Breastfeeding

Nowadays it should be natural to breastfeed in public, with the all "Do-You" thing that everyone has been fighting for, for some time.

Breastfeeding is giving milk to your baby. You don't cover yourself while eating, do you? You do not give people the stink eye when you see them eating pizza, so why do you when you see a momma giving milk to her baby?

I stay speechless whenever I see someone giving me or some other mom the stink eye, or commenting negatively. I want to say so much but feel like they are not going to listen.

I had the most weird experience a few months ago, and I was so speechless... -LITERALLY could not speak.
I was in social security waiting to be seen to turn in some papers. My baby was... I think a month old. Which means he slept a lot and he ate, and that's about it. I was there for so long that he woke up hungry and I couldn't leave because I could possibly miss my turn. So I naturally took my boob out and start feeding him.
Now, for story-telling purposes, you should know that at this point I wasn't very good at feeding him without the breastfeeding pillow and I wanted to register everytime he ate in the app. Which was a lot of trouble and unnecessary stress basically, specially if I was out and about.
I had only one person next to me, it was a older woman from a different race than mine-which doesn't mean anything, just giving you some context. And while I was feeding my very small fragille baby, she picked up my muslim and covered his face with it!!! I was so speechless then as I am now telling the story. What in the world did this woman have in that little head that she thought it was right to pick MY muslim and cover MY SON'S face??!! And she didn't speak too. She didn't said anything, just picked that thing, not knowing if it had spit up or something nasty (you never know), and covered his face and smiled. It was the strangest most awkward moment and I couldn't escape it either.

In what world do we live in? Where it is ok to have pratically naked woman on tv during the day, in tv shows, films, videoclips, everywhere, and it's not ok to take your boob out to give milk to your baby? Where women choose to not breastfeed because they are afraid of comments or bad looks?

Please do not judge mommas trying to feed their babies. Do not stare, it is just a boob. Do not comment on it. And please, please, do not touch them or their baby or their stuff when they have their hands occupied, because it is NOT nice or necessary. Thanks for reading :)

And if you did read this, what are your opinions on this very important matter?

I do NOT live in the UK and I am glad

I am portuguese! I love the English language and all through my teens I wished I would one day live in an English speaking country, in the Uk or Ireland to be more specific.
Now that I am older (not necessarily wiser) , I think differently. I don't think about the glorious views and fancy speaking people I always imagined. I think about the money involved. I would love to live there, IF I was Mr Burns rich. Because all the shops they have there make me want to buy almost everything, specially restaurants. I would like to never cook again unless I absolutely wanted to. Bake maybe, but have you seen the sweets they sell there? They actually look good, and who has time or belly to eat sweets all the time? I would have to eat a bought one when I wanted one and would never have time to actually bake anything. Not to talk about the price on houses. That would be an entirely different blog entry.
bleep.

FEELING MYSELF AGAIN

After being 9 months pregnant, your body changing each month and you having to adapt as you go...you feel different, you don't feel like you used to.
Your whole life and everything you knew changes. And yes, a big part of it changing so much is because of this tiny human you are growing inside of you and raising after he is born, but lets talk about another major part, which is how you feel (because that's also VERY important).
While pregnant you start not fitting in your clothes and none of the maternity wear is your style or sexy enough or cheap enough for you to buy several outfits. Maybe you can afford one pair of maternity pants, one pair of shorts and two or five sweaters. And lets face it, that's not enough for you to feel like you aren't wearing the same shit every single day.
Also, lets not sugarcoat this, after the baby is born, this will not get better, at least not fast enough. The first solid month you are a mess, specially if you are breastfeeding. It's an adjustment, from a life with no baby to a breast-out-at-all-times life. And you are still bleeding down there (sorry if this is TMI but if you're a mother you understand), and your boobs are always rigid and sore and dripping, and even when you manage to shower you stay clean for about five minutes if that because the baby will spill milk all over you. Basically, as I said, you're a mess. I'm a mess.
I had a good pregnancy, and I didn't gain a lot of weight, which means that right after I had him I was only 3kg over my pre pregnancy weight, which is great! But that doesn't mean I could fit in my old clothes, that doesn't mean I liked my old clothes, because now I feel different and maybe I want to dress differently. Weight doesn't mean shit if you don't feel good bout yourself, if you don't feel good in your own body.
Don't get me wrong, I absolutely LOVE my son and all the moments I get to spend with him, including breastfeeding, but besides being a mom I am also a woman and of course sometimes I want to feel sexy, I want to be intimate with my baby daddy, and it's difficult when your body is not the same, and I don't feel like myself.
Like everything in life: "This too shall pass!".
bleep.

Pregnancy/Labor opinions - Not everyone is the same

Being pregnant was never what I expected it to be. You hear stories and get expectations about pretty much everything in life, and when everyone tells you that it's going to be crappy, from,nausea to cramps to smelly feet and swelling of the feet, you think "well that might not be the case with me". And boy was I right. I like being right, of course, but in this case in particular I was REALLY happy I was. Because when I found out I was pregnant last September, I was not looking forward to all those negative things. For me it was only that I got tired easily, had to drink more water and have healthier eating habits, and of course the not reaching your smelly feet to wash them in the last two months or so. Yes, I had smelly feet, bit only because I could not wash them properly. Getting in the bathtub was trouble on its own.
And just like pregnancy's expectations weren't even close to my experience, labor expectations weren't either.
I has heard from many points of view what it would be like, and I cared for none of them. I thought each and every women is different and as a result, each experience is different. And boy, was I right once again... My labor wasn't even like you see in movies where the lady is having lunch out alone after a shopping day (wearing heals btw) and her water breaks and she has to rush to the hospital, call the husband, etc. No sir. My baby wasn't interested in coming out into the world. He, like many other babies, had to be forced out. Which means several things: For one, you at least know When it's going to happen, but you don't know How or What happens. Then you have the waiting, the anxiety sinks in just when you are all alone in your room waiting for the contractions to come closer together. And after all the waiting and you are ready for delivering this baby to the world, like a smack in the face, the pain that is somewhat lesser than because of the epidural (thank the heavens for the epidural) starts to hit you, and the panic that you can't control hits you, and all the bad thoughts you ever had about yourself and your capability hits you just about when you have to push or they will tear you apart to take him out. Lets not get into detail before you get scared for life and like I said, each women is different so each experience is different, so don't take my word for it when I say that labor is shit and that it's not a fairytale and no, it doesn't go all away when you see his little face for the first time, even though I wish it did. It all goes away eventually, when it sinks in, when most of the pain is gone, but not immediately unfortunately. But hey, this is just my experience ;)
He is now five and a half weeks old, and he's the most precious thing I ever could have imagined. My beautiful little chipmunk. 😍
bleep.

Coming Home #1

Today is a slow day, I officially was told to rest a lot at home and don't walk a lot by the doctor, so even more now my day is being filled with tv, youtube, books, cats and food. Youtube reminded me of the feeling of coming home after a long time away, which I had the experience of back in 2014 when I went away to Barcelona for a summer internship. Wow, that was a long time ago now that I think of it. And normally when you think about stuff that was a very long time ago, you just remember some parts because they stuck with you, they were important or branded you somehow.
Well, for me, those two months stuck really hard on my brain because I remember a substancial amount of stuff that happened.
I remember the lonely subway rides back and forth,
I remember the staying late at work because I had no one home expecting me,
I remember all the skype calls with no sound because I had no microphone,
I remember going to fnac and spending way too much time there looking at books and buying a headset with mike,
I remember the plane ride to and from there, two completely different experiences,
I remember my mom calling me and telling me grandma had gone to meet grandpa in heaven,
I remember riding a rented bike in the only rainy day ever in summery barcelona,
I remember crying my eyes out several times because I missed everyone,
I remember going to the supermarket and being asked my i.d.,
I remember being hot as hell,
I remember burning my fingers really bad and I remember the pain,
I remember working listening to radio in spanish,
I remember giving someone directions,
I remember going to a landmark and staring outside because it was expensive,
I remember volunteering at a cat shelter because I missed my cats so badly,
I remember eating pasta with cheese or grilled cheese everyday,
I remember drinking a lot of cold green tea, ´
I remember my mom's friend picking me up at the airport and treating me to lunch,
I remember cleaning my clothes,
I remember staying up till 5a.m. and going to the balcony and feeling the fresh air and watching people walk their dogs, and coming home from parties, and watering their plants and smoking at their balconies,
I remember going to walk without destination and finding an amazing ice tea place and from then on visiting it regularly,
I remember almost buying a bike,
I remember giving a cupcake to someone who had brighten up my day,
I remember especially, besides all these things, the day I left:
I remember packing the night before and skype calling my beautiful boyfriend,
I remember not being able to sleep with anxiety,
I remember leaving the house at 4a.m. and taking that monster of a bag being a nightmare,
I remember arriving at the airport,
I remember my flight being delayed an hour,
I remember being nervous,
I remember eating at the airport for an incredibly exaggerated amount of money,
I remember my heart pumping all the way since I entered the plane until I saw them,
I remember the aisle from the place you pick up your bags to the place where the families wait,
I remember seeing them for the first time in months,
I remember wanting to jump to them and hug them and never let go,
I remember leaving my cart with the bags and running to hug them,
I remember kissing my boyfriend, an intense kiss,
I remember how it felt different because I hadn't feel it in so long,
I remember hugging him being kinda weird because he was just a face in a screen for two months,
I remember crying because I was so happy to see them,
I remember every feeling from that moment as it was yesterday,
I remember it being like it went on forever.

bleep.

Mother, Oh Mother.

Today is mother's day here in Portugal. For those of you reading this that don't already know, I am pregnant :) I am currently at 33 weeks and 4 days, which is approximately 8 months and one week, which means I am almost there.
Symptoms so far I would say that cramps and discomfort is the worse part. But the best part is feeling him move, hearing his heartbeat, seeing him in the ultrasounds. The first time I heard his heartbeat I didn't know he was a he, but I got emotional and teared up a little bit. The first time I felt him move, was really soft and I wasn't sure it was him moving or hunger or something else, but as it progressed I realized it was him, like a little snake movement at the bottom of the belly. Then he would move when he heard his dad's voice, which I thought was adorable. Then we went on vacation and that's when my belly started showing, at about 22 weeks. One day we were laying in bed and I felt him move a lot so I uncovered my belly so John could see, and we actually could see him move around, it was so exciting and reassuring. I swear I never felt so excited. I had already feel him move, but John could rarely feel it because he would stop the second dad put his hand on my belly. So this moment where John could be apart of what I was going through was really exciting and emotional for me.
Some days John puts lotion on my belly, because I seriously hate the feeling of lotion on my hands, and he feels him move and he puts his mouth against my belly and talks nonsense to the baby and he kicks, like they are bonding already. At these moments, I don't feel so alone. I know I am never alone now, but I really want John to be apart of this.
I realize this post is just me ranting about my pregnancy, but that's my life now, being off work for a month now and always kind of alone, talking becomes a rarity in my days, except if you count talking to my cats. They do respond, but we never understand completely each other which is kinda maddening.
This is a photo of me at 22 weeks, and at 32 weeks.

bleep. :)

May I, I May...

May is coming, and it is an important month, specially this year. It's Mother's Day, It's my mom's birthday, my aunt's birthday, my grandma and uncle's birthdays, and also the final month of my pregnancy.
I remember taking the test and founding out I was pregnant back in September, I remember freaking out, I remember telling my family, and my boyfriend, I remember all the reactions, I remember my sister telling me she was also pregnant a few months later, I remember founding out I was having a boy, I remember founding out my sister was having a girl, I remember founding out my cousin was pregnant too, and I remember being happy. But I also remember the freaking out part, that didn't fade away completely unfortunately.
And the date becoming so close, and all the preparations needing to be ready asap, and all the pressure to do well, the freaking out is returning. Finding a day care place is hard, and I do not know how to handle it properly. Washing all the baby clothes and toys and bed wear, and ironing it all, makes me scared because I am not a person who irons, let alone a person who when tries to iron, irons well. But I also don't want to depend on my boyfriend's mom to do it, even though she doesn't mind, because I feel like I should do these things.
Even tho I know that when I start working again I will not have the power of will, neither the patience to iron when I get home on top of all the other things I will have to do. I know my mom and other moms did it, but let us be honest, they weren't cooks that worked nonstop for eight plus hours standing up. I am not under valuating their work of course, and I know efforts should be made for one's child. But ironing, must it be one of them?
May I be a mother, a good mother, and also be a woman who works hard, plays with my baby, feeds him, washs the clothes but doesn't iron? I May.
bleep.

working together

Even though I know I'm not the only one, I am sure we are few. Relationships are hard, you are with a person you love of course, but even the ones you love the most are difficult to put up with All The Time. The step you take when you move in with your boyfriend after a few months dating or even years, is a big and enough step for some couples. For me, this was an easy step, we already spent all the time together, it was just a matter of now we could sleep together as well. The next big step usually must be marriage or babies, but for us it was working together, which I came to understand isn't for every couple.
By working together you have no pauses from the other person, you are literally 24/7 with them, and as much as you love them, there will be difficult times and difficult decisions. From now on, you bring your work fights home, and your personal issues to work. You have to learn how to deal with this person who from one point of view, is a coworker, and from another, is your life, your love, your everything.
Normally people use their work to escape home stress, and their home as a break from the hard work they had that day. We cannot do that. At home we talk about everything of course, work being one of the topics. And if we have a fight at home, it reflects in our work, because the person is still there, even though you have to be professional, you are also mad at that person and you can't just turn it off.
It is difficult, but it isn't all difficulties. It's also nice to have that person to support you at work, and he understands better when you want to talk about work at home in the "how was your day" common topic.
 It takes a lot of love and patience. And compromise.
bleep.

Teen Years

I think the teenager part of my life is over...That's not a bad thing, there were many undesirable parts in there, but of course it had its moments.
I would say I had a pretty difficult time being a teenager. I had friends, then I had none, then I had some again, then I had to leave them for another school...All this meant I had a lot of free time to be with the most important person in each persons life, themselves, myself. I got to know what I like, what I don't like, and most importantly, I had time to read, and I read a lot, I had a lot of time, free periods, between classes, ride bus home... I decided to read classics and teen books, maybe books that would help me get through what seemed the most difficult part of my life. There were several which inspired me, but there were some in particular that really helped me. They didn't make me change or anything, they just made me feel like I could make it through this, and they made me feel better. One of them, was actually the first book I read as a teen, and it was "Grow up" by Ben Brooks. It's about a boy who is different and does unexpected things and is crazy, and I could relate. Another book who made me feel like things could get better was "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" by Stephen Chrosby . It's about a boy who is special and has trouble making friends. Later on, I read "Solitaire" by Alive Oseman, it's about a girl who has trouble making friends in school. They are all similar, but not at all. I made this post in the hopes I can help any teenager out there that is not going through happy phase, and just to encourage you to try, just try. Because I know it's hard, I know you'll cry, but if you just try, maybe it will get better, like it did for me.
And if you want to know, now, all those things that seem to matter, and ruin my day, just aren't important anymore. And I wish you good luck.
bleep.

Xmas '15

This will be a Grand Christmas.
I won't have my dad with me because he's spending it with his girlfriend both days,
I won't have my big sister on the 24th, neither will my aunt be there.
I will be at work until seven.
But still, I will enjoy both dinner 24th and lunch 25th with the family that is there, I'll still enjoy watching everyone's faces opening the presents I got them and I'll still have the Christmas spirit I have every year.
Merry Christmas 🎅
bleep.