It’s four in the morning, I am sitting in silence, waiting for my precious little baby to fall in deep sleep. It’s quiet and my husband is fast asleep. I remember the first two weeks of being home after giving birth. I was exhausted. Naive but excited all at once.  having close to zero confidence about motherhood. Two weeks ago I wanted to cry and break down whenever my newborn cried. Yes, I did some pretty crazy research. Read baby books. But when this child cried infront of me, it was like standing  in a huge arena. Me against this child. All those research flew out the window. I guess you can say motherhood bitch slapped me in the face and the funny thing was that it wasn’t even half of it. I had no clue what I was in for. I thought I did. I was a zombie. Still am but I am managing. I doubted my abilities. I almost thought of giving up. I was afraid. That was two weeks ago. Although I still have no idea what I’m doing most of the time, I got to know this child. He mirrors my husband and I. It’s amazing how love can create such precious little human. Now I stare at him when he sleeps. I always do. And I am amazed of the fact that I was capable of nurturing him. I love him more than anything in this world. I am not ashamed of how I feel about this whole situation as a first time mother. I feel protective.. Most of the time I get a little too over protective actually. I fall in love over and over again when I look at him. I am nowhere near scared any longer. He’s mine.  He’s precious. He makes me love life even more. He brings my husband and I even closer than before. And I know this doesn’t end here. 


Often times many people take their homes for granted. Today I woke up to the smell breakfast. I woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon, and then pancakes. I woke up to my mother telling us that breakfast is almost ready. I woke up in warm sheets of blankets. I smiled. And then I thought of the ones who take these things for granted. I thought of the ones who did not wake up to the same scenery that I woke up to this morning. I sympathize them. In hopes that they would realize the value of having a home. And go home. Don’t take it for granted. Or stop taking it for granted. Because not everybody gets to have something to call a home. Not a lot of people feel warm waking up. Not a lot of people gets to eat breakfast. 


Society will tell you that you’re too skinny. Society will tell you that you’re too fat. Society will make it seem like there is no in between. And then we try to fix it by saying “love yourself for who and what you are. ” but turn around and body shame body types that contradict ours. Why can’t we just say everybody is beautiful without bias? Or why can’t you not say it if you don’t mean it. I think that’s better. If you do not think someone is attractive, then keep it to yourself. We need to encourage peace and love. We need to encourage girls to embrace their own body type. So let them. Just because you don’t think someone is attractive because of their figure, doesn’t mean other people see them the same way. And don’t feel terrible if you don’t find someone attractive by their figure because we all are entitled to our own opinion. I’m not saying you should try to sugar coat things. I’m just saying that if you don’t have any nice things to say, then don’t say anything at all. 


There is so much I want to say to you, but I am afraid of what you will say back. They always say never hold back, and how it’s better to say too much and all, but I am the kind of person who do not ask questions when I’m unsure if the answer is only going to hurt me. Yeah. I don’t like to take risks when it comes to my own emotions, but yet I’m so quick to tell people “don’t hold back. “. Why do I do that? I have no idea. But maybe because I like to pretend I’m strong. It makes me feel like if I gave an advice especially a ballsy one, I would convince myself that it’s easy. Maybe because I want to cover up the fact that I am the one who stay up all night feeling sorry for myself because I can’t figure out what I should do to with myself with all these questions on mind. They haunt me. But I am not sure if I prefer that over the truth. I’m not ready. 


Hello everyone! I’ve missed you all so much! So I finally found time to sit and type about our birth story slash journey. 

So, my due date is originally on Wednesday, August 4th. But little one was stubborn and decided to stay longer. We set up a date for us to be induced, which is a week after my due date. I swear to you, I did everything I could to try to “induce” naturally . Mainly because I was miserable. My back was killing me, my feet were swollen, my joints even in my hands we aching. So I bounced on my pregnancy ball, walked as much as I could even when my hips felt like it was going to fall off. 

Saturday night after my due date was when my water broke! Around 12 midnight, I was in bed with my husband, I felt little contractions they felt very mild so I ignored them until I thought I peer myself… And it just kept going!  

I wasn’t in panic, infact, my husband was more worried about what to do next while I stood there and kept saying, “OMG, my water broke!” 

We drove to the hospital, checked in and we’re still very overwhelmed. I was eager to do a normal delivery. I was excited to feel the pain. 
But things did not go that way… 

I was in labor for almost 24 hours. I was only 5 cm dilated. Our Doctor tried to wait but she finally said we need to do cesarean section because the baby and I were at risk for infection. In fact, by the time they wheeled me in the operating room, I was already shaking because of a fever. Even though my husband was there, to try to comfort me, I could not understand what he was saying. I was too out of it. I was scared and wanted to run away. I was so unprepared to go through a surgery. 

But then, 

I heard him cry. 

When I heard him cry, even though I couldn’t see him, happiness came through me like hot flashes. I was weak but I managed a smile. I could here my husband say “I’m so proud of you”  and “he’s here baby. ” that was when I started crying my eyes out. And then I blacked out. 

The next thing I remember was waking up in a small room and my husband and child out of sight. My mom walked in and showed me pictures of my husband bathing our child. Part of me was a little jealous for not being able to hold the baby right away. But then again I was very happy to hear about how my husband was when he saw our baby. He was so proud of him. So happy to finally meet our baby. 

He even did a skin to skin with Kostandin. 

They’re my reason to live. I love them so much.