Spilling More Than Just Milk
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New year, new routine: Babies first dentist appointment
Isn’t "New Year, New You" the phrase we hear every January? It’s the season of wellness tips, workout routines, and a fresh start. Maybe it was all the positive propaganda, but we decided this would also be a perfect time to reboot some habits and routines—for our 1.5-year-old!
A Frustrated Open Letter to the MTA & My Fellow New Yorkers from a Struggling New Parent
Dear NYC MTA and my fellow subway riding New Yorkers,
Please, for the love of all things holy, I am begging you… get your head out of your own ass and wake up! New York City is a place with plenty of unspoken social rules. There are just too many of us (estimated to be around 8,097,282 people) crammed into this geographically small city (305 square miles), and we all know we need to abide by these unspoken norms.
CONVERSATIONS WITH (YARI PUJOLS): My TTC Journey
YARI’S STORY: The moment I decided I was ready to be a mother was the moment I stepped into a journey I hadn’t fully understood—trying to conceive (TTC). For me, this wasn’t just about having a baby. It became a path of self-discovery, finding strength in uncertainty, and making peace with the unknown.
The Worst Lactation Specialist in Brooklyn
Let me set the stage for you: a new mom, a tiny human with an insatiable appetite, and a whole lot of confusion. A wise friend once said, “Back in the day, we raised babies in a tribe, with all the women before us ready to lend a hand.” Fast forward to today, and many of us are navigating this wild ride without our tribes nearby. So, what do we do? We hire our tribes!
The Resilience of 9/11 Babies: Stories of Hope and Reflection
September 11, 2001, is a day etched in history for its profound tragedy and loss. However, amidst the heartache and devastation, new life emerged in New York City. For these “9/11 babies,” their arrival on this fateful day not only marked the beginning of their lives but also, in some cases, became intertwined with their parents' survival stories.
Surviving Our First Week as Parents (and Two Hospital Stays!)
When you have a baby, it feels like you’re worried about everything under the sun. You’re constantly on edge, unsure of what you’ll need or what could potentially go wrong. It’s like you’re on a roller coaster and just hoping it doesn’t go off the rails.
Becoming a Father: The Crash Course
Ah, the first kid—where you're equal parts excited and terrified, and feeling completely unprepared for the job. You can try to predict what parenthood will be like, but guess what? You’re doing the predicting, and you’ve got zero experience. It’s like trying to explain snow to someone who’s lived their whole life in the desert—good luck.
Preeclampsia Postpartum: The Plot Twist I Didn't See Coming
There I was, 10 centimeters dilated, one leg in my husband’s hands, the other in my nurse’s, gripping the hospital bed rails for dear life. I was locked in on my OB-GYN, who was calmly coaching me through each contraction. “You have to get above the baby with your body,” she said, like I was doing Olympic gymnastics and not, you know, pushing out a human. “Push down and out; he’s gotta get past your pelvis bone.” With everything swirling in my head, I closed my eyes, letting each wave of contractions hit me like an oncoming tide, then sprinting through each push.
Oh, the Birth Story! (With a Side of Spicy Chicken Sandwiches)
Ah, the anticipation of giving birth for the first time. If you're anything like me, you probably spent months gathering every birth story you could find, like a squirrel hoarding nuts for the winter. "Will my water break like in the movies?" "Will I be that woman who ends up giving birth in the bathroom at home because she didn’t feel a thing?" My mind was a wild tornado of possibilities, each scenario more dramatic than the last.
The Nursing Chair That I Never Nursed In: A Hilariously Emotional Tale
When I was pregnant with my first baby, I had this vision of being the quintessential "Brooklyn Mom." Picture it: limited gear, baby strapped to me in a chic sling, and zero bottles because I would be the breastfeeding queen. Naturally, I devoted an embarrassing amount of time to finding the perfect nursing chair for my baby’s room. It had to swivel, rock gently, have the perfect arm height for elbow support, and a tall enough back to rest my head during those dreamy late-night feedings. The fabric had to be just right—nothing too dark since I imagined countless meals being spilled on it. Finally, I found "The One," ordered it online, and couldn't wait to sit in it, pregnant, daydreaming about nursing my soon-to-arrive little boy. Little did I know that the times I sat in it pregnant would outnumber those after he arrived.