Moo

This is about the down and dirty of breastfeeding. This is not about how beautiful it is, about oxytocin release and lovey-dovey rainbow sparkles that flow from my brain when I have my letdown. This is a story of the nitty gritty crazy things you will do when you are providing a year's worth of liquid nutrition for your little calf. This post may make you blush and feel uncomfortable. Sorry. As an OB/GYN who preaches daily about breastfeeding's benefits, it's also up to me to comment on how NOT glamorous it is in the day to day life of a working mom. 

1). Bloody nipples. 

Yes! No matter how amazing your latch is, how perfectly shaped your baby's mouth is, how not flat your nipples are, you may have bloody scabs on your breasts at some point. This will pass. It sucks. Wear a black shirt on these days.

2). Your wardrobe sucks now.

I have a completely different set of clothing for the first year of my babies' lives. You will need button down shirts and stretchy tanks, you will ruin your cute Equipment silk blouses and you will ultimately decide between the lesser of two evils and become an "under-the-shirt" feeder or "top-boob" feeder resultantly stretching out the necks of all of your shirts. I am the latter because I would rather be topless than reveal my muffin top. True story. I'm excited to wear a dress again one day. This is almost impossible if you are pumping at work as it's not professional to have a dress around your ankles or around your neck in the middle of the work day. Asos.com has a ton of cute Co-ord sets which I highly recommend. These are basically dresses cut in half that are amazing for breastfeeding women. They are a favorite of Taylor Swift ...little does she know that she will have an amazing breastfeeding wardrobe one day.

3.) Your breasts will take on "Elastic-Man" qualities. 

Sadly, perky breasts attached to your chest wall will be a thing of the past. Your boobs will be stretchy and surprisingly maleable. They can point in different directions.  Bras don't really help. 

4). You will have a love-hate relationship with your breast pump. 

Buy lots of extra parts so you don't spend your life cleaning accessories and crying because you left something at home. Leave extra parts at the office and hidden in your purse.

5). You will breastfeed on the toilet in a public restroom and feel bad for yourself. 

It's okay. I've been there.

6). Lansinoh sheep lanolin stains your clothes. 

7.) Random strangers will tell you to get a room or that you shouldn't breastfeed in public.

Your baby has a right to eat. Brush it off :) 
8). The Dressing Room Attendant at Century 21 will accuse you of shoplifting.
Okay, so maybe this happened to me yesterday. It shouldn't happen to you...but it's what inspired this post. I ducked into the fitting rooms there to try on a few of the aforementioned Co-ord sets and realized I hadn't pumped in a few hours. I took the opportunity to manually express...which takes much longer than pumping but no hassle of mechanical devices, you just need two hands! When I emerged from the fitting room, the lady up front raised an eyebrow and said, "You were in there for a long time, can I check your bag?" After inspecting all the tags on my items and making sure I hadn't doctored the prices or stuffed anything into my insulated breast milk cooler, she had another employee escort me to the cashiers. I could have taken the time to explain my engorged breasts but it wasn't worth it. 

I decided to write this post instead. 

Xo

M

Vintage photo of me breastfeeding Maika in a furniture display at IKEA. Skaaagenfroudal anyone?

Birth

Today is my mom's birthday. Some sixty plus years ago my grandmother pushed out the first of four children and brought my mom into the world. 

It's a tough day for me but after a chat with my father, I realize that it's a celebration. A celebration of the start of her life and subsequently mine, my brother's and in some way, my own childbren's. 

My dad is spending the day making some of my mom's favorite foods. Barbecue ribs, meatball subs, asparagus.  She was a healthy lady but definitely indulged and found great joy in food. 

So I thank her today for passing onto me the delight she found in all things edible. It really is the center of most of my family gatherings. Ironically, I am terrible at making Chinese food but I make a damn fine turkey meatloaf. Growing up in a Chinese home, I often lamented the mundane white rice and vegetable dishes  carefully prepared by my parents. I yearned for Salisbury steak and the pot roasts I assumed all my Caucasian classmates must be eating followed by homemade apple pie nightly. 

I realize now, though, those homemade dinners around our small table were the heart of our family. My parents had a long day at the office and commuting to and from Manhattan,  yet we always had a homecooked, healthy Chinese meal. A mom of two now with a sometimes crazed day, I can get dinner on the table maybe 3 times a week. Takeout is my buddy.

Meat was luxurious while veggies were a staple... and I guess that was what the allure of wings and hearty ribs held for my mom. The luxury of meat-heavy meals was one my mom didn't have growing up in Taiwan. My parents often speak of the delight they had getting a big chicken drumstick on their birthdays and I think how simple that joy must have been. 

For you, mom, a meaty treat to celebrate you! She was never a fan of sweets or cake, so I will fittingly rejoice in her memory with an Atkins-heavy day. 

Happy happy birthday mom.

Xo

M

Fringe benefits of motherhood

In the aftermath of deep loss, there is of course a complicated healing process that must be faced. 

Grief is a beast of a thing. It hides and pounces and burrows and lurks. It catches you at your most vulnerable. I find myself longing to make a phone call to a woman who can no longer pick up the phone and the reality of that is very strange. What has gotten me through this tough, tough time is the very thing that makes it so tough. Motherhood. 

I cannot collapse. I cannot wallow and fall apart and spend four days in bed. I have two babies that need their mom to be functional, strong and brave. Maika can read my emotions so I really can't even fake it. I have to be joyful and playful and take care of myself. I learned this lesson from my mom. She honestly didn't complain. Despite her growing malignancy and her failing organs, she stayed strong for me. She smiled and embraced my children as if nothing were the matter in those last weeks. She held Emlen during meals so I could eat unencumbered. In the height of her suffering and fear of dying, she was STILL putting me first. What a woman. 

Losing my mother was and is gut altering. I am not the same. In some ways, though, I am relieved. She was in terrible pain and gasping for air. I know that at last she is comfortable.

And luckily, my profession and my kids keep me from feeling self pity and drowning in sadness. I remind myself that my mom had the chance to live life. She traveled to the US from Taiwan for college, saw the world, raised two children to adulthood and was married for forty years. I have cared for patients who lost babies in utero and I have seen a colleague lose her 10-month old bubbling son to SIDS. Loss is inevitable but losing a child is a tragedy.  My mom's death was not tragic. It was actually part of the natural order of things, an unfortunate byproduct of growing old and gaining wisdom. I just live now with a different reality, as a woman without her mother. I have been able to inhabit many different roles in this life... I was once a brooding adolescent, a single girl, a sun-kissed bride, a pregnant woman; I am someone different now.

I look at my fresh, bright-eyed children, just embarking on the journey of life and am filled with joy and hope. Nature was smart to give us babies. They are a great cure for loss. They anchor me in the reality of my present life so I am not pulled into the murky waters of 

mourning. I honor my mom's memory by moving forward and remembering to live life well. 

Xo,

M

For my mom,

I wrote a column for my college newspaper which was probably a bit self involved and I am sure I over shared details of my personal life. I am maybe too open, blunt, loud. 

I wrote that column as a way to connect with the public but it was therapeutic for me in many ways. Emotional catharsis. Trying to be "normal." It's been almost 20 years since I was a freshman in college and I find that I turn to writing again now as a form of spiritual healing.

My mom is dying.

Is that too much?

Will she be horrified to read this statement when she logs into my dad's Facebook account to catch up on pictures of my kids or see my new office? I don't know. I do know that I want it to be public because at some point everyone has lost a parent, is losing a parent, will lose a parent. It's an inevitably cruel joke of life. We spend years building this sticky bond of family only to have it torn away. We are overjoyed to have children to share with our parents and marvel together in their coos and 7-word sentences. We finally bond after estranged angry adolescence and adult conflict. The joy of my fresh, pudgy delicious children buoys me amidst the bitter sting of losing my mom. Life is my new manic bipolar best friend. So high and so low.

We were never best friends. In fact we had conflict. Deep painful conflict and strong acerbic disagreements. My mom is the strongest woman I know, maybe will ever know. Her will and her opinions are unshakeable. Her conviction is unparalleled. In my late teens I felt betrayed because she never sugar-coated a comment, she was brutally honest at the times that I thought a mom should tell a white lie to her daughter. 

And for that I actually say THANK YOU. Thanks, mom, for giving me the honest answer everytime. For showing me how to be a strong, powerful woman and for pushing me to work hard. For being unwavering in your dreams for a better life for me despite my best attempts at being a starving artist....She saw so much potential in me and carved out a path to the woman I am today from her humble immigrant beginnings. 

Her ovarian cancer made us closer. In twisted bittersweet ways, the illness that steals her from me now is the very one that made me feel closer to her than I ever have. As a gynecologist it's a doubly cruel strike by Mother Nature. I wish I could have seen the signs 7 years ago. Even now I struggle not knowing how to be a doctor and a daughter. I see a beautiful, proud woman who has given so much love to her children and grandchildren. I am a mother and a physician but I am embarrassingly inept in this department of dying and knowing how to tell her all these things. 

Being a mother is hard. The fruits of your labor often go unnoticed and you often give up exercise, dinners and vacations for the sake of your children. You may make recommendations that lead to anger and resentment from your kids. We are all just trying our best, though.

I see it now and in these last moments I say to my dear Margaret Ning Tham...Thank you. I'm sorry. I love you.

You've taught me some great lessons about being a mother and a woman.

Xoxo,

maika & emlen's momma

My mom circa 1979

Maika and Emlen's Mom

Short post just to start a new chapter. With the arrival of my little boy comes a whirlwind of change... as my daughter would say, holy guacamole! It's lunacy having 2 kids under 2, but wonderfully challenging...add to that a move back to my old city of New York, a new job, selling a home and renting another, purging an offensive amount of random junk, letting go of THINGS, leaving new friends, caring for my ailing but feisty mother and learning to communicate with my husband kindly amidst a sea of tough stuff.

I have always wanted to return to NYC and despite that strong desire, the change and implications of uprooting my family carry the weight of uncertainty. I am frightened and excited all at once. 

As my family grows I recognize that being in a community and having the arms of my extended family and dearest friends around us matter more than ever. HOME. The four of us, not tethered to things, but to each other and these crazy experiences. From 1800 square feet to 1000...less space, but for me, so much more soul. New York, we may be crazy for returning with two kids, as most leave your bustling streets with a growing family. For us, though, we welcome back Central Park (the largest backyard) and Morningside Park's charm, a chance to be my own boss, dim sum, efficient mass transit, the familiarity of your history laden streets, REALLY good pizza and bagels (oh how I've missed you!) and the proximity to our people: sarcastic, funny, unique, slightly odd and honest. What did Frank Sinatra say about New York?  If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere...for some reason I just couldn't make it in DC, New York, even in a rainstorm on moving day, that's a whole different story...that's easy, that's home.