Life, motherhood

Exclusively Pumping: Breastfeeding Journey Glimpse

To be honest, things have been hectic. Between little sleep and slowly trying to get back on schedule and keeping a routine with a toddler while feeding a newborn on demand. It’s…well demanding. Along with a part time job at home, school online, my son’s therapy (that’s another blog for another day) I think some days I reach peak of mental exhaustion. I’v been lucky to have my husband for five weeks to help me through this time cause it is not easy getting back to whatever we consider reality at this point.

All things considered I am okay. This time around I know more than I did the first time around with my son. I was new to breastfeeding and pumping. I was new to the experience of motherhood and everything it physically entailed. This time around I am a little less nervous and knew what I wanted which was to pump as much as I could for this baby.

The first time around I remember doing so much research and stressing about my output. I was only making about 20 ounces per day after two to three weeks and it wasn’t enough. I was able to supplement at night with formula but my goal was to strictly breastfeed. Eventually, by an increase of water intake, adding more pumps in my day, lactation supplements and lactation treats was I able to start reaching 30-35 oz a day. I was able to purchase a stand up freezer and store a lot of breast milk for when anytime my supply started to drop towards the end of my journey or started using breast milk in the solids I would give my son. I was proud of the hard work I put into it and couldn’t be happier that I had reached my goal of a year breast feeding. I was relieved once it ended. My mind at peace.

Now here I am once again. I struggle with the thought of doing this all over again for another now…49 weeks or longer depending. This time around I have a oversupply when I prepped for under supply in the beginning. I am proud and yet stressed to say I am at 50-60 oz per day! This time around I did maintain a good water intake, coconut eater from a company I found, lactation brownies, prenatals and pumping at least 6 times a day (its advised to do more like 8-12 so please don’t try this if you’re experiencing an under supply). This all isn’t easy since breast feeding and exclusively pumping has its pros and cons. Every situation is unique and I have my own personal struggles to overcome when it comes to pumping from the wash and sterilizing of bottles and pump part to planning each pump to make sure the kids are comfortable and in a safe place while I sit for 20-30 minutes.

To put this into perspective that’s 20-30 minutes for every pump and at the recommended 8-12 times a day for the first 6 weeks to establish supply. Pumping can actually be a full time job cause this doesn’t include the constant washing of parts and bottles. While taking care of a new baby and everything else of course. This is a glimpse of the struggle but I am proud of myself and those who keep their littles fed. Fed is best and even those who give their little ones formula its still its own struggle to afford formula in the first place. Whether you’re new to this journey or returning. Welcome (Welcome back) you’re not alone!

Life, motherhood

Growing from One to Two Earthside

It’s difficult when you’ve experienced loss of pregnancy. Every pregnancy after you’re stuck in a limbo of what ifs and worry for any news that’ll shake your wold. Every appointment you wonder if the doctors will tell you something a parent never wants to hear. It takes away some but not all of those little joys of being pregnant. The excitement of an ultrasound replaced by anxiety right before. It feels like you’re holding your breath and waiting until they’re in your arms. Even after a successful pregnancy. I still had those nerves being pregnant a fourth time.

Time went by quicker this time. I almost didn’t want the day to come from how unready I felt. Then I remembered that nothing prepares you 100 percent for motherhood. Whether it be the first time you’re becoming a mother or anytime after that. A toddler and a newborn? It was going to be surreal.

Now, that we have our second earth-side son here. I forget how small newborns are. How cuddly they can be all curled up in your chest and you don’t want to move cause you want the moment to last forever. To be their safe place a little while longer before they cry for a feeding or a change. I wasn’t sure how I would feel after having our first earth-side son for over 2 years. I was worried that I would feel too overwhelmed and have mixed emotions. It’s amazing what emotions will do. I honestly felt myself grow. Your heart and soul expands. It’s as if the world around you becomes bigger with love to welcome another child into your life. The pieces fall into place and soon it’s almost as if they were meant to be.

As of now I’m 2 weeks postpartum and to be honest this time around feels a bit easier with the jitters. I know as the weeks go by there will be easy days as there will be difficult days. Especially, once my husband returns to work from family leave. For now I want to soak up these moments while I heal. I’ll share my labor story and raw postpartum with time. I still have days where it feels surreal that I have two kids with me now. Somehow it feels so right and almost impossible based on what we went through. But, I think it was meant to be.

Life, motherhood

Coming to Terms

As a first time parent, life can be full of surprises. It’s a journey of both love and hardships that I am learning alongside with husband. From the moment I was pregnant I would fee this deep connection with each child. Even after the first two losses I found myself still being able to bond although cautiously with my son’s pregnancy. After he was born, our journey as parents began and its been over two years since then.

My son is my firsthand experience with a newborn and child. I was never the type to gravitate towards children. It wasn’t who I was and I kept it that way until I was ready to have kids of my own. The pieces of motherhood fell into place and it was a beautiful struggle to say the least. Exclusively pumping and sleepless nights from worry, anxiety, first time jitters, appointments, and overall motherhood. You get this idea stuck in your head that you need to be perfect always. That you’re this super being that cannot mistakes no matter what. How can you? This little human that relies on you for everything and anything. This needs to be perfect, I needed to be perfect. But, then it hit me one day. It was perhaps the first night he slept through the night that I realized. I didn’t need to be perfect but present. Present for his needs and his growth in this world. There would be mistakes on the way but I had to learn from those mistakes instead of torturing myself. Yes, mom guilt is real. It’s completely normal and happens to even the best of us.

As a mother or even a parent it’s difficult to come to terms with many things. It’s easy to call yourself crazy when you suspect anything. That’s why when we noticed our son wasn’t meeting his milestones in his speech or social skills. My non verbal son who tend to shy away from other kids and wouldn’t give us eye contact to even smile at times. Didn’t listen to his name when called. How could I miss that? I began to wonder. Was this cause of me? Was there any earlier signs I had missed? Am I crazy to suspect there could be a diagnosis in the near future. Soon when he turned 2 years old, he was evaluated and diagnosed with mild-moderate autism.

When receiving the news. There was a stillness. I knew this was coming but to hear it be confirmed gave me both a sense of relief and yet a feeling of loss. Relief that I was not crazy to see these signs and make the call. A feeling of loss since I knew this meant a unique journey, different sets of worries, and learning to provide a better quality of life for my son. Was I doing the right thing? How would the world see him as he grows? Will we ever be able to communicate with him? Will he have friends? Can we provide the emotional support he needs?

These are all the questions and more that still haunt me currently. I try to take it a day at a time. Between all his therapies and steps we have taken. I’m slowly becoming more confident and seeing any progress has been enlightening for us. I will admit I still have those occasional nights of tears. I don’t blame myself anymore. I love my sweet boy, I will walk this path with him. I will always cherish his quirks and that smile he has when he makes eye contact with us. It may only last seconds before he gets distracted again but I see him. I am proud of his progress and what’s to come.

Life, motherhood

A Moment

I needed a moment to myself. Balancing work, social, love and being a mother in life. It became a cycle that I eventually forgot to blog, write in my journal and dare I say? I stopped playing video games all together. I miss it some days. Other days I rather snuggle up to my son and husband to watch the Grinch (for the 3rd time that day)

Sometimes our conversation mingle between how we’ve been feeling with things in life lately. I’ll be honest it’s been overwhelming. I’ve always been such an over-thinker when it comes to anything. I can lay still at night while my mind rummages through the day about things.

Did I play with our son enough? Did he eat enough? Did I have enough patience today? Are the cats happy? The coffee I didn’t get to prepare for my husband…will he resent me? Did I finish that task at work or this task? That bag of laundry should be done by this week or should I go do groceries? Maybe if I had more energy or planned it out better.

There’s always doubt. There’s always something I could of done better. I recently been attempting to prepare for the future. Forgive the past and accept the present. It’s not easy. It’s a struggle every single day for someone who tends to plan and stress when plans aren’t executed on time. But I’m trying and I think that’s good enough for me.

Featured image is a succulent from my collection called Echeveria Sang A.

Grief, Life, motherhood

My Story, My Babies.

*Trigger Warning*

This isn’t for the faint of heart. I talk about pregnancy loss and I talk about medical termination of one of my pregnancies (abortion because of medical reasons). I also talk about depression and dark thoughts similar to suicide. That might be triggering to some.

If you decide to read do so at your own risk and if you have anything to share feel free. However, I will ban comments that are deemed inappropriate. Thank you for understanding.


Alright, it’s been real everyone. This might be longer than I want it to be. I don’t mind sharing my experiences. It’s tough to even put it in words sometimes. So I’ll do my best and share what I can.

In honor of pregnancy and miscarriage awareness month (October 15th is the Remembrance Day) I decided to share my story. I’ve touched on it in the past. But never in depth talked about my emotions. My thoughts. The grieving process I suppose. I find that talking about it and sharing my story can help others going through the same thing or open a perspective for some that may know someone going through it or simply want to know what we go through. There’s no words for people who’ve experienced this. No amount of words can take the pain away. But, if sharing this can open people’s eyes and chip away the stigma around it. I’m more than honored to talk about it.


Over three years ago on May 23rd, 2016 I would wake up like any other day. No symptoms besides one of my cats being all over the days leading up to. I would take another pregnancy test the same way I did all the other days only for it to come up negative. I was sure it would be negative again. It’s been 10 months of trying to conceive how would that day be any different; or so I thought. Through heavy eyelids, I checked my test five minutes later and saw it clear as day. The other line. The line that tells me I was with child. My life was going to change. My husband was going to be a father. My family would welcome this child with love. Oh how this child would be loved.


As the days passed I dealt with stretching pains, an excited family wondering what we would be having. A girl or a boy. Everyone swore up and down it would be a boy. While my husband and I were sure I was having a girl. I have a journal where I kept my thoughts and growing maternal instinct almost every week. The joy we felt when found out we were going to have a baby girl. I still swell with bittersweet emotions from the thought. How tightly my husband held my hand. The way I laughed when they told us it was a girl. Surprising my parents with a chocolate cake that had a pink flower. It’s all there. I cherish those memories. My last memories with her. The last ones I had where I was a first time mother unaware and oblivious to the devastation to come. How I wish I could hug her. Prepare her for what’s to come.


I won’t go into too much detail of that day. I’ll share my thoughts through the whole thing and what actually happened.

August 24th was probably like any other day I suppose. I always bled a bit during my pregnancy with Rosebud. Always had urine infections. That was all normal for 18 weeks. The cramps were surprisingly more painful. As the day carried on my cramps would get worse. Eventually, leading me to call my dad to drop me off to the Emergency Room just in case. I was always told to go to the ER if I experienced bleeding that was out of the ordinary. After a few hours I was out. They checked my Baby girl. She looked great and figured she was sleeping since they prodded her and she moved around. Heartbeat strong as can be. My cervix closed and no signs of anything wrong. My husband had texted me saying maybe I was having first pregnancy jitters. That I was perfect and she was perfectly fine. The cramps never subsided as I went home with my sister in law. We talked about how weird it was that I was still having pain. I was tired. All I wanted was to get to bed and wake up feeling better. Upon arriving home I felt like I was (literally) peeing myself. I chalked it up to the urine infection while baby is on my bladder as I ran to the bathroom to clean up.

More blood? More water? Why doesn’t my pee stop? It’s as if I have no control over myself anymore. This pain. What are these pains on my right side? My appendix? Great. I’m pregnant and about to perhaps die because my appendix is about to burst.

Eventually the pain was coming in and out every few minutes and since I couldn’t reach my parents (it was about past 2am at this point) I called 911. I cried because of the pain and fear. At no point did the thought crossed my mind that I was in labor. I actually thought I was dying of something else. This is where things get fuzzy for me the ambulance ride, arriving, getting my vitals checked, my sister in law asking me if I was okay. I was in a lot of pain and all I wanted was for this pain to stop. I didn’t want to die. I just wanted everything to be okay. I remember my sister in law telling me that the sheets I had hugged between my legs were slowly getting soaked in blood. Before it truly could hit me. It happened. I felt a part of me die. I felt my heart slowly crumble. A little light in my soul go out. I barely remember what I said only the tears and no matter how much I cried out. It wasn’t going to make time stand still. I wasn’t going to get my daughter back. Making the dreadful call to my parents. Telling them I had lost my baby. Their first grandchild. My husband would get a text at work saying his daughter was gone and that his wife was probably bleeding. How time passed so slowly at first in that room where they told me not only that I lost my daughter but my placenta wasn’t coming out. I was losing blood. To endure even more pain to save me. The dark thoughts that went through me at first.

“Do I really want to be saved? Was it worth saving someone who was now an empty shell?”

Yes. I was. But I didn’t know it at the time.

I watched the pale look on my husband’s face as he walked into the room. The guilt and despair on his face was haunting. No tears. Only emotions. I was okay, right? I would be. Just not today or the days to come.


Her ashes are with us. A UTI gone bad to the point it weakened her placenta and everything around her. Nothing could of been done. No amount of antibiotics. Nothing. The grief was still in our hearts when I found out I was pregnant again only months later. We were excited yet cautious. Only to find out that our baby was not well. His brain hadn’t developed and his heart was going to give out any day. He never moved or showed any other signs of life besides his slow heartbeat. Unfortunately, I decided to terminate at around 15 weeks with him. Enough to find out what we were having and figure out what was wrong. The devastation I felt was doubled upon. I cried the whole way home not caring who was around me. I had experience the loss of not one but two babies. I felt as though the world hated me. That I wasn’t meant to be a mother. I was overwhelmed with emotions even up to the day of termination. May 30th 2017 I would lose Ulrich; Our first son.


No one prepares for this. Pregnancy is a time of joy and preparing yourself to be a parent whether it be the first time, second or more after. Also, it not only impacts the immediate person but even those around you sometimes. I was in a dark place where I didn’t know how I could go on without my babies. I did therapy, played video games, took walks with my husband. I started to realize that I had to take things a day at a time. My day would come where I would be a mother hopefully one way or another. Thankfully, I was able to. Yet there are days I think about my babies and the tears come running. Nothing can prepare you for grief. We just live with it everyday.


Thank you for reading this far. If you or anyone you know has experienced pregnancy loss or stillbirth, I am so sorry. My condolences are with you and that person. I hope you know that you’re not alone. Much love everyone.

Grief, Life, motherhood

Three without You

Happy birthday my Rosebud. It’s been three years.

Three years I’ll never get with you,

-even I find it hard to believe it’s true.

Three years I’ve dealt with this grief,

-still in on our minds even if it’s brief.

Three years that still haunt me today,

-some days I still ask myself if I’m okay.

Three years here without you here,

-Yet, our love for you never disappeared.


For those that don’t know. I was suppose to have a daughter January 2017. But life has other plans and she was born August 2016. Every year I write a poem. We eat out and silently celebrate her. As I reminisce in my pregnancy with her. She was my first. The one that gave me all those first feelings. Doubts. Dreams. All that I can ever hope for in the 4 months that I carried her. If you’ve been through this I’m so sorry. Life heals. Life gets better. You never forget, you just find a new way to live.

Grief, Life, motherhood

“Is he your first baby?”

I get asked this a lot when I’m out with Alaric. It’s an innocent question. Most would answer it easily with a yes or no. And probably reminisce in baby stories and how is it being either a first time parent or parent to multiples. But it’s a question that sends me spiraling sometimes. Should I lie and say yes? Or should I say no and avoid the questions that come buzzing after. Sadly with my guilt swelling up in my throat. I say yes. Yes he’s my first child. As my stomach churns, my heart sinks and I start feeling almost everything stiffen. How could I say that?

I’m a mother of 3. But, there’s 2 that everyone can’t see. They’re invisible to everyone else except me. Even if those around me forget. I’ll always remember them.

I’m a grieving mother who’s been pregnant 3 times and was blessed to be able to raise one beautiful boy for it. I admit he has healed me more than I thought he would. At first I cried a lot. Whether it be because I was so happy that he was home in my arms. Or cause I was so sad that his sister and brother weren’t with us. Everything was bundled into this whirlwind of postpartum hormones and being a tired first time parent to a child who’s cries and sound of his soft breathing would make my heart swell.

I’m working on not feeling so guilty when people ask. It’s not their fault. I’ve changed my answer to yes he’s my first. While remembering that he was the beginning to many different firsts. The first I get to watch grow up. The first to call me mama. I will still get all those firsts. While still grieving for the ones that didn’t.


If you made it this far. Thank you for reading. If you’re new then hello I’m Sori. In this blog I share my pregnancy loss. In 2016 I found out I was having a girl and in 2017 a boy. Both which couldn’t come home with me. Finally in 2018 my son Alaric was born and I’ve been healing since then along with my husband. We have been so blessed to be able to watch our beautiful boy grow and flourish. Thanks again for reading.