WELCOME TO MY HOOD!! Well not literally, but this is my life I’ll be spilling so this is my “spot” where I will be sharing my journey on all the HOODS I will be taking on, as my family and I grow!
My name is Madala, or DALA for short. I am coming in to the part of my life where I believe the greatest transitions take place. And as I encounter these highs and lows, I want to be able to look back and reflect on everything I go through. While I’m at it, why not share with the world? I want to touch as many people as I can with my experiences, as I know there are so many more women out there who are in the same exact position.
So here I am…. jotting down some of the greatest moments of my life… to share with whoever will take the time to follow me on this journey: growing into womanhood. The biggest umbrella of a HOOD I will face, as this hood carries many other hoods in it.
I hope to inspire and aspire those who may be going through the same thing, those who need a voice about it, and anyone who can empathize and relate when it comes to life’s learning experiences for all women alike.
Thank you all for spending this time with me. Now sit tight, as I take you on a ride through my hood!
I’m not one to really make “resolutions” or start the year out with a vision board….. but one goal I have FOR SURE this year is to get Yazzie potty trained….. even if it’s just day time training for a little while!!!
She’s shown all the classic signs for at least 6 months now: pulling at the waist of the diapers….. hiding when she’s pooped…. now THIS one is hilarious….. and all the parents I’ve spoken to say their kids hide when they’ve handled their business!
I wonder why?
How do these little people know how to be embarrassed about it?
Yazzie will run or back up into her “spot”…. which is really any corner or object that she can squat down to stand on her knees and feel hidden from us whether it’s the bed or a chair….. if we walk towards her or even look at her, she quickly gives a sharp look and says “NO”….. lol!!
I’ve refrained from potty training her for these last 6 months because I was being optimistic about our living situation and didn’t want to start and then we end up finding a home and she regresses due to a new environment leaving us to start all over again……
But I’ve decided I will no longer allow our current circumstances hinder her from growing and living her best life.
And it’s time…..
Amazon has been my bestest friend these last 10 months. They have EVERYTHING…. and although I don’t really care for the politics behind what Amazon supports or what they stand for…. their services are just SO convenient for us and did I mention, they have EVERYthing?
When I started searching for potties for Yazzie… I knew I didn’t want those toy-ish looking ones that lit up and were colorful. I like certain items we have for her to be gender neutral in case we’d like to save it for future kids…. and I also didn’t want her to feel like the toilet was a toy. Not to mention all the noise and sounds from it….. I already limit those kinds of toys for her as it is…..
I’m also all about functionality……. and being able to utilize something in several ways is always a plus for me….so on Amazon I found this travel potty that has a collapsible pail and a bag that you can break the toilet down and carry it in. I thought this was genius as I really didn’t want to just have stationary kiddie toilet out and exposed in the living area and I figured it would be something we could still use when we finally do get a car and are on the road.
This toilet is sturdy.. it has three legs that allow you to position the toilet standing up on the legs or flat to place on the seats of the actual toilets. I mean these training potties are really just that: TRAINING POTTIES…..
Once she gets the hang of things she will more than likely only use this toilet if the bathroom isn’t readily available, so this works.
It’s a little on the short side though. So I just place it on top of her little lounge marshmallow chair and it’s the perfect height for her.
The first night I tried what most people suggest, and that was to put her on the toilet every 15 mins or so……. that first hour Yazzie didn’t go AT ALL…. I offered her water while we chilled and I set my timer to remind me when to sit her on….. I eventually increased the timer to 20 mins instead….. by this time she had already drunk over 8 Oz of water…… but I figured I had a little time so I started to eat my dinner…..
In less than five minutes…….. I hear Yazzie go “uh oh it’s so wet!” Standing in front of me with her legs spread.
I put my food away….. remove her shorts, wipe her down and sit her on the couch while I mop up her pee.
Put an underwear on her …. start to eat again…. and what do you know…. she’s peeing on the couch……
Alright so now I completely put my food away with no intentions on finishing it as I am cleaning and changing Yazzie again and disinfecting this couch…….
Put her in some shorts. She goes back to playing and running around.
Less than 15 mins later she’s running up to me with her shorts soaked and directing me to clean the pee puddle on the floor…
So here I go…. again… cleaning her pee puddle… and changing her…
For the THIRD time….
I’m like okay her bladder should be emptied by now…… so she’s playing on her mat and I go sit down and wait … right now I’m not sure how to time the next “sitting on the toilet”…. so I just SIT.
Less than 10 mins later….. Yazzie is peeing on her play mat…. on the floor….
The FOURTH time in less than one hour…..
W.T.F.
I decide to just clean her up and get her ready for bed (with a diaper on!) as it was approaching that time anyways….
WHAT a first day?!!!!!
Take aways:
•I definitely need to mentally prepare myself better going forward….
•every 15 mins is WAY too often…..
•keep Yazzie ON toilet when eating/drinking and a little afterwards in a better attempt to “catch” her pee and poop.
The next day I gave us both a break to just reset and re-strategize. I’ve learned this before and I don’t know why I was avoiding this, but going off what others say should really be taken with a grain of salt.
At the end of the day, I know my child best. And I know how she learns and receives change.
New game plan:
I’m gonna WEAN her out of diapers the same way I weaned her from formula.
Our morning routine now is of both of us “handling” our business….. and so far she’s done really well with this….. we’ve had 4 days of first morning pee in her toilet and one of those days we even managed a second pee soon after the first pee.
First peeeee! YAY!!!
We will continue our new morning routine and each week going forward I will increase the pee times in her toilet and get her acclimated accordingly until it all becomes natural to her…… then we will focus on her pooping and night time training. I would say comfortably, two months max will be our deadline.
I want to show her how to ease into habits that will stick. I don’t want to overwhelm her thus overwhelming myself in the end. And I definitely don’t want to have her associate using the toilet with any traumatic experience by forcing her to go or making her sit on her toilet ALL DAY LONG. I sure as hell won’t be bribing her either cause well….. using the bathroom is something that HAS to occur and that’s not something that I want her to feel she “needs” to be rewarded for… I want her to understand what she’s doing. Not just do it so she can get a treat.
This week I had a casual conversation with a friend of mine about masks and different businesses and their policies involving the use of face masks.
We were sharing thoughts and I told her my experiences with them as well as personal feelings and the question was asked ,
“What’s the big deal?”
I’m grateful for this conversation because this question is probably often thought of but the answers are very likely unheard or just ignored.
Right away all I could really get out my mouth was that it’s my right and my choice basically……
Afterwards, I found myself thinking about my reasons more because in the scenarios we were batting around in that moment, the idea of “just complying” to the use of masks and facial coverings to avoid issues and conflict just seemed like the easiest and best approach to take.
If it’s just a short compromise, then why not?
And I do agree… it just makes things trouble-free for everyone to just “do” as they are told.
But here’s the thing that’s not being considered with the times that we are currently living in known as the Covid 19 pandemic……
Our compliance fuels our governments control and dictatorship.
Yes, even something as small as putting on a mask for 2 minutes to run into a corner store for a bottle of water.
Masks reduce oxygen levels….. and the constant breathing back in your own carbon dioxide? …. I mean sure…. for some people the length of time for this to occur is very short. But it’s a daily thing now and has been a daily thing for almost a year!!! Anything toxic whether big or small, over a long period of time builds up and never has positive effects.
That’s like drinking soda every day…… even if it’s just 1-2 cans ……every day…….
Do that for several months to several years and see how healthy (or not) you are.
And let’s not talk about the amount of bacteria growing on some of these masks because let’s face it….. if people weren’t washing their hands or using toilet paper prior to this pandemic….. what makes us think they are properly disposing, changing, or washing these masks and face covers????
It’s been 10 months now, and all of our lives have been altered in one way or another. How we travel, how we make money, where we eat, who we see, how we learn, worship, mourn and celebrate has all been decided for us.
Just about everything.
Even down to HOW WE BREATHE.
Something as simple as the freaken air we breathe is being elected for us.
And we, Americans, pretty much have just disregarded the fact that this is the “Land of the Free” and that we have rights that govern us…. there IS a constitution and there ARE amendments that are supposed to protect us…..
When I make that personal choice not to mask up… it isn’t about a “mask”….
I’ve always worn a mask to perform certain services as an esthetician, and have worn masks when I was feeling under the weather when I worked in a salon. I don’t have issues with the masks besides that they are stupid, useless, ineffective and harmful to healthy people (in regards to this covid virus and constant long term use)
It isn’t about me “not getting my way”, or me “not liking to be told what to do” (although it IS my prerogative lol)
This is about taking back our lives and showing our government that whatever it is that they are trying to pull ain’t gonna fly here in the U.S of A.
Cause you see, this is how it all starts…… something small like “requiring” the use of masks…..
So the masses become conditioned and think all of these things are for the greater good and to protect those around you…
First it’s “just a mask”…
And “it’s just a test to know if asymptomatic people have it or not”
Then “it’s just a lockdown to flatten the curve”
And “it’s just a vaccine…. you should get it to lessen symptoms”…
And it changes to….
“You CAN’T travel”
“You CAN’T update proper licenses and identification”
“You CAN’T shop”
“You CAN’T go to the movies”
“You CAN’T go outside”
( amongst all other things….)
Unless …………
you’ve taken the covid vaccine and are up to date and you make sure you carry your “covid card” for proof……
But wait……. majority of the things I just listed already take place NOW.
So my questions to those reading this…..
how much more will it take?
How much longer?
When do you decide all of this is unnecessary and ridiculous for a virus that has a 99.97% survival rate?
When will you really start demanding that what WAS normal will CONTINUE to be normal and not what everyone has now accepted as their NEW normal?
I mean, I get it…… it’s kinda scary to be the “oddball”….. especially when those around you give you looks and make comments and treat you like you are walking around soaked with AIDS infected blood.
It’s no fun to have to fight people who have let the media scare and fear monger them. And it takes a lot of energy and a heap of confidence to stand up against what has been publicly presented over the course of this pandemic.
I, myself, am coming around to it….. I do what I have to do, where and when I have to do it for the sake of my family and even more so for the sake of not having my daughter around to see the haste that others may bring upon me and her, especially since we are on foot most of the time. But as I said to my friend…. boy if we had a car right now…. I surely would be one of those who would proudly wreak havoc and fight for my rights EVERY WHERE I STEP FOOT. Cause if I don’t do it for me and my family…… and even for you and yours….. who the fuck will?
Now I’m not downplaying those who have experienced severe symptoms with this…. or who have loved ones that had it. Nor am I taking a jab at those who actually want to wear these masks.
Although I do want to challenge those individuals to use their critical thinking skills and ask themselves why if they are perfectly healthy, and not healthcare workers….. are they feeling the need to wear a mask?
The CDC and WHO have both mentioned that masks are only recommended for those who are sick and those who are healthcare workers.
There are disclaimers on mask packaging that advises that they DO NOT PROTECT AGAINST THE COVID VIRUS.
I’ve spoken to several individuals who work in the health field who attest to the fact that masks are worn by those who are sick, to protect others from transmission, not the other way around.
The media has the masses thinking they are all contagious asymptomatic carriers and need to wear masks as a precaution in an attempt to protect those around them….
But protect them from WHAT if you are healthy?
and even if you ARE an asymptomatic carrier…. you will not transmit the virus to those around you as many studies have proven.
Allow me to “reintroduce” myself as currently I’ve added a few more identities.
My name is Madala, or Dala for short (she/her) I am a full time wife and mama to our beautiful and vibrant 2.5 year old rainbow baby. Most people know me as the “eyebrow & eyelash” lady as I’ve been an esthetician who specializes in brows and lashes for over 16 years now. A good handful of people know that I can cook my ass off and I love “feeding the village” when I can….lol…..
Since becoming a mama, I’ve also become a SAHM (stay at home mom) who WFH (works from home) running my own esthe business.
A few other things have been added on to my belt of what makes Dala, ……DALA…..
In the last couple of years I’ve grown an immense fire for pro choice and medical freedom. I guess this is the “mama bear” in me who’s wallowed in countless studies and peer reviews and personal testimonies from other freedom fighting individuals who want nothing but safety and choice for our little ones as we all know: WE ARE THEIR VOICES.
In my independent research, I’ve learned so much about the poisons and risks of vaccines…. and the politics of big pharma and the government and the control over the health departments and businesses that they have…… which alludes to only a few obvious things …. and that is “money & power”……. not the “greater good” of our people. But western medicine and modern technology isn’t ALL the way bad …. when it’s used for the right reasons. I mean I’m not totally against medicines…. there’s just a time and a place… and there’s usually alternatives and options that can be given before even resorting to such measures.
Informed consent is one of the biggest things missing in healthcare settings and this is where shit pisses ME off cause I’ll be damned if you, (who I’m supposed to TRUST with the health and life of me and my family) not only hide the TRUTH from me but you think you will just coerce me into allowing you to do what you please with our bodies?
HELL NO….
I’ll say it again….
HELL TO THE NO.
What else have I bagged since becoming a mama……
The love for everything “birthy” and the fervid inclination to guide and help other families experience how beautiful physiological birth is and can be.
If you know me or have followed my blog…. you know we had a home birth with our daughter. Our pregnancy and delivery was uncomplicated and uninterrupted….. this drove me to want to share with any and every one who would listen about natural births specifically with a midwife at home or at a birthing center ….. in doing this I also learned that resources are pretty scarce for a lot of groups. Particularly POC.
I know this because as an esthetician I serve mainly POC… so all the pregnancy and birth story exchanges come from the mouths of our very own black and brown birthing people. We all know how fucked up the health system is and how the care and treatment for black and brown people is 2-3 times less than that of our white counterparts.
My heart aches for my POC.
And I’ve been compelled to use my knowledge, my privileges…. and my voice to help our communities……. especially through pregnancy and birth.
A lot of side talk in this post right? Lol…. my apologies….
I just felt the need to explain my “WHY” ……
Why I decided to become a Doula.
I was a little conflicted at first because anyone who knows me, knows I LOVE fitness and had dreams of pursuing something in that realm….. and then I got tossed into another arena called “birth work”…. and didn’t know how I could still fulfill both passions
……. then it clicked…..
I can still indulge in fitness and also specialize in pre and postnatal coaching….. all of this ties into my pining to help improve the maternal and infant mortality rates within the black and brown communities because stereotypically we are some of the most unhealthy races alive whether we live in poverty, experience food insecurities, or we just have horrible habits….. and these are the things that work against us birthing people in the medical setting. Because all of these things make a person “high risk” for something deathly…… therefore limiting the options available according to the health professionals.
So in combining fitness and health with advocating birth work……
I can maybe…
just MAYBE….. help a person or two beat the system…. and prove the stigmas wrong.
Lastly….. one identity that I never thought I’d EVER have to experience again (especially as an adult with a child)….. is homelessness and being without a car.
This one has been one hell of an identity to carry.
How did we get to this place?
Well while everyone’s been cussing out 2020 for being such a horrific year….. we’d already met our match all of 2019.
Instead of being able to enjoy being new parents we were thrown some ugly and big ass lemons to curve any ounce of happiness we should’ve been living in.
We went from being wrongfully evicted, to getting scammed from a rental home scammer….. to losing BOTH cars…. to fighting a legit spiritual war with an individual who happened to be our private landlord at that time and who was a nightmare in itself. Our pride and wanting to make sure our daughter would be mobile led us to desperately seek out a used car with a local dealership who lured us into a fraudulent situation where they falsified our applications for bank approvals, only to have it backfired due to whatever discrepancies they entailed on their ends, which landed us in yo-yo financing ( I will eventually make a separate post about) that pretty much meant we were driving in a car with no bank financing. Little did we know this dealership already had plans to keep our down payment AND take the car. And they did. So again, we are car-less…. and at the same time we are fighting this demonic atmosphere that we live in (and I am not exaggerating when I use those terms…. again… I will share that experience in a separate post as well)…. this environment is so toxic and was taking such a toll on our lives that we opted for yet another eviction.
And so here we are.
It’s been a little over a year now since we first checked in to an extended stay-like motel.
To say that out loud or even share here is embarrassing and shameful. But to say that in retrospect and reflect on where we are now compared to that very first day that we checked into that motel….. I’m humbled and grateful for this experience.
Not knowing if we’d make enough to pay for another week…. not knowing if we’d have enough money leftover from paying the week to wash whatever clothes we had with us…or if we’d even have enough to cover the monthly storage fees and whatever other bills we may have still had to upkeep …….not knowing if we could afford a decent and fulfilling meal for ourselves after making sure our daughter had her diapers, fruits, and her preferred meals…
Not having a home or space to raise our daughter…. not having a vehicle to run errands or drive her to what we think are memorable experiences has radically forced us to grow in ways that I would’ve never imagined.
We haven’t been completely alone through all of this. God has certainly stayed at the heart of all of this and he continues to surround us with a multitude of “earth angels” who rocks with us through and through whether it’s a ride, a follow up text, a prayer, monetary funds, meals…… groceries….. just positive words and encouragement…… he’s provided us with an army of Angels.
And because of his mercy on us…..
we are …. still… here.
I have recently started a go fund me campaign in hopes of getting help from the community with the continuation of my doula and fitness trainings as well as materials and supplies and jumpstarting my business. I’ve taken this leap and refuse to back down whether I get help or not. There are so many families out here to serve, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing…..
Thank you to everyone who has read this far and a special thank you to all of those who are praying for us and contribute in any way to us. May God forever pour his favor over you all.
HAPPY FREAKEN NEW YEAR YA’LL!
This is the year to step into our powers and walk in our purpose……!!
Today our Angel took me down memory lane. And I wasn’t ready.
My husband’s been looking for his USB drive for the last couple of weeks. We’ve been in this new home for about 4 months now… and some items are still bagged away or in boxes somewhere and we have no idea where things are.
Tonight I had an urge to rummage through one of the closets and see what I can find.
Old photos, bags of bolts and screws…. wrench….. hammer….. documents….
Ah….. USB drive…. probably not exactly the one he was seeking but I found one at least……
And then I came across this baby blue gift box that’s used for gift cards. I had an idea what could be inside…. so I opened up to double check….
I was right.
It was the sonogram pictures from our Angel.
This overbearing wave of heaviness just invaded my space as I sat there on the floor in our hallway, crying.
I’d seen this very photo in my albums on my iPhone numerous times since we lost our Angel. Even watched the video of his heart beating on occasion.
But the last time I laid eyes on and physically held those photos in my hands was the day I lost him. I remember I’d JUST lost him and collected him into a small Tupperware. And I quickly grabbed these photos off of our refrigerator and just tucked them away in this gift box as a way to not see the pain that was coming.
Silly me….. just because I no longer saw it, didn’t mean I would no longer feel it. But you know, “out of sight, out of mind” was my logic.
Touching those photos made me relive those moments like it just happened.
That heavy “heart in my throat” feeling took over again and I have yet to stop weeping still while writing this post as I’m remembering how bad it twisted my soul in that moment.
It reminded me that my amazing body was supposed to be his vessel of life….. and at the same time it was his vessel of death. All in one place.
Made me remember that feeling OF life and also feeling him slip away as my body rejected his little developing body.
It’s like my body just gave up on him.
“Son, my Angel….
I feel you.
In every cell of my body, every ounce of my being.
Maybe you just wanted to see if you were still thought of and missed.
Just like THAT…… she’s 1. And we made it…. we ALL survived the first year in one piece.
I’ve spent the last two days reliving the events leading to our Yazzie joining us earthside.
I can recall our every move from the moment I had my “bloody show”, to making a Whole Foods run…. and taking care of errands before stopping by subway to grab something to eat because our midwife kept pushing me to eat, drink, and rest in preparation for delivery. All the while I’m in labor as we carry on these extra activities in those two days.
Well we knew labor had started, but didn’t think it was the real deal since I wasn’t dilated much. So in our minds we weren’t panicked or in any sense of urgency to just chill. But everyone else around us seemed to have noticed that IT was time, as all we were greeted with in those two days were jaw drops and big eyes wondering why were in the streets and not in a hospital somewhere! Lol!
These last 365 days of our lives was tough. We’ve encountered incalculable obstacles. So much that I won’t even speak of in this post alone. Many of the worst things you can think to go through, happened to us.
God’s plan.
That’s what all of this was. To mold and build us for the next level up.
God’s life for us is way bigger than we’d ever plan for ourselves. And He said these were the steps we were to take in order to achieve what He’s already set for us. So as we always do, we embrace it and accept it.
Besides all the difficulties….. we’ve been so blessed to have such amazing family and even more blessed to have Yazzie with us. Nothing fills my heart more than my little girls’ hugs and kisses. She’s such a joy to have.
All the sleepless nights…. all the fears of failure… the postpartum anxiety, that has subsided but has not yet left me, are all so worth it just to see her little face light up and have her palms against my face as she pulls me in to smell me.
O.M.G.
My freakin ovaries.
I’m clutching them tight…. but damn…. I would do it all over a million times.
“HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY MY SWEETFACE!! Mama and Pops love you so much…..”
It’s been a while. Life has completely taken over. Yazzie has completely taken over.
I feel like my hustling, business mind is back. Mom Brain is still in affect. But my drive is in full force now. I’m more determined than ever to build our brand and legacy and show Yazzie from an early age that hustling spirit. I want her to be around powerful and business minded people. Go getters. Bosses.
And that’s exactly what I plan to do: have her around BOSSES.
A mom.
Momprenuer.
An ULTRAmomprenuer.
That’s my new title. And it’s all because of this little human who will be turning 1 in less than a month!!! (Goodness! Where did time go?)
By the way, It’s Mother’s Day.
I’m filled with such mixed emotions about it…… I’ve been asked numerous times “this is your first Mother’s Day isn’t it?” ….. and I answer “yes” with a smile… and it feels accurate to agree…. then my heart feels guilty that I do agree. Even if it’s just to avoid the conversation that I don’t have just Yazzie that I’m a mama to two. Because in the flesh and earthside, it’s evident I’m a mama to just Yazzie. But my heart and soul knows I have two.
Everyones excitement for me is genuine and filled with so much love that I get to celebrate my first official year being a mom. And I’m embracing it all, at the same time I feel borderline shamed.
Like I’ve fed into it and have forgotten, even for a quick moment that last year Mother’s Day, to me, was my first Mother’s Day.
I woke up excited and sad today. As I’m grateful for the opportunity….. but I’m also reminded of the missing pieces. This day will forever be stamped in my memory for bittersweet reasons because on this day 2 years ago, I celebrated the news of being pregnant with our first.
Will this grief ever get easier? It seems to get harder as time passes.
Overall, I am happy and blessed…. that I am a mama of TWO.
When me and my husband first started dating, I dreamt about our son. For the bulk of our relationship, I’ve dreamt maybe 4 dreams in total, of this little boy. Because of this, I always felt like our first child was going to be a boy.
When we lost our Angel, we were 1.5 weeks shy of being able to do blood work to determine the gender. So nothing was ever confirmed. And I never dreamt about our son again after our loss.
In my “mama’s” heart, I just knew that was our son. My husband on the other hand felt the opposite. So we both just referred to our Angel as a baby girl and Yazzie’s Sissy.
Well today, while Yazzie and I were at the post office, this older woman waiting in line behind us compliments Yazzie and asks how old she is. I politely reply and the lady goes “And your son, he’s such a sweetheart…. He opened the door for me....”
*swallows spit*
I answered her that I didn’t have anyone else here with me. She kind of just turned away a little embarrassed. We left the conversation at that.
Now, I examined the room and every individual in it. There was a young boy about 4/5 years old standing closer to the door. But he was much darker than me and Yazzie. My husband wasn’t with us, so it’s not like the lady could assume that boy belonged to me. And when I told her there was no one else with me, she didn’t even bother to acknowledge this kid that was actually standing 9-10 ft away from us to say that there was the boy whom she had mistaken for my son.
I instantly thought to myself, “this is our Angel…”
I had to swiftly fix my face and focus on why I was in the post office.
A surge of old and new feelings came over me. I felt that heartache all over again, and at the same time I felt whole and relieved.
And so proud that our son, even in spirit, is just as polite as his daddy…… holding doors for people.
So before becoming a mother, I had to figure out how to understand my body and conceive.
Then throughout my pregnancies, I learned about the common occurrences of miscarriage, and that my body is utterly amazing.
And now this part…….
Again… I’m figuring it out on my own: this “phase” after having a baby. This period of hormonal imbalances… paired with life imbalances, loss of self identity, and sleep deprivation.
What IS sleep anymore?
I’ve noticed that in my own culture and even in most groups of minorities, no one identifies all the feels of this time as postpartum. Nor do they associate the two together.
Well I’m living it. I never denied having it mildly. But I also didn’t think I had it bad.
Today, I’m not so sure I agree with that.
I.Broke.Down.
It is my nature to be strong. To be “super woman”. Always figuring stuff out. Taking loads on my shoulders and carrying whoever needs a freakin ride on my back. And with trying to balance this new life of being a mom….. it’s been hard on me to maintain my roles as not only a wife, but a woman too.
I’m the type who will just find alternatives and try to solve everything. Make things easy for everyone else around me. Not realizing, that now, I have to slow down and take a step back from that “handling business” nature….. and just breathe.
Whoever doesn’t know, and to all who doesn’t believe….
Postpartum is real.
It is strong, it is hard….. it exists.
It’s not just thoughts of harming yourself or your baby. It’s all the feels of irritability, being overwhelmed, feeling alone, feeling doubtful, feeling like a failure, feeling like you are not enough. It’s the anger you feel when you just want to “be” but your baby doesn’t know that… all she knows is that mommy is her safe haven and she wants her cuddles and LOTS of attention. It’s lacking the desire to do the things that used to make your heart happy…. and after all those emotions, the guilt kicks in…. and now you have a whole ‘nother set of “feelings” to digest. And it’s so much to handle at once….
If you’re anything like me, you will just take it all, and deal with it alone. Cause in your brain, you think you’ve got a chokehold on this thing they call “womanhood“.
And really you’re just a lost puppy trying to find her way.
For any of you who know mothers…. whether they are new mamas, vet mamas, first time or fifth time….. check on them.
Often.
Even if you can’t physically do anything to help. Just acknowledge her and her efforts. Tell her she’s doing amazing. And remind her that she’s human. Or just give her a hug. Grab the baby/kids. Let her shower. Let her eat. Let her just exist with no expectations.
As you get older, you will quickly learn that there are some not so nice people in the world.
The texture of your hair…
The color of your skin…
Everything that makes you, YOU…
Will not be accepted by everyone. And those people will say and even try to do hurtful things.
When we start your curriculum about U.S. history, we will cover a lot of this. And you will learn about several courageous people who worked hard to make sure we are all treated equal.
But let me tell you about your Father. Because if anyone can tell you what it feels like to be mistreated just because of how you look, it will be him.
On this day, January 21st….. twenty-one years ago something took place that changed your Father’s life forever. Someone was mean, very mean and tried to hurt Dada because he looked different. Because his skin was darker. But your Dada was so strong, my Love Bug. That man didn’t succeed in taking your Dada’s life.
I want you to know, you’ll have to be careful. You’ll have to be strong with thickskin. At the same time you’ll have to act with love. And in a lot of cases you will have to forgive as much as you can. But don’t ever let anyone tell you that you are not beautiful…. that you are not worthy….. that you are not smart…… that you “can’t”…. you “aren’t”…. or you “won’t”…….
Because you ARE…
You CAN….
and you WILL.”
When I first got with my husband, it wasn’t a matter of dating him because he was “black”. I grew up seeing NO color. All these years before having Yazzie…. I didn’t even think about this “mix” that we would create living in this world of such hate, racism and discrimination. Now that she’s here, there’s so much that we’ve got to prepare her for. So much that we’ve got to prepare ourselves for.
Like making sure she embraces both sides of her and be ready for all the turmoil that she may face. I will try my best to have her know and appreciate her Hmong roots. But I’m not blinded to the possibility that she may mostly identify herself as a Black Woman. So I need to equip myself, and her, with the proper knowledge and tools to get her through life and this world as such. Yes, my husband is our biggest teacher. He can relate and show her how to navigate this world being “black”. But it will be my duty to teach her how to conquer this world as a woman.
What my husband and I dreaded for the last couple of weeks… finally happened.
At the first sight of this overly excited movement, jolting back with an extra blast of energy exerted into the very existence of this “fall”, we knew we had to prepare our hearts for the halt that would take place in our pulses.
For days we spoke about the “what if’s” and how it’s going to be. We plotted how we could prevent it from occurring. We sought out ways to soften this cascade. We mustered up the courage to accept that it will happen and we just have to deal.
But in the back of our minds, we weren’t ready.
Well that day came…. it happened.
I’m in the kitchen finally meal prepping, and frying up a batch of homemade, no-yeast donut holes. My husband is outside with the guys, and Yazzie is on the floor playing with her toys….
I finish making the glaze for the second half of my donut holes, which by the way taste like funnel cakes and look like fritters or beignets. As I am about to dip the last bit of fried goodness into the glaze I hear this loud “THUMP”.
First place I look is on the floor for Yazzie. MawMaw is on her back facing me upside down, with a startled look on her face. Within seconds she lets out a huge cry. I put down everything in my hands and grab Yazzie, comforting her while I text my husband:
“It happened….”
He races inside to come console his Princess and gives her permission to hold his gold chain. (He usually tells her “no”) I wipe her tears and all is well. MawMaw is a trooper and finds more delight in the fact that she is able to freely hold the gold cross that dangles from her daddy’s neck.
Yup. That “fall”…. that hard HARD drop of Yazzie’s poor little head, straight onto the ground.
Alright…. we are quite melodramatic…. but who wants to witness their child potentially put themselves in harms way? We knew this day would come. But still we weren’t prepared for it. No slowing down now… this is the first of many more to come. She’s 7 months now.
We love seeing her grow… but man…
“Yazzie, can you just stay being a baby a little longer?……And by that I mean the ones who aren’t as curious yet???!!!”
Dala the Doula 