Baby #2

I had to be persuaded to try for #2. Persistently. By Steve. While he made the case that giving Bub a sibling would make him less of an asshole and that having two was easier than one because they would someday play together, all I could think about was the toll having a baby would take on my body and how hard our lives already were with just one kid. Steve insisted he would do all the nighttime feedings and sleep training. He promised me the time and space to work out and take care of myself after the second baby arrived. Despite Steve’s best intentions, I knew the reality would be very different.

Because the truth is, having children is and always will be harder on the woman than the man. It’s biological. Steve will never know what it’s like to get up and pee four times in the middle of the night because a baby is sitting on his bladder. He’ll never know what it’s like to work full-time while struggling through first trimester nausea or third trimester insomnia. When the baby arrives, he’ll sympathize with my clogged milk ducts and hormone imbalance but won’t know how to help me. Because, I won’t know how he can help me.

Somehow, the logical side of my brain was overtaken by Steve’s persuasiveness and I got pregnant a month later. Steve was ecstatic, practically shouting our news from the rooftop. Though I was excited too, I was a bit more subdued knowing what was in store for me. Sure enough, the nausea kicked in a week after we found out.

With Bub, I waited until I was 20 weeks pregnant to find out his gender. I didn’t want to wait with this one, so I took a blood test at week 7 and found out we were having a girl.

A girl. When I saw the explosion of pink confetti on my computer screen, I immediately started sobbing. I wanted a boy so badly. I wanted another Bub. I wanted to be an all boy mom.

After a period of grieving, I realized that my disappointment was rooted in trauma and fear. Having a daughter would force me to confront the hardest parts of my upbringing. The fat-shaming, the insecurities, the constant fear of being assaulted by the opposite sex. Aspects of my childhood I try to forget.

I’m afraid I’ll fail at raising a daughter. I’m afraid she’ll be shallow, superficial, self-conscious. I’m worried she’ll be a lot like me. I’m worried I’ll have a hard time connecting with her or loving her as much as I love Bub.

On top of my emotional confrontation, the actual pregnancy has been so much tougher this round than the first. I was nauseated more and for longer. I experienced musculoskeletal pain, intense brain fog, and swelling. I mainly craved sugar and carbs and as a result, gained 20 pounds more than when I was pregnant with Bub.

I grimace when I hear people try to convince young moms that the second time around “is so much easier because your body has done it before”. Utter BS. It’s a hundred times harder because I’m uncomfortably pregnant and trying to keep up with my first kid. The only thing easier about having a second kid is that I’ve mentally been through a pregnancy and a delivery already, so I know slightly more about what to expect. I know not to stress about eating deli meat, drinking caffeine, or taking a Tylenol. I did all of these things, some every day.

Over the past eight months, people have shared with me their joys about having daughters and I’ve gradually grown more excited about having one of my own. I know it’ll be challenging to shield her from societal pressures. At first, it’ll be the ones which push her to wear pink, to dress up, to obsess about being a damsel in distress. At some point, it’ll be the ones which encourage her to be gentle, quiet, passive - to be liked above all else.

At the same time, I’m looking forward to helping her navigate this world and to love herself first and foremost. I’m committed to breaking the cycle of generational, cultural, and societal trauma that I experienced. I’m not afraid of her knowing my fears. I hope she sees someday how hard I’ve worked to overcome them and that she realizes she played a big part in my ability to do so.

Photos by Mo ♥️

Sustainability Now

Global pandemic + baby = impossible zero waste

What does sustainability look like for me right now? It looks like disposable diapers, plastic shopping bags, and lots of packages at the door. Admittedly, I’m using Amazon more than I ever have (I don’t know where else to buy Vitamin D drops for infants). I’m buying plastic-wrapped items at the grocery store without reusable shopping bags (our store stopped allowing reusable bags due to COVID). My water usage has increased significantly given the additional laundry, bottles, and pump parts to wash. It feels like my pre-COVID, pre-baby zero waste efforts have gone down the drain.

Actually, my sustainability journey hit a bump in the road when I started getting really nauseated during the early weeks of my pregnancy - about a year ago. The only things that made me feel better were carbs, crackers, and cheese. And they usually came wrapped in plastic. Then came the doctor’s visits. Each appointment, blood draw, and ultrasound created some form of waste. When I actually delivered the baby, I can’t even begin to list all the single-use plastic used during my hospital stay.

Once the baby was born, people felt the need to send lots of gifts. I mean, lots of unnecessary gifts. Not only did I feel stress and guilt over the plastic I did buy, I felt stress and guilt over the plastic I didn’t buy. Not to mention all the time, energy, and waste used to disinfect everything. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just how I feel.

Sigh. Sustainability seems impossible. Zero waste seems impossible.

I’m doing the best I can. I try to use reusable diapers, but the disposable ones wick away more moisture, which means a less fussy baby. I try to only use reusable wipes. I try to use rubber pacifiers instead of silicone and plastic ones. I try to only buy wooden or rubber toys. I’ve only purchased three new sleepers for the baby; the rest of his wardrobe is secondhand. His crib and mattress are secondhand. We use bar soap, are eating a more vegan diet, and avoid synthetic fabric as much as possible. We’re not driving as much as we used to. 

But, I know this is not nearly enough. There’s so much more I want to do on the community level, the political level, the corporate level.

Simply put, there is nothing sustainable about having a baby. Well, aside from the notion of sustaining one’s lineage. Having a baby is literally the opposite of reducing my footprint. In fact, it’s creating even more of a footprint on this earth. Before we decided to have kids, I struggled with the idea of bringing a child into this world. Our natural resources are already depleted, the planet already overpopulated - why create another mouth to feed? 

Amidst deforestation, climate change, and pandemics, I don’t know what the world will look like in the next ten years. With COVID, I don’t know what the world will look like tomorrow. It’s a terrifying time to be alive. It’s a terrifying time to bring a baby into this world.

My husband and I have had long discussions about how we’d try to make growing a family as sustainable as possible. We want to teach our children how to be sustainable stewards of the Earth, to be a voice for the voiceless. We want our children to be better humans than we ever were. In a sense, we want and need our children to right our wrongs, to pay the dues of past generations.

And yet, it all seems so selfish. Children should have no obligation to us. We brought them into this world. They shouldn’t be pressured to save it.

At the very least, we need to teach our children about respecting our environment, about how our wellbeing is inextricably tied to the wellbeing of our natural world.

Sustainability now? It doesn’t exist.

Eco-anxiety

“All living beings deserve clean air, clean food, and clean water.”

“Would you care for any dessert?” our waitress asks. “No dessert, but we’ll take another order of appetizers,” I tell her. I’m 31 weeks pregnant, it’s the evening of Valentine’s Day, and I’m fully enjoying a night out with my husband. I order my post-dinner snack just as the restaurant is getting busier and our appetizers take a little while to arrive. This is usually no problem, except that I irrationally blamed it on a series of unfortunate events that occurred afterwards.

We’re parked two blocks away from the restaurant and just as we’re about to cross the street to our car, an old RV accelerates at the corner. I freeze. My ears are always on high alert for the sound of loud vehicles. I don’t know much about automobiles, but my brain thinks that the louder the vehicle, the more exhaust it leaves behind.

I can’t decide whether to hold my breath and run to our car or turn around and try to flee from the invisible cloud of choking gas the RV leaves behind. I step into a parking lot only to find a parked pick-up with its engine running. I literally can’t get away from breathing in poison. I frantically change my mind and decide to walk towards our car. The thick smell of carbon from the RV fills my nose and seemingly every cell in my body. I want to cry. The RV is blocks away now but its vapors remain thick in the air.

We get in the car and my sadness turns to anger. Why did I order the extra appetizers? Why did the RV have to be at the street corner just as we were? Why does air pollution exist? Why was I in the wrong place at the wrong time?

I burst into tears and sob uncontrollably. My catastrophic thinking snowballs. I’m worried about the effects of air pollution on me and my baby. I’m depressed because I can’t seem to get away from it, no matter how hard I try or where I am. I’m sulky towards my husband, who experiences the brunt of my anxieties. I feel guilty for not being able to control my emotions. 

This is what eco-anxiety can look like.

I’ve struggled with anxiety for a long time but over the past few years, it’s morphed into eco-anxiety. My phobia of air pollution is what I struggle with most. To me, my phobia is akin to someone who is an arachnophobe. When I see semi trucks, crop dusters, or cigarette smoke, I literally freeze with fear. It’s like throwing an arachnophobe into a pit of spiders. Whether rational or irrational, my perceptions are my reality.

Sometimes I wonder if ignorance is bliss, whether I’d be happier not knowing about toxins and their health effects, about climate change and environmental destruction. There is probably some truth to that. But, I also think ignorance is bliss until someone gets hurt. It’s all fun and games until cities like Bakersfield, CA become unlivable due to air pollution and fire season becomes more common in more regions. Once I saw air pollution (or smelled it), I couldn’t unsee it. I couldn’t un-breathe it.

Having anxiety, worrying about the Earth, stressing about environmental hazards - it’s exhausting and can be all-consuming. These things leave little room in my mind for positivity, creativity, self-care. I wonder about all the hours I’ve wasted feeling anxious and depressed.

The silver lining with anxiety is that it spurs me towards action. Mentally, I’m trying to focus on what I can control, on improving my negative mindset. Physically, I’m trying to walk or bike instead of drive, to educate those around me about VOCs, to petition to legislators for cleaner air. Though much easier said than done, I’m trying to channel my fears and anxieties towards something productive. I suppose the theme here is the word try. Trying to thrive in life than be terrified.

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What has helped with my anxieties

Over the past year, I’ve learned some coping mechanisms that have given me some comfort:

1. Seeking help. I share my fears and anxieties with my therapist. Together, we discuss practices that might help me feel more calm: meditation, exercise, grounding techniques, journaling, taking a walk. What’s difficult is that deep breathing is usually a good way to relax but with this phobia, my issue is that I’m afraid to breathe.

2. Facing worst case scenarios. When I’m afraid to leave the house, Steve and I talk through my worst case scenarios and we devise a plan for if those scenarios were to actually happen. It makes me feel better knowing that the person I’m with has my back when I step out into the world.

3. Thinking positively. While I have a plan for my worst case scenarios, I’m also working on training my mind to think best case. For me, this takes a lot of energy since I’ve spent most of my conscious life being doom and gloom. I constantly need to remind myself that the Universe isn’t malicious, that the Universe has my back.

4. Getting enough sleep. I’ve found that sleep deprivation makes it harder to fend off scary thoughts. Especially with a newborn, sleep can be hard to come by. But when I get 6-8 hours of sleep in a night, I feel mentally stronger.

What we can do today about air pollution

• Sign up for the Moms Clean Air Force newsletter.

• Write to local officials asking them to support environment-first legislation.

• Don’t idle vehicles.

• Cut back on VOCs, many of which are found indoors. VOCs hide in:

  • Air fresheners

  • Carpet

  • Cosmetics (including hairspray and nail polish)

  • Diesel emissions

  • Dry-cleaned clothing

  • Fabrics

  • Furniture

  • Gasoline

  • Industrial emissions

  • Office printers and copiers

  • Paint

  • Pesticides

  • Tobacco smoke

• Avoid products enhanced with chemical fragrances, such as perfumes, cleaning products, candles, air fresheners, and plug-in scents. Switch to essential oils instead.

• Buy less; buy local. Trucks transporting goods and factories creating goods are significant contributors to air pollution.

• Compost. If there isn’t a municipal composting program available, consider composting at home or supporting a private composting business (such as WasteNot Compost). Food waste is the biggest contributor of solid waste in landfills, where it releases methane into the atmosphere.

• Reduce plastic usage. Producing plastic and incinerating plastic waste in landfills and open fields create toxic fumes we all breathe in.

• Eat less meat, especially beef. Livestock is responsible for about 14.5% of global greenhouse gas emissions.

• Offset carbon emissions by donating to organizations that focus on carbon offsets and/or fight deforestation.

What we can do in the future

• Purchase an electric or hybrid car to cut down on fossil fuels.

• Replace gas-powered lawn equipment with electric versions.

• Power homes with renewable energy (such as solar panels or CleanChoice Energy).

• Walk or bike instead of driving or taking an Uber/Lyft.

• Take vacations that don’t require flights.

My Pregnancy: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Pregnancy has been a huge lesson for me in letting go and having faith. There is so little I have control over and for a planner like me, I had a hard time adjusting.

I stared at the positive pregnancy test in total disbelief and then yelled for Steve from the bathroom. We jumped up and down in pure excitement.

Then the anxiety rushed in. I immediately started thinking about all the things I shouldn’t have done over the past several weeks while our precious embryo came to life.

My two matcha lattes a day. The x-rays at the dentist’s office. The cigarette smoke I walked through. The mouthguard I wore at night. The hot yoga classes. The list goes on.

Before I got pregnant, I remember thinking that I would only eat healthy and organic. I wanted my baby to have the very best. I laugh now about how naive and judgmental that thought was.

I braced myself for the nausea and like clockwork, I started feeling nauseated the week after we found out we were pregnant. And the only things that made me feel better: bread and cheese. Oh, the irony of thinking I could stick to a healthy diet during my entire pregnancy.

Ginger, kale, mushrooms. I couldn’t stand the sight or smell of them. I ate loads of them before getting pregnant and now just the thought of them made me want to hurl. I remember ordering a side of kale at a restaurant with the hopes of taking a few bites since I hadn’t eaten greens in a while. When it arrived at the table, it made me feel so sick that I had Steve eat all of it as fast as he could just so I didn’t have to look at it anymore. What. Was. Happening.

I couldn’t believe it. I had heard stories like mine and laughed about them, fascinated and slightly doubtful that nausea could be that bad. Oh, it’s bad and I had to experience it to finally understand the tragedy of wanting to eat something but have it completely disgust me at the same time. To feel nausea every day and have the only things that make me feel better be the things I know I shouldn’t eat. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

But, I know I’m one of the lucky ones. My nausea started to subside around Week 9.

When the nausea kicked in, I was angry. You’re telling me I have to work full-time, grow a baby, fight nausea, AND try not to tell anyone for the first few months lest I miscarry? Nothing is fair about pregnancy. The fear, anxiety, and stress is a lot to bear. Not to mention my body is changing, my hormones are all over the place, and I feel exhausted most of the time.

Late one evening, I was on my bus ride home, reflecting on my workday. I was about nine weeks pregnant at the time. A day full of back-to-back meetings with an extra side of a long commute. I needed breaks in between my meetings (in reality I needed naps in between meetings). I felt like my brain wasn’t functioning at full capacity and I couldn’t give it the rest it needed. Instead, I was expected to be alert and engaged the entire day. I felt frustrated, sad, and guilty that I couldn’t be my best self.

Then, a thought crossed my mind, “Um, hello! I’m growing a baby!” I had to be kinder to myself. The expectations of me at work may not have changed but the expectations I had about how and when I take care of myself could.

My second trimester was more enjoyable. These few months were full of special milestones. We shared the pregnancy news with our families, close colleagues, and friends. Though as soon as we started sharing the news, a small part of me felt sad about it. The baby was no longer our little secret.

At Week 20, we found out we were having a BOY. For me, the gender reveal was the most exciting part of the pregnancy. I was convinced we were having a girl, and we even had a name picked out. Our ultrasound technician saved the reveal until the end of the appointment and when she confirmed we were having a boy, Steve sat next to me jaw-dropped and I immediately teared up. One minute we’re in complete shock and the next, we’re filled with overwhelming excitement. It was the biggest surprise of our lives.

The following week, I felt the baby kick for the first time. Being pregnant has been both a magical and terrifying experience, and I don’t hear about the terrifying part enough. As soon as the baby was conceived, I felt like it was us against the world. I worried about consuming caffeine, deli meat, raw vegetables, fish with high mercury content, tap water, and artificial food coloring. I worried about breathing in car and truck exhaust, going through body scanners at airports, taking baths, and wearing jeans that were too tight. Choices I made throughout the day became a game of “pick my poison”. And, those were the things I tried to control. In the back of my mind, I thought about the chances of a miscarriage, of genetic defects, of a stillbirth. The things I couldn’t control but nonetheless worried about. Whether or not my fears were rational, I was (and still am) scared. But to stay sane, I had to learn to stay positive and have faith that everything will be okay.

That is to say, the little kicks I felt (and still feel) are my main reassurance. I like to think they are his way of telling me that he’s all right in there.

Despite my fears and the minor discomfort of not being able to bend over and put on my own shoes in Week 34, pregnancy hasn’t been all that bad. My hair has never been thicker, my skin never clearer, and I’m thoroughly enjoying foods I would normally restrict myself from eating. There’s also something incredibly liberating about intentionally growing my belly. I’ve spent most of life sucking in my stomach so I could fit into skinny jeans, look thinner in photos, and feel a tiny bit more comfortable in a bikini. For the first time ever, I don’t have to think about that. I’m proudly growing and showing off my big belly.

As we head into the final weeks, I’m absolutely terrified of the labor and delivery. I’m worried I won’t be a good mom. I still worry about a lot of things. I’m told my thoughts are normal. But if the past eight months have taught me anything, it’s that thoughts come and go. And even if most of them are scary, it’s the positive ones I need to hold on to.

Pregnancy tips that really helped me:

• When I was nauseated, carbs were my best friend. I also found that not letting myself get hungry helped me manage the nausea. During the day, I ate a little something every hour or so.

• Despite wanting to lay in bed all day, exercise did help me throughout my entire pregnancy. In the first trimester, it helped keep the nausea at bay. In the second and third trimesters, it helped me feel strong and fit.

• Night hunger is real. I keep crackers on my nightstand for when I wake up in the middle of the night starving.