big thing for ourselves, and you’ll lose people who are close to you. Sometimes families can’t be there for each other because of being far away and having different schedules and plans in life, but I think that it’s nice to surround yourself with people who can relate to you or understand your situation. Even if it’s just 1or 2 people. We all can’t do it alone and everything all at once.” -Jela

Lexus: Birth After a Cesarean

“This is story 5 of 10 of LoveYourzStory’s Motherhood Series. 10 mothers give us a glimpse into a small portion of their motherhood journey. I am so grateful that these 10 women gave me the opportunity to share their stories on my platform. Though they focus on different topics, each mother has gone through challenges that tested their strength, patience, and sense of self. Thank you again for sharing.” -Marinelle, LoveYourzStory

This is Lexus’ story, written in her own words:

“I guess to fully explain how I had a successful VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean), I would need to explain what caused me to have a C-section to begin with.

 My first pregnancy was a healthy pregnancy with no complications with me or the baby. He was healthy and growing at a normal rate. When I finally went into labor, I fully dilated to 10 cm and we started pushing. The entire time I was guided by the nurses in the hospital. The doctor came in a total of two times that I remember. I was kind of annoyed. But then again, it was my first time so I wasn’t sure how the process was supposed to go.

I was pushing for 7 hours, which I know now is unheard of. It being my first pregnancy, I didn’t look too much into what happens during labor, so when the time came I just followed the instructions from the nurses. The entire time one of the nurses kept saying she felt the baby’s head so of course I continued to push. That was the main reason why I continued to push. I figured if she felt his head, he would be coming out soon. At the end of the 7 hours, I started to get a fever. Because I was getting a fever, they had to give me antibiotics which would cause my son to receive them when he finally made his appearance.

 At this point is when the doctor came in. It was the 2nd time I saw a doctor. They told me that if I continued pushing, I would cause stress to the baby. They gave me the choice of pushing another 30 mins or go into an emergency C-section. Of course, trying to do the “right” thing for my baby and wanting to have him already, I chose to do the C-section. After the procedure I was informed that my son had ended up breached and that I was pushing him into my pelvic bone. They kept an eye on the baby’s position on appointments leading up to giving birth. He was always head down, so we never worried about anything. It was a hard recovery but at least I had a healthy baby boy. 

I definitely wish I did more research on actually giving birth. You see everyone around you doing a vaginal birth, and you never think that  you might not have the same outcome. I also wish I would’ve done more research on the actual labor process itself. You hear women going through 20 hours of labor, not realizing that doesn’t mean pushing. That’s going through contractions, your body preparing to give birth.

Now, when I found out I was pregnant again, I was afraid I was going to have another C-section. I thought that after you had one you would have to have all future children the same way. This time around I did more research on the labor and delivery instead of pregnancy milestones. I had learned that you could have a baby vaginally after a C-section. And once I found that out, that’s what I wanted to do.

 For the first 3 appointments, I had mentioned that I wanted to have a VBAC, and each time they had asked why and gave me information on what can happen if I did. It was normal conversations you would have about precautions. I don’t know if this was supposed to be a scare tactic and they were trying to persuade me into just going with another C-section, but I wasn’t budging. I felt like they were pushing so hard because it was convenient. I’m not sure if they were used to doing VBACs and would rather just do another major surgery. But my family was super encouraging. I think they knew how much I wanted to do it vaginally.

The doctor did manage to scare my husband. Before our next appointment, we had another conversation about the situation. When we went in, the doctor brought up our birth plan again and asked if we had done much thinking about it and if we still wanted to go with the VBAC. I told them that I wanted to stay with our birth plan. That’s when the doctor told us that because of our labor story with my son, they felt it would be best to have another C-section. He said nothing about my son or my pregnancy seemed to cause a C-section. The doctor said it must have been something with me, that my uterus or my birth canal must’ve been angled wrong and that could’ve caused him to not be able to come out. He continued that my body wasn’t made to have children, and if I continued with the VBAC, I’d most likely do an emergency C-section again. He said it’s safer to schedule a C-section. 

Now this was new information we didn’t have before. So my certainty of wanting to do a VBAC went out the window. Now, in my head all I could think of was that I caused my son to have a stressful labor. I didn’t want to do the same to my daughter. I didn’t want to be selfish knowing it could cause harm to my daughter to try and have a vaginal birth. I was upset and scared. I really didn’t know what to think because you always hear that a woman’s body is meant to bear children, and for your doctor to tell you yours isn’t, sucks. My husband and I went over the pros and cons and decided the cons out weighed the pros because it was my body that wasn’t made to have a child. 

Our next appointment we told them we would go with a C-section. They never questioned our birth plan after that. I asked many questions about concerns I had, and they pretty much made it seem as though it would be the best and easiest recovery because I had already been through it before. So we scheduled our C-section and that was our new birth plan.

Our C-Section was scheduled for a Friday, a week before my actual due date. We had made arrangements for my sister to come out the day before so she would stay with my son. Having a C-section, you’re required to stay in the hospital for at least 48 hrs, so we did all our planning around that. Well my daughter decided we weren’t allowed to plan her birth. That Monday, I went into labor and delivery because I didn’t feel much movement going on with the baby which scared me of course. She checked out fine and they asked me if I wanted them to check how dilated I was. I declined because I was already scheduled for my C-section in a couple days. 

Well, the next day, I started having contractions. I thought maybe they were Braxton Hicks, so I took a shower, but they were still coming after. While I was cleaning and doing laundry, I decided to call my doctor’s office on what I should do. They don’t go into detail on if you go into labor before your scheduled appointment. On a normal delivery, you have to have a certain criteria on where your contractions had to be, but as far as this, I didn’t know when I should go in. They told me I shouldn’t be contracting at all and that I needed to go in ASAP. 

I called my husband and told him it was time. Because it was a couple of days early, we had to rush my son to his grandma’s and rush to the hospital. When we got there, I was already 6cm dilated. The nurse had to step out really quick while I was filling out paperwork. When  she came back, she asked if I wanted to have an epidural. I told her I wasn’t sure because I was supposed to be having a C-section and I wasn’t sure what the procedure was. Her eyes widened and said, “You’re supposed to be having a C-section?”

She rushed out to go talk to a doctor and came back asking if I was totally opposed to having a vaginal birth. I said that I was told I wouldn’t be able to because of the angle of my uterus. She looked at me and said, “Well, she looks like she’s coming fast. Would you be ok if she came?” I looked at my husband, he looked at me. I asked the nurse if she felt the baby would be safe coming vaginally. She said she did, and from that point, everything changed. I was still in the mindset that my body wasn’t capable of having a baby. I feel like she totally switched my mindset.

The nurse, Norma, went to find an open room. I’m going through contractions. I started telling my husband to find someone to see if I can get an epidural. She came back in and rushed me to a room and introduced me to the nurse that was going to be helping with my delivery. They gave me a high dose of epidural because they still weren’t sure if I was going to deliver vaginally or by C-section because they had to wait on the doctor. I finally got some relief when the epidural kicked in.

 It probably was a total of 20-30 minutes from when we walked in, to getting rushed into the labor room. I went from 6cm to 8cm. Norma, my nurse, then started asking me if I wanted to do it vaginally or have a C-section. I told her if she honestly felt I could do it vaginally, I would rather do it that way. She said she really felt I could. She had me sign both approval forms just to be safe. When the doctor finally came in, she wasn’t one I met before in all my visits. She asked me and of course I said I wanted to do a VBAC if she felt I could safely do so. She said absolutely. We labored for another 5 hrs and pushed for about an hour and a half. 

My daughter couldn’t make her way under my pelvic bone. Of course, I was getting nervous, so I asked Norma if there was anything I could do to help my baby make it under my pelvic bone. She said we could always try to vacuum to help guide her. I asked her if we could do that. She went to go speak to the new doctor, because at this point, it was a shift change for the doctors and he came in to check if we were a good candidate. He said we were perfect. He placed the vacuum on my daughter’s head, and in one push she came out. 

.I had a successful VBAC. I had my daughter the way I wanted to. All thanks to the nurses – Nurse Norma and Dr.Ivie especially – for convincing me that I was completely able to. They  proved to me that my body was fully capable of having a baby, that I wasn’t somehow defected. A few women have asked about my VBAC after and had questions on how it went. I tell them my story and how I became an advocate for going for the VBAC. I honestly feel like my previous doctors failed me and discouraged me from having it because it would’ve been more convenient for them. I want to convince other women that you are able to deliver vaginally and that you don’t only have one option after having a C-section.” -Lexus

Brittany: Careful Excitement

“This is story 4 of 10 of LoveYourzStory’s Motherhood Series. 10 mothers give us a glimpse into a small portion of their motherhood journey. I am so grateful that these 10 women gave me the opportunity to share their stories on my platform. Though they focus on different topics, each mother has gone through challenges that tested their strength, patience, and sense of self. Thank you again for sharing.” -Marinelle, LoveYourzStory

This is Brittany’s story, written in her own words:

“I remember the first time telling anyone we were pregnant. It was our monthiversary and we went out for dinner. The server asked if we had any dietary restrictions and we said, “Well, we’re expecting, so probably no raw fish?” We looked at each other with such excitement, “that’s the first person we told that we’re pregnant!” August 10, 2017. Over the next couple weeks we started telling family, friends, roommates, etc.

 August 25th, we go to the OBGYN excited to see our baby’s heartbeat for the first time. What does anyone expect at their first OB appointment? Ultrasound, some tears of joy, excitement, pictures to take home and admire, and info about what to expect in your next stages of pregnancy. Right? Wrong.

 It was so quiet. She pointed out the amniotic sac and said, “let me just take some measurements.” “Okay,” I thought, “after she takes measurements she’ll point the baby out and show us the heartbeat, right?” Wrong again. 

The most daunting sentence came out of her mouth that we can never forget. “I’m so sorry, but I don’t see a heartbeat.” Okay so what does that mean? “Naturally your body will expel the baby, if nothing happens in about 2 weeks then you’ll need to come back…”

 I was so confused, it hadn’t hit me. Things were so unclear that I had to ask to clarify. The baby’s not alive? The baby’s gonna come out on its own? Huh? The term “miscarriage” suddenly wasn’t a term to me anymore, it was a reality that I had to face and endure. The physical pain you go through WHILE you’re experiencing emotional pain, it’s hard to say which hurts more.

And you know what sucks just as much as losing a baby, if not more?

It’s having to tell people over and over that you had just lost a baby.

Fast forward to the next year…

 We found out we were pregnant again! But this time, we were careful. And I don’t mean careful with my diet or physically, I mean, careful about telling people. What a lot of women don’t talk about is how losing a baby from a previous pregnancy affects how you react to your next pregnancy, your ability to experience anything but joy and excitement. You worry CONSTANTLY. 

“Let’s not tell anyone, just in case.” You dread going to that first appointment because, “what if…” Your pregnancy becomes a secret you feel you need to keep, rather than exciting news to tell all your loved ones. You feel alone, trapped in those first (12 weeks) or however long until you finally feel like you are safe to announce. You feel that you need to do MORE than everything right. Be on top of prenatal, watch my diet, watch my physical activity, anything that’s “not recommended for women who are pregnant,” don’t you dare do it.

 Then, the day has come. Your first OB appointment – ultrasound day. Our ultrasound day. My heart’s beating so damn fast while I’m laying down in that chair. I stare at the screen so hard, waiting to see that little flicker. I hold my breath and think, maybe if I stop moving, I’ll see it.

Except, I don’t.

“I’m so sorry, there is no heartbeat.”

I’m shaking my head, as that’s the only response I had at the moment. So many things running through my mind.

Again?

 How? 

Why? 

Are we being punished? 

How could this happen again, back to back? 

Did I do something wrong? 

Is there something wrong with me? 

Can I not bear children?

 Is God telling us that we’re not ready to have children?

 I have to go through all this pain all over again?

You endure the pain again and then you go back and forth between blaming the universe and blaming yourself. For weeks, if not months, questioning- “when will we be ready to start trying again?”

The first miscarriage the doctor just said it just happens randomly. The second time they said it could just be two cases of really bad luck. But they took samples of it the second time (I think) and did tests if I remember correctly. And they didn’t find anything wrong so they were like, “yeah it’s just really bad luck you’re having. But if it happens for the third time in a row we might want to look into fertility services.”

 And when she said that I was so shook. Like OMG, I’m so young, is there something wrong with me? My body? Can I not have children?

June 11, 2018 was the day we went to our OB appointment and saw Leo’s heartbeat for the very first time.

Coming from 2 consecutive “I’m sorry, there is no heartbeat” to “That flicker right there, that’s the heartbeat.”

I mean, we’re over the fucking moon to say the least. But still, those lingering feelings of, “You have to be SO careful, just in case” still loomed under our excitement for the next few months.

January 21, 2019 – Our rainbow baby was born! The labor was tough and the birth was even scarier, and that’s a story I’ve written about in a separate post. But he came, healthy and handsome as ever.

These past couple years have been such a beautiful journey. Navigating my new life as a mother is difficult, exciting, overwhelming, joyful, frustrating, fun, crazy, amazing and everything in between. And you would imagine that everyday, I would think “Wow, we’re so lucky to have this boy, after going through multiple losses.” But that wasn’t the case for me.

Truth is, for me, it’s never been “motherhood after miscarriage”, it’s just been “motherhood”. Maybe it’s different for others. Once Leo was born, he wasn’t “our first baby after having miscarriages”, he was just “our baby”. Our smart, strong, amazing baby. I don’t look back and think what our life would be like if those babies had lived, and I don’t want to. Because I know that Leo would not be here today if things had happened differently.

It’s not that I’ve forgotten about what we had been through, or that it doesn’t hurt anymore, because I do remember and it does still hurt when I think about it. But it just doesn’t affect my everyday life with Leo. It doesn’t affect how grateful I am to have Leo. I’m not anymore grateful to have such a wonderful son.

 I believe that everything happens for a reason, and had those two miscarriages not been miscarriages, Leo would not exist. And I can’t imagine what my life would be like without Leo. I’m grateful for what I have right now, I never really dwell on what I could’ve had because I know there are divine reasons why I didn’t have it.

A couple months ago, we found out that we’re pregnant again! The truth is, I was terrified all over again. And everyone was super excited to hear the news, but a part of me had that lingering thought “What if it happens again?” Everyone found out EARLY on. It somehow leaked and the whole family knew within a week, and I’m not going to lie, I was mad. It’s not that I wanted to keep this a deep dark secret, but it’s intimate news that I would’ve liked to share on our own time… preferably after the first appointment. 

Just like all the other times, I was dreading this wait for that first ultrasound appointment. Thankfully, I went in and everything was fine. In fact, I’m about 18 weeks pregnant now, and things are looking good! Don’t get me wrong, there’s still a little part of me that worries. There’s still a part of me that knows there’s a small chance that something could happen later. And I know for a fact I’m the only one who feels this way. And that’s what I mean when I say that you do feel a sense of “loneliness” when you’re pregnant after a miscarriage. There’s a part of you that is just a bit worried, when no one else is, so you feel like you shouldn’t say anything. 

So, one thing I want to end with is this:

Don’t let others discredit your feelings. It’s YOUR body- your fears or worries or excitement and everything else you’re feeling is valid and just because someone says “stop worrying, you’re fine, it’s not gonna happen, just think positive” doesn’t mean you should hide or bury your fears. You have every right to express your fears, worries, and doubts just as much as your excitement and joy.” -Brittany

Cambria: Expect The Unexpected

“This is story 3 of 10 of LoveYourzStory’s Motherhood Series. 10 mothers give us a glimpse into a small portion of their motherhood journey. I am so grateful that these 10 women gave me the opportunity to share their stories on my platform. Though they focus on different topics, each mother has gone through challenges that tested their strength, patience, and sense of self. Thank you again for sharing.” -Marinelle, LoveYourzStory

This is Cambria’s story, written in her own words:

“When I found out I was pregnant I had so many mixed emotions. I was 25 years old and still figuring out what I wanted to do with my life. I had a decent job and a stable income, but kids were definitely not in my plans at that time. I was about 4-5 weeks along when I first found out I was pregnant. I remember I had gotten this really bad cramping which usually never happens to me. I hadn’t gone to the doctor yet to confirm my pregnancy so I wasn’t really sure what was happening. I ended up fainting from the pain and ended up pressed against the tile on my bathroom floor. Somehow, I managed to get myself undressed and threw myself into the shower while hyperventilating. It took me what felt like 30 minutes or so to get back to normal and gather myself together. After fainting, I already felt like this was a bad omen and I was not ready to have this child. 

I didn’t tell my parents about the pregnancy yet, but after that incident I felt the need to come clean to my mom. Me and my mom are very close, but for some reason I just felt so nervous telling her about what happened. After telling her about the whole situation, it comforted me a little bit just knowing that my boyfriend, Mark, and I weren’t the only ones keeping this secret. But I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep the pregnancy. I just wanted some reassurance to know that she wouldn’t be disappointed in me or I didn’t feel like I was going to be a burden to my family if I were to go through with it. My mom has always been supportive of anything I chose in life, but I knew this was going to be pushing it a bit. I initially told her I was going to make an appointment to get an abortion and I would schedule it sometime later that week. 

I vividly remember calling the Kaiser advice line to schedule my appointment and asked them if I could decide whether or not to go through with the abortion the day of the appointment. They straight up told me that I needed to know before scheduling the appointment so I ended up freaking out and told them I would call them back. I called Mark after and cried, telling him I didn’t know what to do. I gave him the run around about making the appointment because I felt in my heart that I didn’t want to give this pregnancy up. It wasn’t like I was a teenager anymore, I had just graduated college and I felt like I was ready for my next steps in life. After talking to Mark about our options, he saw that I really wanted to keep the pregnancy and after days of  going back and forth I finally made my first prenatal appointment. This would be the start of realizing that no matter how much you plan for things, life will always find a way to challenge you. 

Having a pandemic pregnancy was one of the loneliest experiences I ever been through. I was estimated to be due on January 12, 2021 so I was pregnant right when the pandemic started. I didn’t get to see my family and friends that often while I was pregnant so I felt like I couldn’t celebrate the happiness with my loved ones. Fortunately, I was still able to work but I would just work and go home and do it all over again. At times it did get a little lonely so I enjoyed going to work for socialization.

 Although, I didn’t mind staying home and enjoying my own space especially since COVID was at its peak. I wasn’t allowed to bring my boyfriend during my appointments or to ultrasounds, so it felt like I was doing everything by myself. On top of that, I wasn’t able to go to any lamaze classes, so I was super unprepared for birth. I had to resort to asking my sister in-law, Jayna, for advice and look at pregnancy posts from Instagram and TikTok. But even with all those resources nothing would mentally and physically prepare me for having a baby.

During my research, I knew having a premature baby was a possibility, but I never thought it would happen to me. I would workout and stay active, drink water, and take my prenatal vitamins religiously. I felt like I was doing everything right and I thought I was having a somewhat healthy pregnancy so far. It wasn’t until I was at work and I started getting cramps throughout my 10 hour shift. I had a lot of back pain throughout my pregnancy so I didn’t think much of it. I thought about just going home early from work but me being the stubborn person I am, I ended up staying the whole time.

On my drive home after getting off, I remember wincing in pain and taking deep breaths while trying to stay composed because the pain was getting unbearable. I called the advice nurse and they told me if it gets worse I should call back and they might have to admit me into the emergency to see what was going on. I had the hardest time falling asleep that night. I was constantly tossing and turning until around 2 in the morning. I couldn’t take the pain anymore and Mark made me call the labor and delivery nurse to see what I should do next. They told me it sounds like I could be having contractions and to go there right away.

Me and Mark went to the ER unprepared, coming only with our keys, wallet, and water bottles in hand. The nurse who checked us in laughed as we came empty handed while the family ahead of us brought overnight bags and a car seat. She said, “Wow you guys packed light.” We laughed nervously realizing that it did not occur to us at all that I could have a baby within the next couple of days since I wasn’t due for another 2 months. As the doctor came in to check me she said I was 1 cm dilated and that I was lucky I came in when I did or I would have been further dilated. I found out I was in preterm labor. They gave me medication to slow down the contractions and a steroid injection so my baby’s lungs could mature faster in the womb before being born and if they were effective I could potentially go home. 

A Doctor came in and talked to me about the possibility of having a premature baby and how a baby born at 32 weeks would definitely need to stay in the NICU at least until they reach full gestation which is around 40 weeks. I just remember bawling my eyes out because I was so sad to have to leave my baby in the hospital and I wouldn’t be able to take him home. Mark reassured me he would be in good hands but I was so crushed at the thought of not being with my baby for such a long time.

After my first dose of medications the contractions decreased and I could finally sleep comfortably for at least a couple of hours. The next morning I felt a lot better, my contractions slowed down and the doctor said I could be monitored and transferred to the neonatal floor and eventually be discharged to go home. I was so happy because it meant that my baby’s birth would be delayed by at least a couple days if not hours. A couple days didn’t seem like much but when your baby is born premature every second spent in the womb is crucial, as told to me by the Doctor. Hours passed and I was exhausted by being checked on by the nurses and doctors every 2 hours, but everytime they came in I was feeling much better in hopes that I could finally go home.

 It wasn’t until I started getting contractions again and I was further dilated at 3-4cm. That’s when everything started to speed back up again. After they saw how dilated I was, the nurse told me I needed to be transferred back to the labor and delivery floor. I remember feeling contractions more often than before. I remember her talking to me and saying, “It looks like you’re going to have this baby today,” and I was so scared for what was to happen next. I was in so much pain that I was like “Okay, whatever, how can I make him come out faster?” But the thing that stuck with me was when the Doctor came in to talk to me prior to giving birth and told me,”It’s not your fault.” I didn’t get that until later. There’s a lot of guilt that comes when having a premature baby. I felt like my body failed me. I felt like I wish I could have done something different, I wasn’t sure what that was but it broke me knowing that I couldn’t keep my baby inside me long enough for him to be healthy.

I was so mentally and physically exhausted that all I really wanted was to fall asleep but the contractions were getting closer and closer to each other that I knew for a fact this baby was coming soon. I kept asking for pain medications but they had given them to me so often that they were starting to wear off quicker and quicker to the point where the nurses told me there was nothing else they could give besides doing an epidural. I was too scared to do an epidural because of all the horror stories I’ve heard before of people getting paralyzed after giving birth because of it, so I refused it. The nurses respected my wishes and tried to make me as comfortable as possible. At some point I was having such bad contractions that I couldn’t even call the nurse for help because the pain was that bad. 

Things started to speed up a bit and the Doctor informed me that they were going to prep the delivery room for me. I constantly nodded my head in response to everything because I couldn’t really think straight but I wanted them to know I was aware of what was going on. I remember being wheeled in the delivery room and there were so many nurses surrounding me and it looked like there was a lot going on. Once I reached about 6-7cm the doctor decided that I could either wait for my water to break or they could break it themselves to speed up the process. I told them to pop it so I could get it over with because I couldn’t take the pain anymore. Once my water was broken, I pushed for a couple of minutes but nothing was happening. 

The doctor said that he didn’t like what the baby’s heartbeat was looking like and if I didn’t push him out soon they would have to intervene. To be completely honest, I was so out of it that I don’t even remember what was happening. All I knew was that if I didn’t push this baby out they would have to intervene and in the moment I absolutely did not want to get a C-section, so I started to push as hard as I could. The other doctor then coached me while in labor to push my baby out by holding my breath for 10 seconds while I was having a contraction. I did just that and then about 15 mins or so later my baby was finally born. 

Later I learned that that was the most incorrect way to push a baby out. You’re not supposed to hold your breath, you’re supposed to breathe through it and let it come out naturally but they were so pressed on getting him out that I didn’t really have a choice. I pushed so hard that my eyes were bloodshot and I got freckles on my face from breaking so many blood vessels. The bloodshot in my eyes didn’t go away for weeks. I looked so scary.

All I could really remember was saying “HI BABY” a hundred times and trying to rub all of the white stuff over his body because I heard that it was good for their skin. Then he was whisked away and went off to get weighed and measured then went straight to the NICU. After giving birth and getting a second for me and my baby to get settled the nurses mentioned to me that we could go visit him but this would be the only time we could see him together because of COVID. After that only one parent was able to visit per day. 

At the moment I actually liked the fact that there were COVID restrictions and not that many people could come in because I felt like this was such an intimate moment. I wouldn’t want so many people in my delivery room while I was giving birth so I wasn’t really upset. It was after my birth experience that I wished my mom was there with me. She would know how to calm me down and check on me while I was having contractions and overall she would just know what to do. Mark barely knew what to do when it came down to it because we just were not mentally prepared for this early birth and on top of that he was sick so he wasn’t even in the right headspace himself. 

We walked down to the NICU and saw him in his incubator with all the wires and mini cpap over him and his little IV line attached to his arm. We weren’t able to carry him because his oxygen levels were low at the time so we stuck our hands inside to hold him. When I saw Jojo in the incubator for the first time it truly felt unreal. I was fine seeing him attached to all the machines because I knew that those were helping him thrive outside the womb but I was so sad that I couldn’t hold him that first time and actually get to see what he looked like. Mark took pictures shortly after he was born during his weight check so I would just stare at those for hours so I could just imagine what he looked like. I just couldn’t believe how small he really was. He was so tiny at 3 lbs. 

It was so unbelievable what just happened. I went back down a couple hours later while Mark rested during his touch times where the nurses check his vitals and I finally got to hold him in my arms since giving birth. I would soon find out that that would be one of the last times I would get to see him in person. They laid him on my chest and I couldn’t believe he was mine.

After coming back in the room, I later found out that Mark was coming down with a headache and wasn’t feeling well. He let the nurses know and they suggested that he leave and get tested for COVID just in case. After he left I was alone in my room until the next morning. I couldn’t have visitors due to COVID, so once again I was alone. I couldn’t even go to see my baby because I was at risk of having COVID, so I just stayed in my room until I was able to be discharged the next day. About a day after arriving home, I noticed I was starting to have a cough. At this point Mark had come back positive for COVID so I knew for sure I had it too. 

I let the doctors know at the NICU our situation and they said it’s best for us not to come in until we’ve had our 2 weeks of quarantine. I was crushed. I was so angry at Mark for giving me COVID, but I knew there was nothing I could do at that point. The NICU nurses allowed me to FaceTime Jojo everyday for two weeks until I could actually see him in person. It felt surreal to me that I just had a baby because I was finally home, but it was just me there. On top of that, Mark couldn’t be with me either because we were both in quarantine. It seemed like the loneliness never stopped. I was also worried that my baby wouldn’t know who I was because the first days after birth were so crucial for bonding that I was feeling so shitty at the fact that I couldn’t be there. Nonetheless, I continued to keep myself fed and hydrated so that when the time came, I would be healthy enough to see my son. 

Pumping in general was never a challenge for me. I always heard of people having a hard time pumping and producing milk but that was never the case for me. My only concern was that because I had COVID, I didn’t know if it was still safe for me to give my milk to my baby. The Doctor’s told me it was actually beneficial and I should be giving it to him not only for the health benefits it has but so it could potentially provide antibodies from the COVID virus. I didn’t think much of that until I noticed that my milk was turning green. At first I thought that my milk was getting spoiled but I wasn’t sure why it would be spoiled if I was handling it properly. Then I saw a post on Instagram talking about how breast milk turns colors when moms get sick and provides antibodies for your baby. I was in such awe about how amazing mothers’ bodies are and how our bodies were made to sustain a baby’s life. 

At last my two week quarantine was up and I would finally be able to hold my baby again for the first time in 2 weeks. I was so happy to see him after only seeing him through a screen. He was so plump and had so much more hair than I remembered. He was growing so fast and I remember him always smiling when we FaceTimed, but I cried the first time I got to see it in person. I knew there were so many angels surrounding him in the NICU that would keep him safe and looked after him while I couldn’t be there with him. I hated leaving him so I would stay there without eating just so I could be with him all day. Leaving Jojo was the hardest, but I knew the day would come when I could finally bring him home. 

Throughout those two weeks I got to see him, he was doing so well. The nurses said Jojo was their favorite because he was such a good and well mannered baby. I’m sure they said that to all the moms, but it made me so happy to know that he was doing so well without me there. One of the qualifications for them to be a NICU graduate was that they had to maintain their weight and hit at least 5 lbs. Everyday he grew so strong, he ate so well, and eventually he didn’t have to eat through his NG tube. Everyday was a celebration and every milestone hit from then on out was exciting. When Jojo was hitting all his milestones I felt like we were always just one step closer to him coming home. I wanted him to come home before Christmas so he wouldn’t have to celebrate another holiday in the NICU. I was so excited when I saw that he was gaining weight everyday and he finally got his NG tube out. All these little things could be checked off the box and he would eventually be a NICU graduate.

The day Mark and I finally got to bring him home, we were so nervous but ready to start this new chapter of our lives. Once our baby was in the stroller and we were on our way to our car we looked at each other and said, “Now what?” 

It wasn’t until we walked out the hospital with him that day that he got discharged that it finally hit me. I felt like I was on my own now and there were no nurses to help me. I was really on my own and all the knowledge I got from the NICU nurses I would actually have to apply and eventually teach Mark how to do the same. I developed PTSD from hearing the machines go off and I was more paranoid than ever knowing that now as he was coming home, there was no way I could tell that he was breathing on his own other than physically looking at him and seeing his chest move up and down. Now that we’re past that and he’s sturdy and is doing things an almost 1 year old should do, it hits me every once in a while that he’s a whole human being and I have to take care of him everyday for the rest of my life.” -Cambria

Savannah: And Then There Were 2

“This is story 1 of 10 of LoveYourzStory’s Motherhood Series. 10 mothers give us a glimpse into a small portion of their motherhood journey. I am so grateful that these 10 women gave me the opportunity to share their stories on my platform. Though they focus on different topics, each mother has gone through challenges that tested their strength, patience, and sense of self. Thank you again for sharing.” -Marinelle, LoveYourzStory

This is Savannah’s story, written in her own words:

Savannah, pregnant with Sebastian (May 2021)

“Finding out I was pregnant with my first child was a complete shock initially. I had just become my mom’s caretaker full-time after she was involved in a horrific car crash. She was hit head on at the top of Mansell & Visitation. She had just made the left turn going towards Persia Ave. when within seconds, an SUV comes barreling towards her. With nowhere to go, she braced for impact. The driver of the vehicle that hit her passed away instantly. She was able to get herself out of the car and to call 911.

I arrived on the scene and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I thought she was gone. Luckily, she was alive but with internal injuries. I went with her in the ambulance and she spent a couple days in the ICU after having emergency surgery. Then she stayed 2 weeks in the hospital. When she came home I became her caretaker/nurse, and that is when I found out I was pregnant with my first son, Santiago.

My cousin, who was already pregnant, came to visit one day, and as we were talking I looked in the mirror and made a comment about feeling bloated. She came out of left field by saying “It’s cause you’re pregnant.” I laughed and said, “What! No way!” I went home that night, stopped by Safeway, and grabbed the digital test. When I got home I took the test and within seconds YES+ popped up on the screen. I was nervous, anxious & confused… wasn’t I on the pill? More on that another time ha. I immediately thought, “I am having this baby. I am not getting an abortion.” I unfortunately had been through that once before at 19 and it was an awful feeling and horrible situation I found myself in.

After my one and only abortion, I told myself I would never have another. And here I was staring at a positive pregnancy test. I suppressed any negative feelings and started accepting that this was my new reality. On top of taking care of my mother I was now going to become a mother for the first time! My boyfriend of 9 years(now), 6 years at the time, was just as shocked but extremely happy. I knew this was meant to be.

Telling my family was easy just due to the fact of what my cousin said right in front of my mom. It made it less stressful. The person who affected me the most was my stepdad, I thought he would be a bit judgmental. He was anything but, I told him in front of my best friend and mom and he gave me a big hug as I cried and he said, “This is great! A baby is a beautiful thing.” And he’s been the best grandfather to Santiago since.

During my pregnancy with Santiago I was under an immense amount of stress and pressure. I had to take my sister, who was 12 at the time, to and from school, volleyball practice, and anything in between. I drove my mom to appointments, helped with in-home physical therapy, and changed and dressed her open wound. It was a lot, and I believe that stress is partly a reason as to why I had Santiago 6 weeks early.

It was August 24th and my cousin’s bachelor party. My boyfriend was out with them and I was with my cousin, the one who was also pregnant with me but just had her baby a month prior. I was at her house with my sister and mom just hanging out. It had started to get late so we headed home. When I got home I got ready for bed, laid down and turned on my side when I heard a POP! And a gush of water came out. I thought I peed on myself. I called my mom who I was just with and told her. She immediately told me that my water had broken and to go to the hospital. I then called my boyfriend to come home. Now he was drinking so he had to Uber and I had to wait. When he got home he couldn’t believe it and thought I was making it up so he could come home faster. Lol men!

I end up having to drive to my own labor. We got there, and pre-Covid times everyone met me there. My cousin, mom, sister, stepdad – everyone who was at the party almost! They first assessed me and sure enough my water had ruptured almost completely. I was just dumbfounded and so so scared. I laid in the triage room staring at the ceiling, so nervous for how the next hours would go. I didn’t know what contractions felt like, or pushing a baby out. I hadn’t even watched any birth videos, it was all just BAM! Here we are.

By this time, luckily my mom’s health had gotten almost 100% better. Her stomach wound had healed. She was still in a walking boot but she was able to drive and take care of herself more and more. That had made me a bit concerned because now I would need to have all my attention on a NICU baby. But he luckily came at the “right/wrong” time.

I was 34 weeks and 1 day and this was my first step into motherhood – delivering a premature baby. I was a wreck! I was so confused, how could this happen? What did I do wrong? They wheeled me into the delivery room and prepped me for labor. Here it was my journey into motherhood and I was truthfully… scared. I had gotten there at 3am and around 6am they came in and “induced” my labor by giving me Pitocin in my IV. As the contractions started getting more and more intense, they reduced the Pitocin as my body was doing most of the work now.

Around 1:30pm I believed it was time, but my nurse came in and asked if I wanted an epidural. My immediate answer was NO but she pushed and pushed. Me being immature and not educated, I said ok. As soon as they started it, something was wrong, I passed out and the pain was excruciating – worse than contractions! I had to yell to stop and cuss them out a bit because they just weren’t listening. I finally got them to stop and as soon as I laid down out came Santiago with 2 pushes!

Santiago as a newborn (September 2018)

Looking back on that, it was extremely scary, The fact that Santiago was in the birth canal descending down as I was getting a needle pushed in my back. I should’ve been pushing already not getting an epidural. I am so glad it did not work because I can do it without the drugs. I have now done it twice and with each new baby I will always do it epidural free.

With Santiago on my chest and the doctors down there working on me, I truly felt like it was a high I had never felt before. I did it! I just had my first baby. I felt that bliss for maybe 30 mins when they had to whisk him away to the NICU. My boyfriend and Mom went and stayed by him while I finished up. By the time I was able to finally hold him again it was midnight and Santiago was born at 1:55pm. To say that was a bit traumatizing is to say the least. A first time mother away from her baby skin to skin for almost 10 hours. As for why he was away from me for so long, is just the fact that he needed a little bit of help with his breathing. We had about 30 mins skin to skin after birth and they noticed he was breathing rapidly, so they had to assess him and put him on CPAP.

CPAP is high flow air to help the surfactant that was immature. Surfactant is what we naturally make to inflate our lungs. As I was getting cleaned up and moved to my postpartum room, I got to go back and see him multiple times but I did not get to hold him until around midnight. He was so tiny and I had never been in a NICU setting before and didn’t know the protocol. I was scared to ask because it is extremely intimidating but when I finally did speak up they said, “Of course you can hold your baby.” And with that they opened the incubator and grabbed all the wires and gently placed him on my chest. It was a surreal feeling I can feel to this day.

Our NICU stay was not bad at all. I sort of miss that time with him. It was just us: me, Fernando, and Santiago. We had a routine. I slept bedside while Fernando slept in the dad’s room along side other NICU dads. We had entered a world I knew nothing about. It was beautiful yet so so sad at the same time. It had me feeling incredible mom guilt because I kept thinking what did I do wrong – why did my water break completely? I over analyzed the situation and still do. But I came to the conclusion that it was not my fault and something was definitely wrong. I either had live cholestasis – which is when your liver releases a bile and your body goes into saving the baby and will break my water, or I was 2 weeks later than I thought and had a slight early birth. As for the liver cholestasis, my hands, feet, face, and my whole body was swollen. I had carpal tunnel in both arms from my wrist to elbow. It was so painful, and all the symptoms I had pointed to that. But I will never know.

While in the NICU, I was so determined to breastfeed. The night he was born the nurse set me up with the pump and just expected nothing to come out. The goal was to at least start to stimulate my breasts. As soon as I started I saw gold, the liquid gold! The nurse was shocked due to the fact he came early. She thought I wouldn’t get anything yet, but I found out soon enough that I have major over production. Santiago was being fed my breast milk through an NG tube, and the first time we got him to latch the next day was amazing. I cried and cried from happiness and relief.

Breastfeeding Santiago (April 2019)

The first few days, Santi would fall asleep fast and I would be discouraged because in order to go home, he had to feed properly. But I had a wonderful lactation nurse and she helped tremendously and here we are still semi-breastfeeding! He’s “tandem” feeding along with his brother now, 3 years later! The NICU stay was not too bad, there were babies there with worse conditions than mine but the fear is just the same.

Santiago was on CPAP for 72 hours and after that, we just needed him to gain some weight. Santi had a bit of jaundice, and for a second I was worried because if they get higher than a 14 on the jaundice level it can be very scary. Mental issues can happen as for a few other scary things. But for a few days he was in the blue light. Every day a wire would come off and then he was in a big boy crib! We passed the car seat test and CPR test. And on September 6, 2018 at 11:30am we got to go home!

Life with just Santiago was so great. I mean truly having a baby is such a trying but wonderful journey. It has tested me in ways I never thought possible – from friendships to familial relationships – it has had the highest highs and lowest lows. Becoming a stay at home mom at 23 was challenging at times. I felt “FOMO” and was sad that I couldn’t jump when I wanted to. But then I would feel mom guilt when I could. I’m still trying to figure out how to manage life outside of my kids and sometimes I do good and other times I let people down.

Before I had kids and I was just a preschool teacher watching other people’s kids for a few hours a day. I thought “I can’t wait until I have my own. It’s going to be so much fun!” But— I didn’t have to go home with those toddlers and peek behind the curtain lol. Motherhood is a beautiful and ugly mess that some women have the natural instinct for. I knew I wanted a second baby close in age with my first and I think I have the perfect gap. 35 months almost exactly.

I wanted to start trying for my 2nd right before Santiago’s 2nd birthday. As I got off BC I thought it would be a breeze- turns out it was anything but. I thought I would get pregnant within that first month of trying but it took me about 3. I got all the ovulation kits and tested my ovulation and just felt stress from that because it wasn’t happening. As soon as I stopped and allowed myself to relax, I got pregnant. Somewhere in the first week of October – Sebastian was due July 10th a day after my birthday. The irony is, I conceived my son the same time my mother conceived me haha.

I was extremely happy to be pregnant and I hoped for a girl, but I did the blood test at 8 weeks and around 12/13 got the email, and my heart sank. I just knew it would read MALE. Sure enough, there it was. I had a bit of gender disappointment in the beginning as many women have talked about. It’s only because I wanted to be done for a bit. All in all, I do want 4 kids, but I wanted to experience it differently, not all at once. So having a girl right now would’ve allowed me to enjoy both genders, and then later on try for our next two. I wanted Santi to have a sibling close in age and now that I am 3 months in, I’m glad he has a brother. Their little sister will be here one day, and they both can dote on her.

My pregnancy with Sebastian was pretty smooth sailing. Aside from taking progesterone shots each week to ensure I wouldn’t go into preterm labor, since they had no real reason as to why I did with my first, everything was a breeze. The progesterone shots were tough in the beginning. I was injecting them into my upper arm. I don’t have much fat there, so it was mostly muscle I was injecting into. With muscle shots they get really swollen and itchy and it’s so uncomfortable. But as my body got used to them, by the time it was my last one, the itchiness and swelling calmed down. I felt so much more secure with my body. I gained less weight, tried to enjoy every kick, every roll, and every appointment. With Covid, it was hard since Fernando couldn’t come in with me. It felt strange going to the appointments alone, I wanted him to enjoy this just as much as I did, especially because I was there so much as a precaution of my first pregnancy resulting in a pre-term birth.

Although this pregnancy went by swiftly it was not without scares. At my 32 week ultrasound, I found out I had what is called Single Umbilical Artery – meaning the artery from placenta to baby was only one when it’s supposed to be two. That is a rare but also “common” occurrence and normally totally ok. They threw words around like smaller weight, amniocentesis, and more. I said no to the amniocentesis because that can do more harm than good, and from ultrasounds, the baby looked fine. Sure enough, Sebastian was born healthy and chunky!

Preparing Santiago for his baby brother was fun, he really understood that there was a baby growing in mommy’s belly. He realized my stomach was stretching and stretching – he kept commenting on how big it was! It was such a special moment when he would feel his baby brother kick and Santi would just giggle with glee! That part of motherhood is priceless!

The day that Sebastian decided to make his arrival was the day after 4th of July. We had a crazy night of fireworks and BBQ! I woke up with some small cramping but nothing that made me worry. But by midday I had seen some pink blood in my underwear, and I knew it was time. I cried because it was never going to be just us 3 anymore, there was another one coming. How could I love him as much as I love Santiago? I mean I even thought that with my dog Honey haha when it was just us 2 I thought how could I love another thing as much as I do this dog lol. But you can, our hearts are huge and there is so much room to love especially our children!

My water broke around 3:30pm as I was packing my hospital bag and it didn’t burst – the whole sac came out into my pants lol! As soon as that happened though, the contractions were ROUGH, so intense to where I thought “Oh no! I’m not going to make it!” We dropped Santiago off at my mom’s house and rushed to UCSF Mission Bay. I could barely even walk when I got there. When they checked me, I was 6 CM dilated!! That’s wild! I barely felt anything until my water had broken.

As they wheeled me in, the nurses asked me repeatedly if I wanted an epidural. I insisted I did not want one and told them the reason as to why. With every new attendee coming in they would tell each other, “No epidural,” and the new nurse would ask, “Why?” It was so strange to me that they couldn’t take no for an answer, and while contracting I had to answer it over and over until I got upset and sternly told them NO. It makes me feel for women that are either too scared or just don’t know how to advocate for themselves when doctors/nurses push things onto us.

Within 20 minutes, I had progressed to a 10! I had to start pushing, and as they were still setting up, I started! I pushed, and within 15 mins Sebastian Antonio was born! Before the last push they told me, “Open your eyes! Grab your baby!” I opened my eyes, put my hands down and pulled out my baby boy and laid him on my chest. Here I was – from a semi traumatic first birth to my second being a beautiful unassisted birth. I thought I had felt that wonderful high the first time, man… I was speechless. Just being able to have barely any medical interventions was truly a blessing. They didn’t even take him from me until I asked them to weigh him. I didn’t have that with Santiago so it was new to me.

Sebastian as a newborn (July 2021)

After Sebastian was born it was my birthday, and I thought I was fine but I experienced a little bit of postpartum depression. I cried and cried for the first week and a half of his life just because my body felt anxious. I didn’t feel like myself, I was sad even though I just had this amazing birth. I felt unworthy and I had no reason other than immense pressure I put on myself, and crazy hormones running through my body. Through that week and a half, or truthfully whenever I have my moments, Santiago goes with my mom or Nana, his great grandmother. He has a great time with them away from my high energy and sadness. I am so grateful for that but I also feel guilty because I don’t want to be broken for them. I want to be a strong happy mother and be able to push those emotions away and be 100% for them. Mom guilt is such a weird feeling and it’s truly not explainable in a few words.

With my journey now finally at present time, I have enjoyed every second. I am now immersed in newborn coos, tandem breastfeeding, toddler screams lol, and potty training. Being a mom of two isn’t so bad as I may have thought. Santi is at an age where he can help me and wants to help me. He is able to hang out and play by himself while I change the baby’s diaper. It’s a great age gap. Watching Santiago become a big brother has been wonderful. They will be the best of friends and me and their dad are truly blessed with our family right now. I know it’s not yet complete, but it is the best of the best right now.

I do enjoy being a mother, but it’s the hardest role I’ve ever had to take on. I’ve had many roles in my life from eldest sister, student, therapist, to friend, or family, and much much more. But being a mother has tested me in ways I never knew I could. My patience is thin and my self care has taken a back seat. I used to get my nails and eyebrows done almost every few weeks. Now, especially because of Covid, I haven’t gotten to do any of that on a regular basis. I try to keep my skincare routine every night and most nights I’m successful at it. I try to have a bath to myself once in a while, but self care is different now. Now, self care to me is cleaning up and lighting my favorite candle and sitting down on the couch admiring my home. Self care to me is journaling and writing how I feel from day to day. It’s being able to walk onto my deck and smell the fresh crisp early morning air and smile before I start my day. I’m truly lucky if I get all of those in one day, but I know it won’t be that all the time.

I became a mother on August of 2018 and I’ll never stop being one. This is my passion and I truly enjoy it, I don’t see my life any other way and I do not want it any other way. As I navigate through this time, I will always remember that I am never alone, there are women around me walking the same walk. It keeps me grounded and less stressed knowing I’m not the only one! As young mothers, we have the microscope on us, and people are waiting to zoom into our flaws – even our most close loved ones. Give yourself a big hug mama! We got this, our babies will ALWAYS be our babies at the end of day <3!” -Savannah

Sebastian & Santiago (July 2021)

Krizhna & Zarnee’s Journey to Parenthood

Krizhna and Zarnee’s love story began in 2009 at Westmoor High. They started off as friends their first 2 years of high school, but that changed their junior year. They had multiple classes together and always seemed to be partnered up in English class. Krizhna explains how she always saw Zarnee as just a friend, until she realized that he was always there for her in her time of need, even if that meant venting about another guy. The best friends slowly but surely turned into lovers. This was the start of their journey. Zarnee made their relationship official on December 22, 2011 at the local Macy’s. His support and presence – what initally drew Krizhna to Zarnee – would be tested as they experienced parenthood together.

The couple was 4 years into their relationship when they decided to start their family in 2015. They were both barely 20 years old, and knew people would think they were insane to try to have a baby at that age, so they kept it hush hush. They didn’t have an exact reason as to why they wanted to start a family so bad, but knew it was something they both wanted. At the time, Zarnee and his family were not on talking terms, and at that point, he was out of their house for 2 years already. In a way, starting their own family would compensate for his broken family relationship.

During her break one day, Krizhna went to Target to purchase a pregnancy test. Her best friend and co-worker at the time, Kadigah, was actually the first person to know Krizhna was pregnant. She texted a photo of the positive pregnancy test to an ecstatic Zarnee who was doing laundry. Their joy was through the roof, and they were excited to finally have a family of their own.

“I think that was the first time in a while he was genuinely happy,” Krizhna reminisced.

When it came time to telling Krizhna’s family, she felt as though her mother’s intuition kicked in. Krizhna, her siblings, and her mom sat at the kitchen table in their grandma’s 1.5 bedroom inlaw. She explained that she had something to tell them, but her mom already knew before the words came out of her mouth. Her mom was disappointed but was still supportive. She had the “well, it already happened,” attitude and knew that being upset would not change the fact that she was pregnant. Her siblings were shocked, but followed their mom’s lead. They supported Krizhna’s decision to keep the baby and start a family.

At the time, her dad was still in the Philippines. Krizhna jokes that, “thank god,” her mom was the one that broke the news to him. He was astonished. His attitude was similar to her mom’s. He had told Krizhna, “Well, it’s there already. We just have to accept it.” However, her dad took matters into his own hands and messaged Zarnee on Facebook – asking if he had plans to marry his daughter. In the Filipino culture, being married before having a child is seen as an “essential” step. They felt the pressure of feeling like they “had to” get married, but decided that if they were going to get married, it would be on their terms, not because they feel forced into it. Having a baby on the way didn’t mean they had to rush into marriage to do it the “right way.”

The support from her parents and siblings made Krizhna feel more at ease. But she knew she had one more important person to tell on her side – her grandma. Krizhna, her mom, and siblings lived in her grandma’s home. She has always had high expectations for Krizhna, so when she told her she was pregnant, her grandma had no words. She said very little, sighed, and walked away. Her grandma expressed that she should’ve been focusing on going to college instead of starting a family. Her mom tried to talk to her grandma, telling her that there wasn’t much they could do, they have to just deal with it. Still, her grandma’s mind was made. She wanted Krizhna out of the house – she was so disappointed, she didn’t want to see her. So, she left, at about 2 months pregnant.

She moved in with Zarnee, who was living at a friend’s house. He got kicked out of his family home 2 years prior, and now, his pregnant girlfriend was in the same position. Surprisingly enough, Krizhna expected this reaction from her grandma. She knew that once she told her the news, she was most likely going to get kicked out. Zarnee and Krizhna stayed at their friend’s house a little over 2 months, but they quickly had to find their own place. They looked for different places that they could call home, but ended up getting scammed out of an apartment. Their only option was to live out of their car. They were homeless and living in their car for the remainder of her pregnancy. She was about 4-5 months pregnant.

She was never upset with her mom or siblings for not vouching for her to stay to her grandma. Krizhna’s mom was aware of their living situation, and tried her best to sneak them in when she could. Her grandma would work on the weekends and sleep over her patient’s house. On those days, Krizhna’s mom would sneak her and Zarnee into the house and let them sleep over. When it wasn’t the weekends and her grandma didn’t sleep over at her patient’s house, her mom would still find gaps for them to come to the house to shower or eat. From the beginning of their relationship, Krizhna’s family always liked Zarnee. Prior to the pregnancy, he would offer to drive her family places, and in return her mom would cook more food when she knew he would be coming over, knowing his rocky relationship with his own parents. So even though she got kicked out of the house when she told her grandma she was pregnant, her mom and siblings’ support was still apparent, and she was grateful.

Zarnee, on the other hand, was very conflicted about telling his family about the news. He was kicked out of his family home back in 2013. Their relationship was rocky and he didn’t even know if he should tell them that he was going to be a father. His parents also had high expectations for him, and when they realized that he didn’t want to take the college route, they were very upset. They didn’t agree with his life choices and resented him for not wanting to further his education. The route he decided to take was to work and eventually become a mechanic. Zarnee was confused as to why his family didn’t support his choices. He knew that telling his family that Krizhna was pregnant would be another can of worms, and honestly, he didn’t know if he wanted to open it up.

When Zarnee finally reached out to his parents with the news, they didn’t take it well. They voiced how disappointed they were that the two were going to be parents so young. After he broke the news to them and recieved that reaction, Zarnee and his parents both cut off communication. He didn’t reach out to them and they didn’t reach out to him. He tried his best to remain positive and not let his parents’ words get to him. When he and Krizhna got evicted from his friend’s house, they had nowhere to go. Living in the car with his pregnant girlfriend during cold Bay Area winter was getting the best of him. He knew he had to reach out to his family to ask for help.

He called and let them know that he and Krizhna got evicted from their previous living situation. Zarnee expected some sympathy, but instead, he was greeted on the phone with “I told you so’s.” His parents told him that he put himself in this situation by not listening them. It was “his fault” and he had to deal with it. Alone. Zarnee begged his family to take them in, especially since it was around the holidays during winter time. But his parent’s did not budge on their decision. They couldn’t stay at Krizhna’s grandma’s, they couldn’t stay at Zarnee’s friend’s, and now his parents refused to let them stay at their house as well. Zarnee couldn’t believe it. He felt so betrayed and hurt by his parents’ decision. With still nowhere to stay, they tried their best to remain positive.

“I couldn’t believe that my own parents were not concerned that me and my pregnant girlfriend were sleeping in the car,” Zarnee shared. “I felt like I couldn’t do anything right at that moment.”

On the days where Krizhna’s grandma was home and her mom couldn’t sneak her and Zarnee over, the couple would sleep in their car. When they would saved enough money, they would rent hotel rooms so they could sleep comfortably on a bed. Being homeless and expecting their first child put a lot of a stress on them. They really struggled to weather the storm – not only figuratively, but literally as well. The Bay Area winter was taking its toll on the already struggling couple with more rain and freezing nights.

Krizhna remembers January 18, 2016 to be a very rainy – at times even hailing – day. She and Zarnee were really happy to have a hotel room that night because it meant that she could rest and relax on an actual bed. That night, Krizhna started having intense stomach pains, which prompted Zarnee to call the nurse. This angered Krizhna since she was only 31 weeks pregnant. She knew that she had a handful of weeks left until she would deliver, and didn’t see the need to go to the hospital. But since he already called, they took the advice of the nurse and went to the hospital, straight to the Delivery Department.

When they got there, two nurses quickly admitted Krizhna in and wasted no time hooking her up to machines. She remembers being so confused because no one was really telling her what was wrong or what they were hooking her up to. To add to the confusion, she wasn’t asking many questions either. It was all happening so quickly. They waited at the hospital for a couple of hours because they were told that the high risk doctor wouldn’t be coming in until later. Krizhna dosed off, and a few hours later she was woken up by the doctor who informed her that she would have to be transferred to another hospital. Why? Because they didn’t have the proper equipment to deliver her 31 week old baby. They were in shock, a full term pregnancy is usually 37-40 weeks.

Krizhna was transferred to CPMC. And in her room was the isolette, the little plastic crib where they place new born babies. She asked her nurse if she was going to be giving birth anytime soon since the isolette was in the room. Her nurse confirmed that she indeed was going to be giving birth in a matter of days. Krizhna and Zarnee couldn’t believe it. And on January 22, 2016 – 3 days after being transferred to CPMC – they welcomed their first born, Reginald James.

Krizhna remembers how heartbroken she was. After giving birth to Reginald, she didn’t get to carry him. He went straight into the isolette and then to the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit). Seeing Reginald in the NICU was tough. They remember he was so small and thin that they could see his bone structure. When he was born, he weighed 5 pounds, but he started to lose weight and got down to 2 pounds. The first two weeks of his life were the toughest. They didn’t know if Reginald would make it because he was losing so much weight.

“It was really tough,” Krizhna said. “We witnessed him become a needle bag, lose so much weight to where you could literally see his little tiny bones, to having a feeding tube because he didn’t know how to feed with a bottle.”

“The most challenging was seeing him in the incubator getting smaller and smaller,” Zarnee said recalling how he felt during Reginald’s stay in the NICU. “He had a feeding tube, IV, and a lot of monitors attached to him. There was one instance where he kept moving around too much that the IV wasn’t staying still. So the doctor told us that they had to give him a PICC line. They described it to us as a long thin needle that went from the tip of his finger through the arm to his heart. I remember being so worried…”

Reginald was in the NICU from January 22, 2016 to March 1, 2016. In that time, they got in contact with a social worker who was completely unaware that the couple was homeless and living out of their car. The social worker informed Zarnee and Krizhna that they could stay in one of the rooms in the hospital since that floor was vacant. This way, they could be closer to Reginald since his stay at the NICU would be prolonged, and Krizhna had to pump every 3 hours and supply him with food anyways. This way, they didn’t have to worry about the commute or not being by Reginald’s side. Without hesitation, they accepted the offer. Though the circumstances were unfortunate, they were just relieved that they had a bed to sleep on for the time being.

They stayed in the hospital room the whole time Reginald was in the NICU, about a month and a half. In that time, they really wondered what their next steps would be. Where were they going to live? They had a new born baby now, living in a car would not be ideal. Zarnee had just left his previous job, and Krizhna was on unpaid maternity leave. They felt like they were running out of options. It was when Krizhna’s mom asked her what their living situation was going to be once Reginald was discharged from NICU that made Krizhna realize she had no choice but to reach out to her grandma.

Krizhna knew that she had to put her pride and guilt to the side if she wanted a home for Reginald. She knew that enough time had passed, and that her grandma wasn’t that upset with her anymore. There were times before Reginald was born where her grandma visited her at the hospital, giving her food and checking in on her often. When Krizhna told Zarnee that she planned on asking her grandma if they could stay with her, he agreed. He knew that this was the best decision. And after a lengthy conversation with her grandma, she let Krizhna – and now Krizhna’s little family – know that they were welcome to stay at her house once Reginald was discharged. Krizhna’s grandma was not the only one with a change of heart. Zarnee’s parents brought Krizhna comfort food after she had delivered Reginald, and they were slowly on track to building a relationship again. Things were looking up.

With a roof over their heads, their son out of the NICU, and family bonds being rebuilt, Krizhna and Zarnee felt a weight lifted off their shoulders. They were so eager to start and have a family, and now here they were. Unfortunately, instead of feeling complete and happy, Krizhna felt the exact opposite. The day after Reginald was discharged from the NICU, she drowned herself in work. She remembers working 50+ hour weeks to avoid going home and spending time with her son. She didn’t know why she felt so distant and cold towards the baby she and Zarnee both planned for. So, she used work as a distraction.

Postpartum depression hit Krizhna hard. She felt immense guilt and directly responsible for Reginald being born premature. She blames herself for being under a lot of stress, especially because of being homeless, and taking on a new job at 6 months pregnant to make ends meet. Krizhna believes that it was her fault for why Reginald was not carried to term. He was born at 31 weeks and 5 days, Krizhna beats herself up over the fact that she had 9 more weeks to go. She remembers her last month of being pregnant, she was working double shifts almost everyday and doing a lot of physical work like carrying 30-50 pound boxes.

Krizhna remembers one night where she was so upset. She didn’t know exactly why she was irritated and upset, but all she knew was she wanted Zarnee out. Not fully understanding her emotions, she got so frustrated and took her emotions out on her little family. She told Zarnee to take Reginald and leave, stating that she wanted nothing to do with them. Instead of arguing back and being upset, Zarnee held her and let her cry it out. He was still the guy to be there for her and listen after all these years.

“That moment was when I knew I started a family with the right man,” Krizhna said.

It was confusing for Krizhna because she knew she loved Reginald, but a huge part of her felt like she didn’t want to be a part of his life because she caused him so much physical pain by not carrying him to term. She remembers that first month of his life over and over again in her head – how much he suffered, how scared they were, how helpless he was. And she really believed she was the main source and the one to blame for it all. She used work as a coping mechanism because if she worked more, she wouldn’t have to focus on the fact that she wasn’t bonding with her son, she wouldn’t have to see him, she wouldn’t be reminded of the guilt she felt. So Zarnee cared for Reginald for the first 5 months while she worked.

For the first 5 months of Reginald’s life, Krizhna felt no bond with him. It was really hard because she was still living under her grandma’s roof and being surrounded with family. She felt as though she had to put on a front for her family’s sake because depression is not something that is normalized in her family and her culture as well. There would be times where she would be crying about something that upset her or show that she was upset and her family would brush it off like it wasn’t a big deal. Having people treat her postpartum depression like it didn’t exist or was something not to be upset about really bothered her. She knew her family was supportive of her, but she didn’t feel comfortable to open up about her inner turmoil. Krizhna knew they just wouldn’t get it.

There were many times where Krizhna really felt like seeking professional help for her postpartum depression. But she was terrified. Her worst fear was that they would end up taking Reginald away from them because they’d probably deem her “unfit” to care for a child, and then send her off to a mental hospital. She didn’t feel a connection with him and wanted nothing to do with him, but at the same time she knew that if they were to take him away, she would lose it. Looking back, Krizhna knows that her feelings were in conflict with one another. But she wasn’t going to take that chance of Reginald possibly being taken away.

It wasn’t until Reginald was 5 months old that Krizhna started to bond with him. She remembers the event that changed it all. Reginald was about 5 months old and was really sick. He had a high fever and a boil on his bottom. Zarnee and Krizhna had to take him to the emergency room where they cut his skin open to remove the abscesses from the boil. Reginald was crying like she had never seen him cry before. She could tell that he was in pain by how hysterically he was crying and clenching onto her and Zarnee. Seeing him like that made Krizhna’s heart break.

“Seeing him in that position made me realize how much I love him and how I would do anything to take away his pain,” Krizhna said remembering that emergency room visit. “Ever since that day, I grew closer to Reginald and started appreciating the fact that even though he was born early, he is alive and healthy.”

A little after Reginald’s first birthday, the couple had startling news. She was pregnant again. Krizhna was on the pill briefly, but stopped because she was getting bad side effects. She was not ready for another baby. She called her best friend, Karina, and told her about the news. She cried and vented out her frustrations and worries. After the call, she showed Zarnee the positive pregnancy test. He was so shocked that he didn’t know what to say. Krizhna explained to him that she was not ready to have a second child so soon, and she didn’t know if she wanted to keep it. Zarnee supported her in whatever decision she chose, but they both slept on it. The next morning, she still didn’t make a decision.

It actually took a couple of days of going back and forth on the idea of keeping the baby or not. A few days after finding out she was pregnant, they finally came to a conclusion. They were going to follow through with the second pregnancy. What made them sway in that favor? The two of them thought about their first born and how much he means to them. They couldn’t picture what life would be like without him and they loved him so much. Reginald was the best thing that has ever happened to them, so they knew that even though they weren’t ready, they’ll get through it as long as they have each other.

They were both hesitant to tell their families about the news. Not because they thought they wouldn’t be supportive, but because of how her first pregnancy went and how recent it was. When Krizhna finally told her family about the second pregnancy they didn’t react the same way as her first. Her intuition was right. Instead, they voiced how concerned and worried they were about how the pregnancy would go, given that Reginald was born premature. Little did they know that this time around, it would be worse.

Krizhna and Zarnee describe the following events that took place:

 “I had my first prenatal appointment on February 10, 2017 where we had an abdominal ultrasound and saw a healthy heartbeat. Zarnee and I were so happy and relieved. Our doctor told us that my due date was October 5, 2017 and I was even more happy because our baby’s birthday would be close to mine and Reginald’s birthday is close to Zarnee’s and so we felt like it was all meant to be. We started talking to our doctor about what I would do differently this time around to prevent another preterm delivery and we even started guessing what the gender of our baby may be. We were hoping for a girl.

After our ultrasound, we came to accept and embrace our pregnancy, we were filled with joy. I couldn’t wait for my bump to grow and take lots of pictures, have a baby shower – since we didn’t get the chance to have it when we were pregnant with Reginald, for Reginald to be a big brother, to give birth – I was ecstatic.

On February 22 or 23 I believe, I was working one of my double shifts and I had cramps that felt very familiar and I knew something was wrong but I disregarded the pain hoping that if doing so, it would go away? I don’t know, I really don’t know why I had that mentality. I remember it was so painful that I was in the middle of what I was doing and I had to hold my stomach in a fetal position. The pain lasted about 5 minutes. I had a follow up appointment on the 27th and yet had another abdominal and transvaginal ultrasound, but this ultrasound was different from the first one… we no longer saw the healthy heartbeat of our baby… Our doctor didn’t know what or how to say that the baby may not have been alive anymore so he gave us the option of going for a second opinion to see what is going on. I knew right then and there we had lost our baby but Zarnee had hopes so we went ahead and got another ultrasound on March 1 and received the same devastating news. I was numb when she told me that there was no more heartbeat. I felt like I lost a part of me that day.

We went back to our doctor in which he told us that we would need to do a procedure called Dilation & curettage (D&C) to remove whatever part of my baby is in me. He told me that the procedure would take no longer than 30-40 minutes including the rest time. Crazy how fast it is to remove something so precious from me like that. He also gave us the option of bleeding out until clots come out but it would have to come out within a week otherwise I’ll get an infection. He let us know to think over it and call the office back to let them know what our decision was. I didn’t think about it. I told him that I made up my mind and proceeded with the D&C. I didn’t want to bleed out by myself and go through more trauma than what I was already going through. I don’t think I could’ve handled that. He scheduled the appointment for March 3 and he prescribed me 2-3 medications in which I believe one of them was to soften the cervix to make it easier to vacuum whatever is left. I was numb, I was broken.

March 3rd we went in to do a D&C. I was drugged from whatever pill I took but I still felt what was going on and I still knew what was going on but I put up a front in front of Zarnee to distract him from what I was going through because I knew that it broke him seeing me like that. My doctor had come in and I remember seeing this vacuum like machine that he brought in and my stomach dropped. I knew it was time. I knew it was time for me to let go of something that has not been there for a while. I knew it was time. He asked me if I was ready and I said yes but deep inside I wasn’t. I wanted so bad for a miracle to happen but I knew that I was hoping for something that is not going to happen. He did his thing with the vacuum and I remember holding onto Zarnee’s hand so tight because it was painful. I felt the suction of the vacuum and I don’t think the physical pain I felt compared to the emotional trauma I suffered.

Right after the procedure, my doctor said that I was no longer pregnant and everything was out. I died inside hearing that. I did not know what heartbreak felt like until I heard that I was no longer pregnant. I laid in the patient bed for 5 minutes and left. I cried hysterically in the car and we went home and I cried some more. I think I cried for about a week straight. Something in me that day died along with my baby.”

“After hearing our doctor say that there wasn’t a heartbeat anymore, I was very hopeful that there would still be one and that he was wrong. I kept telling myself and Krizhna that there was (a heartbeat). I tried to assure her and myself that from the time we left to the next appointment.

When we got the second opinion, my heart dropped. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. I felt like I got played. I felt crushed. It’s like, there was just a heartbeat and now you’re telling me there isn’t a heartbeat anymore? How could that be? I don’t understand. I didn’t want to understand. When Krizhna got the D&C, it made it so much more surreal that our baby is gone. Dead.

Seeing the doctor use the vacuum to suck out whatever was left of our baby was heartbreaking but what was even more heartbreaking was seeing Krizhna laying down there, sad because there was nothing she could do. Her body is practically being invaded by this tool and I was scared of what could happen to her. When the procedure was done, I didn’t want to leave her side or get her out of my sight because I felt that the least I could do was be there for her after what she had just gone through. That was probably one of the worst days I’ve ever had to this day.”

Krizhna was 4 weeks along when her pregnancy test read positive. When she miscarried, she was about 6-8 weeks pregnant. When Krizhna and Zarnee got out of the procedure, the first person she called was her mom. She cried hysterically on the phone saying, “I lost my baby, I lost my baby.” Her mom advised her to come home. Zarnee also called his parents in the car and when his parents answered, Zarnee lost it. He broke down crying, and they comforted their son saying that everything will be okay.

Krizhna knew that her mom didn’t know what to say or how to comfort her. It was the same with Zarnee’s parents. Nobody knew what to say to make them feel better, and honestly, nothing they could say would make them feel better anyways. By the time they came home, the household was aware of what just happened and they were welcomed with homemade soup from her grandma. Her mom and grandma cared for Reginald all day while she locked herself in her room. She knew that taking care of Reginald while she detached from the world in her room was her family’s way of comforting her. She couldn’t talk about her postpartum depression, and now she found herself in a position where she couldn’t talk about her miscarriage either.

After the miscarriage, Zarnee and Krizhna’s relationship was on the rocks. They were both hurting, but didn’t know how to communicate it or comfort one another. She felt like Zarnee wasn’t hurting from the loss of their child because he wasn’t reacting the same way as her. She acknowledges that Zarnee was trying so hard to understand what she was feeling, but she kept pushing him away. Every conversation seemed to have the same outcome. Whenever they talked, it would turn into an argument, and all of a sudden the miscarriage would be brought up, it would always be followed by silence and tears.

“I don’t know how we got through it,” Krizhna said. “I think it took us a while to be a team again.”

Zarnee handled the miscarriage by going back to work and taking care of Reginald. Having a 1 year old kept him busy, and it also kept him sane. Krizhna recalls only seeing Zarnee cry about the miscarriage once, and that was after the procedure. To her, it seemed like Zarnee didn’t care because he would only talk about it when she would breakdown. She sees now that maybe it was for the best that he reacted that way, because if they were both a “mess,” they couldn’t care for Reginald. Zarnee saw Reginald as his strength during this difficult time.

“Having him kept me sane,” Zarnee admitted. “He made me want to fight and get through it… Even though he doesn’t know it, he really saved me when I was going through it.”

After their miscarriage in 2017, Zarnee and Krizhna started trying again in 2018. And to their surprise, they were pregnant again in April. However, in a span of 3 days, they found out that she was pregnant and then she wasn’t. She knew she was pregnant so she went to the doctor. They did a blood test on her twice to confirm she was pregnant. Her HCG levels were dropping, which meant she was miscarrying. She was exhausted. However, the 2nd miscarriage didn’t effect her as bad because she didn’t get to hear the heart beat, and she wasn’t as far along. But, it did still hurt them. They were discouraged and didn’t want to even talk about trying again.

But a year later in June 2019, she found out she was pregnant again for the 4th time. When she found out she was pregnant, she took a pregnancy test everyday until her 8 week appointment. That was her way to make sure she was still pregnant, and it brought her and Zarnee peace of mind. They were so excited to be pregnant again, but didn’t want to show it. They were very hesitant with being excited, in fear that they would miscarry again. They just didn’t want to have false hope after everything they’ve been through.

Because of their past experiences with miscarrying, they only told a handful of people they were expecting the first 3 months of being pregnant. Krizhna’s mindset was : if I miscarry again atleast I only have to explain it to only a couple of people. But when she reached 16 weeks, she knew she was in the clear to let the secret out of the bag! Now they were beginning to get excited again after 2 years of back to back heart break.

This pregnancy was so different than when she was pregnant with Reginald. Krizhna was nauseous all day everyday, hated the smell of fried food, and was exhausted all the time. She had to take progesterone, a pill that makes sure the baby attaches, and take it vaginally. They would go to bi-weekly appointments to make sure that the baby was okay, given her history of pregnancy. This time around, every little pain she had, she would go to the ER. She was taking no chances. Zarnee was very over protective and made sure that Krizhna was taking it easy and eating all the right foods.

On January 10, 2020, Krizhna was at work when she started to have really bad contractions. She managed to finish her shift and went home. That night, her contractions were so bad that Zarnee took her to the hospital. They informed her that she was only 1 cm dialted, and sent her back home to rest. The next day, her contractions intensified. She really couldn’t take it anymore and her parents couldn’t stand to see her in pain. By 8 PM she was at the hospital and Zarnee met her there coming from work. She was 6 cm dialted, and they informed her that she would be giving birth in the next 24 hours. She was only 34 weeks pregnant and had another month to go.

On January 12, 2020, Mia Alea-Luna was born. This time around she got to hold Mia before they put her in the isolette and to the NICU. Krizhna remembers how much more smaller Mia was compared to Reginald, and this made them worry. Having their 2nd born in the NICU made them nervous. And this time, they didn’t have the housing that came with Reginald’s NICU stay. It was harder because once she was discharged, she would have to pick up Zarnee from work at night and they would visit Mia. Reginald wasn’t allowed in the NICU, so they had to wait until he was asleep to visit as well. Fortunately, Mia only stayed in the NICU for 2 weeks.

Krizhna still experienced postpartum depression after her 2nd child was born. But this time was different. With Reginald, she didn’t want to be around him or connect with him. But with Mia, she was very overprotective. She believes this shift happened because she felt so guilty about how she felt after Reginald was born, that she didn’t want to act like that towards Mia. And it wasn’t because she loved Mia more, but because she knew that Reginald was old enough to witness everything. She didn’t want him to see a disconnect between her and his new sister, in fear that it would traumatize him. And most importantly, she sought help. She sees her therapist once a month and is taking medication for her depression and anxiety.

Their parenthood journey has not been easy. They have faced a lot of heartbreak together. Krizhna and Zarnee try to celebrate the first miscarriage by just being together as a family for what would’ve been the baby’s due date. They don’t celebrate the 2nd miscarriage because they never knew what the due date was since she miscarried very early on. 2 years after her 1st miscarriage, Reginald would always tell Krizhna that he would see his brother. There would be times that he would be alone in the room saying “I’m playing with my brother,” and instead of being scared, it comforts Krizhna, knowing that their baby is still around them. They never got to find out what the gender was either.

“Take all the time you need to mourn your loss,” Krizhna advises other parents who have miscarried. “It is more common than you think it is. You are not alone.. even though it feels like it right now you’re not alone. The loss of a child you never got to meet and hold is something you’ll carry with you for a very long time and  although it’ll hurt being reminded of what happened, you are resilient. You will get back up again. As each day passes it’ll hurt less than the day before but the sadness when you’re reminded of it is going to be there so do whatever you need to do to heal – whether it be celebrating the anniversary of the miscarriage or the due date or talking to someone who shares the same experience. There’s always a rainbow at the end of the storm.”

And Zarnee and Krizhna definitely got their rainbow at the end of their storm. They are now raising their beautiful children together in Zarnee’s childhood home. Once Mia was born, they desperately looked for houses that they could call home. There just wasn’t enough room in Krizhna’s grandma’s 1.5 bedroom inlaw. Zarnee knew how important it was for Krizhna to have her family with her, so they searched for houses that fit everyone’s needs. They toured about 10 houses in a span of 1 month, but nothing felt like “the one.”

One day, after touring yet another home, Zarnee went to his parents’ house to pick something up. He updated them that they still didn’t find a house. It was then that his parents asked if they wanted to live in the old family house, and even extended the offer to Krizhna and her family to come along. Zarnee couldn’t believe what his parents were telling him. He gladly accepted the offer, and went home to tell Krizhna and her whole family. He was so happy that his kids would have enough room to run around and for each member of the family to have a room and bed to sleep on, rather than the floor. Zarnee loves the fact that his kids get to grow up in the same house he grew up in.

“To this day, I thank my parents every time I leave their house of the blessing they gave us,” Zarnee explained.

Zarnee and Krizhna have been through hell and back with each other. They never expected that their journey to parenthood would have so many twists and turns. They mended family relationship, they went through heartbreak, they witnessed their children in the NICU, they went from homeless to home owners, and never gave up on each other even in their darkest times. Their main focus now is to raise their children together and be there for them. They embrace every part of their journey to parenthood because it gave them their most precious gifts – Reginald and Mia.

In 2 Weeks’ Time

One thing we can all agree on: 2020 is a year we will all remember. This year has brought so much chaos, pain, confusion, and a lot of change. From the COVID-19 pandemic, to Sheltering in Place, to police brutality, to protests, to wearing masks on a daily, to shutting down (again), to California fires, to COVID-19’s 2nd wave, to highly favored celebrities passing away, and all the above. Whatever plans we had for 2020 clearly changed when all this went down. I had to learn to be adaptable, to pivot, to not cling to any specific plan because I knew with the pandemic’s end nowhere in sight, everything is unpredictable. Sheltering in place from mid-March until the end of May really had me living day by day, having no idea what would happen in the next month, or even the next day.

Sheltering in place and 2020 in general has also brought a lot of change for my best friend group and I. I feel like in one way or another, everyone is walking out of 2020 a completely different person. There is so much change that has happened / will happen in the next couple of months. But let me rewind it back, before decisions were made and tears were shed. In blog post #32: “Time,” I ended the post by saying I could feel change coming soon. That was towards the end of February. I felt change coming just over the horizon. Something in my gut was telling me things were about to shift, and I couldn’t have been more right.

Sheltering in Place was something so new to all of us. Do we have enough food? How long are we supposed to do this for? What’s the plan after? Should we stock up on everything? Is everything shutting down? So we can’t hangout with other people? When can I leave the house? Here we are about 6 months later, and the policies and regulations are not going anywhere. Nobody thought it would last this long. The first 3 weeks of official shutdown was the hardest for me. It’s like I was relieved I got to chill and relax, but I was concerned about the state of the world. I had no idea how long this would last or when the next time I could see my friends. After all, what’s 3 weeks off when you can’t go anywhere or see / hangout with people you want to? It’s one thing to be a homebody and be antisocial from time to time, maybe even all the time, but it’s another thing when you are being told you can’t leave.

My friends and I tried to cope by downloading apps like Houseparty and Zoom. We really tried our best to set up meetings so we could catch up and check up on each other. We wanted to make sure that we were all there for each other – whether that be to talk about personal issues, anxieties, or just to keep each other company during these confusing and lonely times. At first, it was all about Houseparty and playing games. It gave us something to do and something to look forward to. Especially since with time, sheltering in place made every day look exactly the same. We would set up little game nights or Zoom calls.

In the beginning, it was literally all fun and games. Until, Cam and I had suddenly had decisions to make. And when I mean “suddenly” I mean for real suddenly, all this shit came out of nowhere. For me, an opportunity came up where I could move out of my family home without worrying about any added responsibilities but still gaining some independence. It would also be an opportunity for me and Christian to take the next step in our relationship. For Cam, she had just taken a pregnancy test, and it was positive. We have joked for years that Cam would be the first in the group to have a baby, and finally, our predictions were true. Cam and I were both at a crossroad.

For most people, my predicament wouldn’t even be a tough decision. But for me, I was scared. For one, in the Filipino culture, it is frowned upon to live with your significant other before marriage. But I have always told myself I would never marry someone without living with them first. This decision really brought to my attention how scared I am of change and how I fear commitment. Which is ironic, because I have always been very traditional, in the sense that I wanted to graduate college, get a job in my field, get married, and have a family. But here I was, in the middle of a pandemic, not where I want to be in my writing career, not even knowing when I would have the opportunity to even get a job in the journalism field.

On top of that, I had a time limit to make up my mind whether I would take the once in a lifetime housing opportunity or not. The feelings of being overwhelmed took over me. This would be a great little baby step in figuring out if marriage was in our cards, especially since we have been together for over 5 years. Not to mention a great opportunity for our future together. But I was scared. I would be the first in my family to move out and change the status quo. I wasn’t feeling confident in my choices – if I said no, I’d regret it for the rest of my life, but if I said yes, what if it doesn’t work out the way I planned? I was also scared shitless to bring it up to my parents. How would they react? I desperately wanted their support, but couldn’t get the right words out of my mouth to sell it to them.

Meanwhile, Cam and Mark were having similar issues. Were they ready for this responsibility? Cam had just graduated from SFSU, earning her degree, so technically she was at an okay stage in her life. But was she ready for this? Mark is in the thick of starting his business and working on getting known and having connections. Would a baby put those dreams on hold? Everything was up in the air. And Cam and Mark really had to weigh out their pros and cons, for this was a big decision – bringing another life into the world. Having a baby meant that their days of focusing on just themselves and their relationship would be a thing of the past. Were they ready to take the next step in their relationship?

The girls and I had our Zoom call. Up until this point, conversations about both of these topics were either through group chat or on the phone. It felt good to see each others’ faces and hear advice and feedback. On my end, there was a lot of venting, going back and forth on why I was conflicted on making a decision. I did a lot of ugly crying, snot dripping, and heart pouring that night. By the end of my rant, I was leaning towards no. I wasn’t ready to leave my family home, this isn’t how I pictured moving out to be. I felt under pressure. This time frame wasn’t enough time to decide a life changing event. So, my answer would be no. And whatever happens from my decision being no is just how it was meant to be. I was exhausted. My friends supported whatever decision I chose, but they did give their 2 cents on why it’s a great opportunity. I heard what they had to say, but dismissed it. I was too scared. I’d never grow the courage in time to do it and follow through. I knew it would put a huge strain on my relationship, but at this point, I didn’t care and if things were to fall apart, “it just wasn’t meant to be.”

I calmed down, wiped those tears away, and after about 45 minutes of my friends just watching and hearing me cry and vent, we moved on to Cam’s situation. Cam was the opposite of me. She was level-headed, calm, and didn’t seem too conflicted. Which was so surprising to me, because my situation was nothing compared to hers. She caught us up on her and Mark’s train of thought. They weren’t ready. They still wanted to do things like travel, get the business on its feet, get a better job in her field, etc. Now would not be the best time to have a baby. Cam said they were leaning towards no. There was a silence in the chat. We supported our best friend in whatever she wanted to choose. It’s her body and her life. But I will say it was so obvious that all of us hoped she would keep the baby. We would always talk about how we wish someone in our group would have a baby so we all can spoil it. We were happy and shocked when she told us her test was positive.

We hoped she would keep it, but we knew that we wouldn’t be living the reality of caring for a child. It would be her reality. It would be Mark’s reality. Only they knew if they were ready or not. And we fully supported our friends in whatever decision they chose. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it looked like she made up her mind. She explained that she planned to make an appointment to terminate the pregnancy. We gave our words of support. It just wasn’t in the cards for them right now. The “MotherFlickers” would have to wait a little while longer for a baby to enter into our friend group.

After a couple of hours on Zoom, we finally called it a night and hung up. Damn. Here I was, feeling like my world has been turned upside down not knowing how it could effect my relationship and my family relationship. I was stressed out. I would wake up everyday, and it would be the first thing I think about. It was all too much. I didn’t want to overthink anymore. But I had to make a decision. This wasn’t in my plan. My plan for 2020 was to find a journalism job, and now, with the pandemic and this new offer on the table, I didn’t know what my plan was anymore. It also made me reflect on why I was so afraid.

I was scared to fail. I was scared of wasting time. I was scared of what extended family would say. I was scared to make a move. And by being so scared, I was making no moves. And that probably is what scared me the most. I desperately tried to cling onto how things have been. But nothing lasts forever. I had planned to maybe move out at 26 and get a place with Christian. But this offer that was right infront of me was once in a lifetime, and put us both in a position where we could save up for our future, live in the most expensive city in the country and still be a 20 minute drive from my family, and not to mention test out the waters in our relationship. What was I waiting for?

I began to realize my fear of commitment. The girl who has talked about marriage since forever, now found herself scared to even take the first step. It’s one thing to talk about the future when you know it’s a few years away. But it’s another thing when you realize, holy shit, the time is now. Suddenly, I didn’t know what to do. Moving in meant that people would expect us to get married ASAP. Was I ready for that? I had to talk myself out of that mindset. I had to remind myself that I was 25, the time is now. Living together will reveal if marriage is the next move. But I’ll never know until I try. I was also worried because if I took the offer, I would be commiting to atleast 2 years in the living situation. What would that mean for journalism? Does that mean that I put my writing dreams on hold for another 2 years? No. It means I should pivote. And I thought up a whole other plan that I can stick to while working as a teacher, but still feel fulfilled as a writer.

If you’re wondering how conflicted and stressed I was, please refer back to Blog Post #41 : “I Saw The Sign.” I wrote that blog post while I was in the thick of my confusion. Knowing the back story now, I’m sure that post will make a lot more sense to my readers. But suddenly, I felt my perspective changing. Who cares if it’s not exactly what I planned? This living situation is even better than my original plan to move out by 26 and get an apartment. I had to force myself to come to terms with the fact that not everything is going to be how I exactly envisioned it. It’s okay to change the plan. It’s okay to switch up the status quo. It’s okay to take a risk. It’s okay if there is no sign, because not everything will.

Meanwhile, Cam called the hospital line to schedule her “appointment.” She talked with an advice nurse who was being very supportive. The nurse asked some questions about if this was a decision Cam was making for herself. She was right about to finalize making the appointment and getting the date and time, but then… she hung up. Suddenly she had a change of heart, and she didn’t want to make any sudden decisions without thoroughly thinking it through.

Was she ready to be a mother and take on that responsibility? On the Zoom call, she told us that her decision was 60 / 40, in favor of terminating the pregnancy. But then she thought of what were the real reasons why she didn’t believe she was ready. She weighed out her pros and cons. Cam knew she was in a position where she could care for a child. She just graduated, she had a stable job, she knew her family is the type to be supportive. But she didn’t know if her and Mark were ready to be parents. Sometimes you don’t know you’re ready until you put yourself in that position.

We scheduled another Zoom meeting – two weeks after our last one. Everyone entered the room and we greeted each other. I broke the news to my girls that I have decided to accept the housing offer. They were shocked but supportive. I honestly shocked myself, because I didn’t think I had the guts to make a decision like that. My friends told me how excited they were for me, but they could see it in my face that I was still a little iffy about my decision. They reassured me that they would always be there, and if things don’t turn out the way I had hoped, it’s okay and it’s just something I had to experience so I wouldn’t regret not taking the offer. I knew they were right. They started to get excited about my place being the new hangout spot, and it made me excited as well. This was going to be a new chapter in my life.

Then it went quiet. “What about you, Cam? How are you?” Suddenly it got serious. Since our last Zoom call, we knew that Cam was scheduling an appointment to terminate the pregnancy. We didn’t know if she had already went through or if it was scheduled. She was very adamant in the last call that it was something she knew she had to do. We asked and tried not to sound sad. Then she broke the news to us.

“So…… we actually decided that we’re going to keep it.”

Everyone’s jaws hit the floor. Everyone covered their mouths in pure shock. Silence. We internalized what was just said, and the silence turned to screaming. NO. WAY. We couldn’t believe it. We all screamed and rejoiced, we were so excited that we were going to have a little one in our group!!!! This was the best news. Of course we would’ve supported our girl either way, but especially the last 2 years, Justine and I in particular, have been itching for one of the MotherFlickers to have a baby that we can spoil. The cover photo is a screenshot I took of our reaction to Cam’s news.

It’s crazy to me that in just 2 weeks’ time, Cam and I made such life changing decisions. It’s even crazier because we had originally said we weren’t going to go through with it at all. And in just 2 weeks, we decided to do something completely different. We were both scared, unsure, and doubting ourselves. We were scared of change and the unknown. But sometimes you don’t know if you’re “ready” for that change, until you actually put yourself in that situation.

2020 brought a lot of change. And things are going to continue to change a lot in our friend group in the next couple of months. I’m so happy that I have the support of my girls to vent to, to share my worries to, to go through life with. The day we have all been talking about is finally upon us. For years we have talked about how we’re going to start adulting and before we know it, we’re gonna have whole ass families and completely different lives. That time is now. And I’m so incredibly excited and giddy for what’s to come. I feel like we all evolved, and broke out of our shells. Change makes you mad uncomfortable, but that’s how you know it’s time. When you realize you’re scared to take the chance, but at the same time you’re also scared to stay in the same position, that’s how you’ll know.

The girl that has feared and avoided change for so long has finally embraced it. And by January 2021, she will have a Godson to share new memories with. In 2 weeks’ time, Cam and I shifted the direction of our lives. And I can’t wait for what life has in store for me and my girls.

The Photograph

**Nancy, I know you said to focus on people that I don’t know, but I promise I will do that AFTER this post… this is a story I HAVE to tell.**

My dad’s mom died over 50 years ago in the Philippines while giving birth to her 8th child. Unfortunately my grandma and aunt both passed away. My grandpa was left with 7 kids, 2 of which were under the age of 7.

Decades passed and my grandpa was alone. He is now 92 years old, going on 93 this July. A little over 10 years ago he remarried. For so long he was alone and single, longing for companionship.

My family, aunts & uncles, & their kids that are free, go to my grandpa and step-grandma’s house every other Sunday. It’s a great way for the family to remain close and for my grandpa to see his kids, grandchildren, and great grandchildren.

One Sunday my aunt brought old pictures. She showed me and my cousins our grandmother, who none of us ever got to meet. My aunt was saying how she thinks she looks so much like her mother and how her other 2 sisters also share some features. There are only a couple of photos I’ve seen of my grandma, so my first thought was to take a picture of the photo.

My grandpa wasn’t really paying attention, he’s 92, so he’s always just chillin’ minding his business. My sisters and I like to show our grandpa pictures on our phone of him from previous events or ones we take right in front of him. He thinks it’s so cool how technology has advanced and still can’t believe that we can take pictures of him on our phones. Every time we show him his picture he starts laughing surprised like “that’s me!”

Anyways, I took out my phone and pulled up the picture of my grandma. I showed it to him and his reaction made me happy and sad all at the same time. Seeing her picture made him eagerly grab my phone out of my hand.

Staring at her picture he said to me in Tagalog, “Where’d you get this? Do you know who this is? It’s grandma.”

Other than when he complains about his back hurting, my grandpa is usually just chill and observant at get togethers. So when he reacted so surprised to see the picture, it touched my heart, because I could only imagine all the memories that photo brought back.

I think that’s a whole other level of love. To lose someone so tragically, and to be alone for so long, to get remarried, but to be so excited to see an old photo made me really happy. I can only imagine what he felt when he saw that picture, but I know that’s exactly how I would want someone to look at an old photograph of me. 20141109_190624

The photo above is the exact photo I showed my grandpa.