Archives for category: 3-6 Months

Hi ladies, I need some support and I guess here is an appropriate place. My boss had a baby last week so her boss is in charge. She’s giving me a hard time about pumping – she has made comments about how I shouldn’t be using a certain office and I need to find a different place to pump. Today I stood up to her and explained that I’m back at work because I genuinely want to be there – I care about our clinic and I’m a hard worker – but I can’t work for her if she doesn’t understand that I need to pump. Then she told me that it was a private issue and I should not have mentioned it in a meeting (“I said I would be happy to see a client but needed to pump first” in front of other staff.) I told her it was not a personal comment, that it’s normal to pump I’m just explaining what I’m doing and she said if it were her she would keep it private. Also, the other staffi mentioned it in front of us a man who also had a new baby and whose wife pumps at work!! All of my coworkers are super supportive and don’t even blink an eyelash when I say I have to go pump – this is a WOMEN’s clinic I work in! For the county of LA no less! And she is a thirty-something woman; shame on her  for not supporting other women. It’s ridiculous – a perfect example of a woman using her power against other women in the work world to get ahead. Pumping should be normalized – it’s bad enough I have to leave my baby every day and pump at work. I’m so frustrated – I stood up to her and it backfired. She is a young director, single with no kids but has pictures of her little nephews all over her office. Maybe she’s subconsciously jealous.

Last night was J’s office party at a swanky downtown hotel. I was so excited – got my hair cut and styled, got dressed up, did my makeup. Gia had a rough day, very fussy which isn’t like her, and also very giggly. When the nanny arrived, Gia smiled and cuddled with her. She must be having a cognitive growth spurt because she was staring at herself in the mirror, touching her hands to her reflection, then staring into my eyes, and when the nanny came, she stared at her face and ran her little hands along her cheeks. It was like she was on ecstasy.

I had an initial STRONG vodka drink which made me silly. By the time we got from the pre-party to the hotel, though, I started to miss Gia. We chatted with other parents and ate a nice dinner. I had some champagne. Realized I’d have to pump and got 3 oz with the hand pump in a bathroom stall, then dumped it into the toilet. I’ve never done this before – used the hand pump in a bathroom stall or dumped milk out. It actually worked well, but of course seems like a waste. I began to miss her so much. I didn’t want to drink anymore so I ordered seltzer and water and eventually admitted to J that I just wanted to go home.  

J stayed out with her coworkers, who are a truly awesome bunch, and I took an uber home. I want her to have fun,she works hard, she deserves it. I got home at 11:30. Gia had been sleeping like an angel in her crib pretty much since we left. She’s such a trooper! It was easier to be out knowing she was with our nanny since she’s used to her and loves her. 

On my birthday last week, I had a big glass of wine and told Gia she had to drink a bottle and she did! A very rare thing.  


Nap time


From the nanny – fast asleep right at bedtime!



I write posts in my head while driving or showering, then go back and forth about giving up the blog since I don’t have time to write. This community is important to me though, and was such a big part of creating Gia, so I will stick to short posts and try to do them a little more frequently. I read your posts and feel guilty about not commenting, too. I guess a little is better than nothing!
For a few weeks Gia was going through the 4-month sleep regression, or maybe it was teething or a growth spurt of adjusting to my return to work, who knows. We had some long nights of her crying, waking up constantly, and nursing all night, for hours at a time. 

Things have gotten better and the Gia household is doing well. I’m enjoying being back at work a lot – social work this time of year is necessary so my interactions with clients are rewarding. I love my team and feel invigorated. I’m also drowning in paperwork which is a familiar feeling – optimal stress tipping towards overwhelming stress. For awhile J and I were struggling to agree on certain things and our interactions were tense, but we’ve found our footing when it comes to co-parenting and our relationship, and we’re feeling connected again and having fun. We’ve been away the last couple of weekends, in Palm Springs with friends, then in San Diego for Thanksgiving. Now I’m excited for my birthday, which is tomorrow, and Christmas, which is my favorite time of year. 

Gia is amazing. She has her moments, but overall we are lucky to have an easygoing and adorable little girl. She weighs over 18 pounds and is 27 inches, and can roll over from back to tummy now. She also has a TOOTH! At four months! She continues to refuse a bottle from anyone but the nanny, no matter what we do. Thank goodness she’s learned to drink it while I’m at work though.  

In Palm Springs with my good friend and Gia’s birthday twin:   

Refusing a bottle as usual, making it difficult for me to enjoy a cocktail:
In the hot tub with swim diaper (warm, not hot!): 

 At the martini bar on Black Friday – our first time out without Gia!  


Going to work tomorrow morning may tear me apart. It may just be uncomfortable but nice to be back in the swing of things. I wish I could do maternity leave all over again. Gia is such a funny, chill baby she makes things easy but she makes it so hard to leave. 


God this whole motherhood thing is incredible. On a daily basis I am terrified, elated, overcome with compassion and devotion, and amazed at some tiny thing she’s done – her half smile when she notices something small, like me crunching pumpkin seeds, her grabbing the window blinds with abandon as I try to pick her up from the changing station. What can I say except that I’m smitten?

I used to be smug about not wanting children – I thought (please don’t judge me, or do because I deserve it) that people with children were provincial. How predictable and boring to have a world filled with diapers, snacks, kid activities. And the baby voice! I hated that shit. 

Well I’m a convert. The other day in breast feeding support group the facilitator told us to befriend each other (which we already have) because from now on, we will want to share our time with other parents. A few years ago I would have gratefully opted out of a comment like that – a club I didn’t want admission to. But yesterday, that bit of honest insight struck my heart. There I was, in a room full of women who had just been through an experience similar to the mind-blowing, ass-kicking one I had. The woman to my left had her son at 28 weeks and spent months in the NICU and quarantined in her home with her tiny newborn. The woman to my right experiences blood-curdling screams every day while her son is in the car seat, leading to dread and guilt and struggle. I had just shared during my check-in that it was my last group and that if arrived there my first time in tears because I didn’t know how to get Gia from the car into the facility. Now I was completely at home in that modern red tent, sharing not just breast feeding tips with these same women every week, but my raw heart. Not only can I get Gia out of the car, I can eat or shop with her tucked in her wrap, breastfeed in the Ergo while shopping, and do tummy time with her while folding cloth diapers. 

But becoming a mother has been scary. I recently heard somewhere that having a child is like ripping your heart out and watching it walk around, vulnerable, outside of your body. 

When I was in high school I was severely depressed. I was the girl walking from class to class (at a fancy prep school in Connecticut, mind you, surrounded by peppy, rich, lacrosse-playing, J.Crew-wearing classmates) with my stringy hair in my face, crying. I was the emo girl, rough around the edges, but getting quickly attached to friends and lovers, then dumped for being too intense. The first time I cried for hours because I’d fallen into the black hole that is depression, my boyfriend at the time bailed, not knowing how to console me and calling my mother to duty on his way out the door. She rubbed my back for hours. I don’t know how she even went to work the next day, she must have been so fatigued. Moreover, it must have killed her to watch me sob for hours for no reason. 

These days I still rely on my mom in my darkest hours, discuss my most important decisions with her, and want to share my little joys with her. I call her before anyone else in my life, except for J. Despite not feeling an affinity for motherhood, I’ve realized since having Gia that I feel an affinity for mother-daughter relationships and always have. I hope Gia will come to me the way I do with my mom. I hope she’ll feel comfortable. Sometimes I get so excited to have this relationship, I can’t wait. I picture the days Gia might confide in me on the way home from school, or over coffee in our kitchen on a Saturday morning. I can’t believe that someday soon she’ll wobble into my arms on her own, pick out her own clothes, tell me about her day. 

I’m beyond honored to finally have my own daughter. If I can be for her what my own mother is for me, I will have a life full of rich conversations, laughs and closeness.