When You Have Family in the New York Frontlines of COVID-19

So I don’t know where to begin. But we all have to start somewhere. We all know someone who knows someone who knows someone who’s in the trenches of this war against COVID-19. Or perhaps we are that someone. I do know someone, my cousin V (read: close to me like a big sis) who just happens to be a seasoned emergency room nurse in New York, married to another emergency room nurse. Mother of 3, plus my 83 year old aunt lives with them. I’ve seen the news and all the social media about New York. I’ve prayed and bided my time and waited to call them because I know they’re rotating 12 hour shifts, sometimes back to back, and I didn’t want to intrude or wake them when they were home. But on the cusp of a conference call from work re: safety protocols (I will be returning to work soon as an essential health care worker) I needed to hear advice from someone who’s been doing this for a long time. She called me back on the drive home. It is different reading the bad news on social media. It is WAY worse hearing it in the voice of one who was basically my big sister growing up.

These are the sobering highlights of her phone call.

1. This is a war. Make no mistake. Her observations: A patient entering an ER in NY exhibiting COVID19 symptoms serious enough to need medical attention has a fifty fifty chance of dying. 50/50.
2. Her shifts in the ICU: the patients “were dropping like flies,” coding all around her, one after the other after the other like a bad dream. Once a patient is intubated it is “simply a matter of time.” She has never seen anything like this in her 30+ years as a nurse. Once a patient has passed and is wheeled away, another arrives to take their place and the horror begins anew.
3. The dying do not have a chance to have family there. There are no more visitors allowed. Ever.
4. The morgue can not hold all the dead. Refrigerated trucks await in the bay and are filled to maximum capacity (100 bodies) before being driven away and replaced by another truck. She doesn’t want to know what happens to them. She has to finish her shift. All hands on deck.
5. The numbers in the news feel low to her. She feels like it is much much higher than what the news media is saying about NY. She is angered at Trump and can not watch the TV anymore.
6. N-95 masks are rationed and signed out by employee name. They are tight and painful. They stay on for the whole 12 hour shift with perhaps a short break for a quick meal. She is naturally claustrophobic but she stays the course and all PPE remain on including protective eye wear.
7. Decontamination protocols before arriving home from work necessitates removal of work clothing while in their attached garage, placing clothing in plastic bag and sealed to be washed later separate from other laundry, then run to shower before interaction with anyone or anything inside the home.
8. She wears a surgical mask at home and doesn’t hug her children or her elderly mom for their safety. Her husband does the same. She makes light of the matter by joking that her sons are teenagers, they don’t miss her hugs. She says “Sarah hug them now when they’re little cuz once they’re 13 , 15, 17 years old and up they think you’re weird and won’t hug you.” 😞
9. She prays every day to not catch the virus or bring it home with her. She prays to live another day so she can help people the next day. And the next and the next and the next.

I cried a little inside. I asked her : WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO TELL MY CIRCLE, MY FRIENDS, NEIGHBORS AND THE REST OF THE FAMILY. And how do I proceed with caution when I go back to work?

She said:

1. Stay home. PLEASE PLEASE STAY HOME if you can.
2. Essential tasks only, and wear a mask when in public.
3. Hug and appreciate your loved ones specially your kids: you never know when you may not be able to hold them someday 😭
4. For work: Keep your PPE on. Treat everyone as if they are already positive for COVID-19. Wash hands, decontaminate and do not deviate from protocols. No shortcuts, no exceptions.
5. Please pray for everyone who is risking their own lives fighting this war so that we may live.

I love and respect my cousin and she is one of the bravest and most generous people I have ever known. (In 1992 she flew from NY and took a leave of absence to take care of us when my ma was recovering from brain tumor surgery when I was 15). I hope her words resonate with you as they did with me. We are blessed to be able to stay safe at home. We still have a chance to flatten the curve and slowly inch our way back to a semblance of normalcy. Let’s take care of each other. We are all in this together. Be kind. Plan ahead. Stay smart. Stay safe. Stay home.

My Other Birthday (The Day My Life Began Again)

It's taken me two years to write about what happened to me. But I remember it like it was yesterday. It's what made me love and appreciate life to the fullest, and to never take anything for granted. It's also the reason why I have vowed to love what I eat, and not settle for anything less. And also, it's the reason my husband and I will not be having any more children.

Saturday February 20, 2016: I was 36 weeks pregnant and working one of the busiest days of the year in my industry. My husband and 5 year old had caught the flu a week prior, so when I felt hot and cold and nauseous at work that day, I mistakenly thought it was the flu. My patients voiced their concern: "Hey, doc, you don't look so hot. Are you in labor?" I laughed weakly and said no, I'm fine. The day went from bad to worse, as I sat in the private office in a cold sweat with pains so bad I was wondering how I'd make it home. I asked my colleague to take up my patient load. I asked to leave early. I drove home somehow, weaving in and out of traffic fighting to stay awake and even picked up a pizza, but I was too sick to eat. I crawled into bed shivering and promptly threw up multiple times. I slept fitfully and woke at 1:00 am and thought I peed myself: my water had broken. I finally realized my febrile pain was not the flu. I was in preterm labor.  My in laws rushed to the house within half an hour so my husband and I could head to the hospital.

3:00 am and the OB on call took one look at me and said calmly, "Well, now, young lady, we have no time for an epidural as baby is in distress. We will do a crash C under general (anesthesia) and you will be fine." I do not remember what happened next. Upon recovery: my husband texts me a photo he snapped of the baby before they took him away. He was almost full term and doing fine in the NICU.  The strep B infection in my uterus had spread to him, so he needed to stay for antibiotic treatment and 24/7 tube feeding to increase his growth.  I wasn't doing as well as he; my kidneys weren't working. My white blood cell count was through the roof. My labs were plummeting. The doctors wondered how I was able to be lucid and sit up. Words like "sepsis" and "multiple organ failure" were bandied about. With my healthcare background and education, I knew I should've been worried but I was too exhausted to care. I just prayed and trusted that I was in good hands in one of the best hospitals in the area, and that I was in America, where healthcare is supposed to be at its finest.  My mother came, and my brothers. I was worried and afraid when I was transferred to the SICU for 24/7 intensive monitoring, because the SICU was reserved for patients in the direst of conditions, plus it was located in an entirely different building than where my baby was. My husband had to go home to our son and life at home had to continue on without me. 

Thus began my 19 day harrowing journey of recovering from infection and a small bowel obstruction (a complication from an earlier emergency c section 6 years prior) which made it impossible to be fed by mouth. I was transferred to the maternity/oncology unit (finally I was in the same BUILDING as my baby) with TPN (total parenteral nutrition) since I was only fed intravenously. I had CT scans and X rays and blood draws every day. My arms were riddled with bruises where multiple needles and tubes resided. I had a nervous breakdown and called my husband, and I was heartbroken and jealous to hear that they were at the ice cream parlor getting treats. My physical pain was excruciating but I had to wean off the narcotics so my digestive organs could repair themselves and my c-section could heal.

Even though I could not eat or drink by mouth, my body was still working to produce milk for my newborn. Three times a day for an hour each time, I painfully pumped minuscule amounts of milk for my baby, and saved it to send to the NICU. When the pump yielded only droplets, I thought daily of giving up pumping but perservered somehow. To avoid needing additional surgery, I needed get out of bed, exercise and walk the halls every day, hoping my pain from my incision would be bearable. I kept vomiting green bile, so an N-G tube was painfully inserted through my nose into my stomach and attached to a machine for five long days so it could drain my stomach of bile. I recall an extremely mortifying incident when I was under the surgical drape (awake) during the insertion of a PICC line (peripherally inserted central catheter) into my jugular in my neck and I panicked and screamed "Please please please" until a nurse went under the drape to hold my face and remind me to breathe through the claustrophobic pain. My heart was enlarged for the first few days so they had to keep checking that too. During a 1:00 am CT scan,  I panicked as the orderly left me in my gurney and I was alone waiting for transport for over 45 minutes in the still quiet that I imagined the morgue must feel like (I didn't know that hospital transport was arranged and scheduled in advance and the wait times can be lengthy late at night.) 

I cried myself to sleep every night quietly so my mom in the cot next to me wouldn't hear.  Days and nights blended into one, interrupted only by vitals checks every 3 hours. I braved the daily 6:00 am rounds when the surgical team would come in and cheerfully assess my progress: "Hang in there, one more day!" Every day I would ask the nurse to help me first via wheelchair then on my own two feet with my IV to another floor to visit the NICU. During the last few days of my stay, I was cleared to slowly begin drinking and eating by mouth, and the slow introduction of food and water was excruciating ... in a moment of realization I imagined this is how POWs or people shipwrecked on an island must feel when they're first given a sip of water after days and weeks of nothing.  It was the most excruciating pain I have ever experienced, even beyond labor pains. I remember the exhilarating joy of slowly sipping a tiny cup of apple juice over 8 hours and keeping it down. I continued to pray and hope.

I confess I peeked at my electronic chart once and was aghast at the details of how I almost died. (They don't tell you that stuff, FYI).

Some moments of joy: I was able to hold my baby for half an hour each time I visited. My best friend from high school worked nearby and she sacrificed her lunch hour to visit me and my baby in the NICU daily for over two weeks. My friends and relatives came to see me as they were able, driving in through the horrible Chicago rush hour traffic to reach the downtown hospital, bringing gifts and baby clothes. One friend from Florida who was in town (with her husband who was in treatment for a brain tumor) made time to visit me and held my hand and let me cry as we walked the halls together. I couldn't eat any of the treats my visitors arrived with, so I shared them with the nurses on my floor.  I was pretty popular for a while! My 5 year old came on most days and was the picture of joy and health - he loved the hospital food tray I would order in advance (but could not partake).  I threw him a pizza party on one of those days and though it was pure torture to be around all that food, his smile was my biggest reward. I bonded with my mom who was my strongest advocate (she was a retired RN) and she stayed by my side the whole time. My husband held up the fort at home with the help of his parents, and he made sure our 5 year old didn't miss a day of kindergarten. I made friends with the nurses on my floor and talked about shoes: apparently Dansko was a good brand for people on their feet a lot. 

And the most bittersweet moment of all: my baby was cleared to go home finally BUT I WAS NOT. I was not discharged to leave with him. It felt surreal to have my husband meet us in the lobby (me in a robe hooked up to the IV) and watch him and my mom load our baby in the brand new car seat and head home WITHOUT ME. I was happy and sad and in pain all at the same time. Luckily, I was cleared to go home two days later, thirty pounds lighter, and ready to take on life as a mother of two. My milk came in and I was elated to be able to begin breastfeeding the moment I came home. I wept with joy when my baby latched and I felt like I was home. I had despaired that my milk had disappeared because of how long my baby and I were apart, but the milk came. Two years later, I am happy to report I am still nursing.

February 20 to March 10, 2016. I learned a lot about my capacity for pain and healing. I fought for my life for 19 days. That's 456 hours/27,360 minutes spent away from my family. I felt like my life had a restart button, and I was inspired to never settle for anything unless I truly loved it. To those who ask, "When will you have another baby?", the answer is "We are two and done, our home and hearts are full." The risks involved in another pregnancy and delivery are simply too great. 

I consider the day I went home from the hospital, March 10, 2016 as "my other birthday," the day my life began again. I was gifted back the ability to do things I will never take for granted ever again: to hold and nurse my baby, to eat normal food, to sleep in my own bed, and to walk, even run, and perform daily activities without pain.  I am thankful to the dozens of doctors and nurses who saved my life, and to my family and friends (online and in person) who kept my spirits up through it all. 

Today, if I ever have a particularly difficult or painful day, I can look back on the hardship I survived after my child was born and tell myself, "You can do this. You CAN do this. You have been through worse. You were given a second chance. You lived to fight another day. There's a reason you survived."

At bedtime, as I nurse my youngest to sleep, my now 8-year old asks me to tell him my "hospital story," and how we brought his baby brother home. At each retelling, I am always grateful to end with "And they lived happily ever after."

To moms everywhere, especially to my own, I dedicate my story.

BEFORE

AFTER

Sarah Manongdo-Joya is an optometrist, author, online entrepreneur, and mom to 8-year-old Michael and 2-year old Roman. She lives in Oak Park, IL with her husband and sons. You can visit her at her website, SarahJoya.com

Mommy of Two (Almost)

There are two periods of time that they do not tell you about. There's the before: a glowing happy period, where you have this secret that you're keeping inside, that you can't wait to share. The secret that some people can guess simply by knowing you well. Then, there's the after.

"I'm sorry." The ultrasound technician tapped efficiently at the keyboard while scanning the screen. I watched the gray images evolve on the TV with my husband and son. "Where's the baby, mommy?" my child asked. "I'm sorry," the technician said again, with a practiced but sympathetic look on her face. "It looks like there is a pregnancy sac, but too small at 8 weeks. I can't find a fetal pole or a heart beat. This pregnancy is not viable. The doctor will speak to you next.” My husband looks stunned. My toddler looks sad. My world has tilted on its axis: There's no baby. There never was a baby. I had morning sickness. I took my vitamins. I peed on two sticks. Then, absurdly: I'm not wearing any pants. No pants. Must get pants on. Tomorrow is my son's fifth birthday. My child starts to cry and my husband picks him up to soothe him but he wants mommy.

Somehow we end up in another exam room. Undress from the waist down again please. Feet up. My OB knocks, enters the room, and looks sad. He explains that one in four pregnancies end this way. Most women don't even know they're pregnant, he says. It just looks like a missed period, then a very heavy one. I knew I was pregnant because we were trying. It took me four years to want another child and one year of trying to get this far. So on the first day of my missed period, I peed on two sticks two weeks apart. I took a picture of my 5 year old pretending to read my "I'm Pregnant" book in bed and planned to share my news that way to close friends. And I never really had the chance.

My OB gives me a choice to let nature take its course or have a D&C. The good news is that we can “try again”. My husband leaps at the suggestion: "How soon?" Absurdly again I want to scream, and cry, and say "NO MORE, I AM DONE." Logistics: there is a waiting list of some sort for D&C, because this happens “all the time.” Then the phone calls begin: to his parents, to my widowed mom - heartbreak over and over again with each call. 

To share the bad news with friends, I am too devastated to call. So I use Facebook messages and texts. The messages pour in: women who've had the same experience or worse. I’m supposed to take it one day at a time. I am floored by the number of friends who've gone through this same heartbreak in secret. I cried myself to sleep for days. My husband was grieving too. We were zombies that still had to wake up, go to work, take care of our child, and move as if life was still happening and the world was still spinning.

Two days before my scheduled D&C I started bleeding and cramping while still at work. I hid in the employee bathroom and cried. I put on a brave face as that day my boss was visiting. Surgery went well and I woke up thinking absurdly: I really really want a cheeseburger. My heart ached and I felt empty. 

At bedtime we watch a Youtube video montage of my child and husband ( Video Montage ). Then we say good night. My firstborn is #1 and we had referred to the new addition as #2. "Goodnight number one, goodnight number two!" my five year old said, patting my tummy. His dad explained that number two is in heaven, and we can say goodnight but wave in the air. We all waved in the air and said "Goodnight, number two."


It's been almost a year since my pregnancy loss but we have been blessed anew since then.  A mere five months later I found out I was pregnant again, and we were over the moon. I am due to deliver via scheduled c-section a baby boy (lovingly referred to as number three) on March 14, 2016. My son is ecstatic to assume the role of big brother, and my husband and I are truly grateful.  Where there is love, there is hope. And I am truly blessed to have both. My support system in family and friends has helped me move forward and heal, and in sharing my story I hope to do the same for others. (01/13/2016)

Mommy of Two (Almost)

There are two periods of time that they do not tell you about. There's the before. And there's the after. The before is a glowing happy period, where you have this secret that you're keeping inside, that you can't wait to share. The secret that some people can guess simply by knowing you well. Then, there's the after.

"I'm sorry." The ultrasound technician was tapping away furiously at the keyboard. One hand on the wand and one hand on the computer. She squinted and scanned and scanned and scanned. I watched the gray images evolve on the flat screen TV mounted on the ceiling as if in a trance. My husband and five year old son were doing the same. "Where's the baby, mommy?" he wanted to know. "I'm sorry," the technician said again.  She pulled out the wand and stopped typing, folded her hands in her lap, a practiced but sympathetic look on her face. "It looks like there is a pregnancy sac, but it's smaller than it should be at 8 weeks. I can't find a fetal pole or a heart beat. It looks like this pregnancy is not viable. I'm sorry. The doctor will speak to you next. You can get dressed now." My husband looks stunned with grief. My toddler looks confused and sad. He does not understand the medical terminology but he is clearly attuned to my facial expressions. I try to smile bravely at him but his face starts to crumple in anticipation of my tears. It feels like my world has tilted on its axis and the thoughts go through my head: There's no baby. There never was a baby. But there was! There was. I was hungry and tired and emotional. I had morning sickness. I took my vitamins.I peed on a stick. Two sticks in fact. I started not carrying heavy things.  Then, absurdly: I'm not wearing any pants. No pants. Must get pants on. I guess I don't have to buy a new dress for my cousin's summer wedding. I guess I don't have to refuse alcohol at CE, not that I drink anyway. Tomorrow is my son's fifth birthday. My child starts to cry and my husband picks him up to soothe him but he wants mommy. In bad times he wants mommy. It seemed silly now that we argued whether to bring our child to the appointment or not. But considering what is happening, he is taking it rather well. 

I don't remember getting dressed but somehow we end up in another exam room. Undress from the waist down again please. Feet up. My OB knocks, enters the room, shakes my hand, and looks very sad. He explains that one in four pregnancies end this way. One in four. Most women don't even know they're pregnant, he says. It just looks like a missed period, then a very heavy one. I knew I was pregnant because we were trying. It took me four years to want another child and one year of trying to get this far. So on the first day of my missed period, I peed on two sticks two weeks apart. I even took pictures of the sticks. Silly, I know. I still have those pictures on my phone. I also took a picture of my 5 year old pretending to read my "I'm Pregnant" book in bed and planned to share my news that way to close friends.

My OB counsels me that I have the choice to let it "pass on its own" or have a D&C. Dilation and curettage. Due to my age he suggests the latter but it is still up to me. The good news is that we can try again. My husband leaps at the suggestion: "How soon?" Absurdly again I want to scream, and cry, and say "NO MORE, I AM DONE." I refrain. I breathe in and out and let them discuss. I have to wait for a normal period to occur before trying to conceive. A brief argument ensues over the date and time of the surgery (there is a waiting list of some sort - how many women got this bad news here, today in this office?!) I am in health care, and calling in sick means my boss would have to move some mountains to get me a few days off. I don't remember how we got home. Then the phone calls begin: to his parents, to my mother, to my aunt. Somehow it's harder to explain again to our parents what happened. My husband reached his dad, and their conversation was brief. They hung up before I could talk to him on the phone too, so I called him back. He didn't expect me to call again but he answered and he sounded like he was crying. For me this was hard. Ironically my mom (a nurse) took the news better than I thought. She wanted to know how much pain I was in (just emotional pain for now) and when my procedure would be done. Talking to my aunt in New York was harder: she helped raise me. She cried. I cried. She said she will handle telling everyone else what happened (my pregnancy news was leaked to extensive family in another continent). 

I've told a select few of my closest friends my early pregnancy news so now I have to tell them one by one the bad news. I chicken out and use texts and messages instead of calling. My friend Amanda immediately calls me on the phone and I try not to cry as she consoles me. I have a group of friends reachable by Facebook and after I told them, the messages and texts pour in: women who've had the same experience, and some with multiple miscarriages. They all tell me I will be okay, and to take it one day at a time. I am floored by the number of friends who've gone through this heartbreak. One of my best friends in high school confess she had the same thing and didn't even tell her own mom for fear of being judged or lectured. My boss is sympathetic and offers me additional days off; he has been through this before, it seems, with an OD colleague from a few years back. I cried myself to sleep for several days. My husband was grieving in his own way too. We were basically zombies that still had to wake up, go to work, take care of our child, and move as if life was still happening and the world was still spinning.

My surgery had been scheduled for a Wednesday but I started bleeding and cramping two days prior while still at work. I hid in the employee bathroom and cried. It was really happening. I had to put on a brave face as that day my other boss was visiting for a team meeting/photo and corporate lunch. I lasted til 4:00 pm and had to go home early to monitor my pain/need to go to the ER. Surgery day came and I was on fasting/starvation due to standard protocol. Fourteen hours of no liquids or solids so I was weak by the time my 4:00 pm surgery. My nurses, anesthesiologist, and the surgeon asked what my profession was, since I was very calm about everything and used clinical terms that lay people normally don't. The irony almost made me laugh. My anesthesiologist wanted my opinion on his multifocal contacts. I didn't want to tell him that he was overcorrected in one eye versus the other. Anyway, surgery went well and I woke up thinking absurdly: I really really want a cheeseburger. My heart ached and I wanted to eat my feelings. I felt well enough to walk to dinner with my boys. This part was the after-after.

At night, we have a bedtime ritual. My boys watch a video montage on Youtube set to their favorite Sesame Street song ( Video Montage made by my friends Irene and Todd for my boys' birthdays February 1st and 5th). After a bedtime book or two we say goodnight to each other. My firstborn is #1 and we had referred to the new addition as #2. "Goodnight number one, goodnight number two!" my five year old said, patting my tummy. His dad explained that number two is in heaven, and we can say goodnight but wave in the air. We all waved in the air and said "Goodnight, number two."

It's only been 17 days since my whole world turned upside down. I'm taking it one day at a time. In my heart of hearts I still think of myself as a "mom of two." And for a while I was dreaming happily of a "table for four." Maybe it will happen in time. I'm just grateful for my family and friends who were there for me the whole time, even across different cities, states, and continents. I love you all.

Confessions of a Working Mom

Like most mommies, I wear different hats and take on different roles sometimes simultaneously.  I work as an optometrist for 5 days a week and I'm a mommy to a three year old. My husband and son are bff's at this stage of the game, and I'm enjoying every minute of it. I read parenting magazines and websites for advice and shamelessly Google the other stuff I do not know.   My go to websites are webmd and babycenter.com and of course Mamapedia.com. I unashamedly use technology to help me in my day to day dealings with my three year old toddler. At the ripe old age of two he developed an attachment to my iPhone (and I was not in any way a tech junkie - I held on to my "flip phone" for years before succumbing to the "free" smartphone offer from my cell phone company). He could swipe and open apps with more ease than his grandparents. He watches nursery rhymes on Youtube and plays with the calculator app (he loves to see numbers) and other kiddie apps I've uploaded.  I've read somewhere that it's harmful to expose your child to media at this age but frankly I think he learned how to count to 100 and beyond, forwards and backwards, and even sometimes in Spanish, via the Youtube songs he watches. This also goes for the "phonics songs" he sings featuring the alphabet and words. As his fourth birthday looms in February I look back on the adventures I've had as a new mommy. Here are my confessions (don't judge!)

1. My baby became fascinated with my iPhone so I purchased an iPod touch. He has his favorite nursery rhymes on Youtube and plays on the calculator.
2. He loves to look at pictures and videos of himself on our phones. "That's the baby!"
3. He still asks for "Mommy's phone" and I caught him once talking to Siri: "Text mama!"
4. "Balloon Baby School", "Phone4Kids","Tiny Piano" and "Shapes" take up a lot of memory on my iPhone.
5. My baby also knows how to get his grandparents to let him play with their iPad mini.
6. He turns off the TV while I'm watching Cooking Channel and we argue. "Mama wants to watch TV!" "Off the TV!"
7. He started learning numbers early on via our condo elevator buttons. Also "L is for Lobby and R is for Roof!" He knows how many floors are in our condo, and how many floors are in our parking garage.
8. His bedtime is really late (10:30 pm CST on an average day) because I pick him up from my in laws' house after work (usually past 7:30 pm) and arrive home around 8:30 pm. He takes two hours to play, eat a second dinner, and then calm down for the night. Most kids I know sleep around 8 pm.
9. My "me time" is usually after the baby and the husband are snoring safely in bed, usually past 11 pm. The "me time" is fraught with decisions: shower? dinner? pee? poo? sleep? All at once? It's a daily battle.
10. He went through a phase where he wanted to wear the same shirt two days in a row. I even tried to switch duplicate shirts (a clean one for a dirty one) but he caught on. Epic fail!
11. I'm still comfort-nursing him to sleep most days then transferring him to his toddler bed. When he wakes in the middle of the night I pick him up and put him in the bed between my husband and me.
12. Bath time is love/hate at this stage. If he's in a good mood he will go in the bath enthusiastically. Other days require bribery/coaxing/wrestling and it's not pretty. Sometimes I wipe him down with a washcloth if I'm too tired to wrestle.
13. At an early age he recognizes the following logos as we drive past: Dunkin Donuts, Subway, McDonalds.
14. I used to want to wean him from nursing and now I dread when he will eventually stop asking for "dudu."
15. Potty training has been a challenge. I have to catch him with his "poo face" and hustle him to his potty and/or the toilet to go poo. Bribery is involved: "If you make 40 poos, you get a big giant..." "Balloon!" "Yes!"
16. I let him play with the buttons and lights in my office, especially the buttons that make the exam chair go up and down. Wheee! 
17. I dread him growing up and getting a girlfriend, moving out, learning to drive, etc. He won't need mommy anymore!
18. He knows the way going to: 1) grandma's house 2) the other grandma's house 3) playschool even while riding rear-facing in the car seat. So when he's crying about not wanting to go to school I can't even trick him.
19. He's fallen off our bed a few times. Thank goodness no real harm done! (Fingers crossed)
20. I'm a little overanxious if his temperature is above 98.6 on the Exergen thermometer. 99 degrees? Break out the Tylenol!!
21. A busy day at the office is sometimes easier than a full day of watching my energetic toddler.
22. There could be no "adult" food in my fridge but plenty of: oatmeal, pasta, corn, noodles, and apple sauce.
23. He usually eats his meals while playing with his iPhone/iPod. It keeps him seated longer than just a meal by itself. Restaurants with free Wifi rock!
24. I discovered Triple Cream cured his eczema so I smear it on everything!
25. I yearn for peanut butter. And pad thai. And Reese's peanut butter cups. My home is a peanut free zone due to baby's  peanut allergy.
26. Sometimes I have the feeling that I really don't know what the heck I'm doing.
27. After a long day watching my toddler, bathing him, feeding him, making him nap, and cleaning up after him, he runs to the front door to greet my husband: "I love you daddy! I miss you daddy!"
28. I cuddle him a little longer than necessary after he falls asleep and needs to be transferred to the toddler bed.
29. Waking up to toddler hugs and kisses is the best feeling in the world.
30. His picture is my Facebook profile picture. 
31. It took 3+ years for me to feel physically and emotionally ready to have another. A mixture of excitement, anxiety, and hope. Bring it on!

Mama Peer Pressure and What's Best for You and Baby

When I was pregnant, it seemed like everyone and their mama had an opinion about every topic you can think of on how to care for a baby. I told myself I would listen to fellow moms' advice carefully and learn from their experience. Easier said than done! If I followed the "average" new mom's timeline, I would have already stopped breastfeeding at or around 6-12 months, swaddled my baby until he was 3 months old, fed him solids at six months and table food at 12 months, and already have moved from our 580 square foot condo to a single family home by the time my baby started cruising furniture. I would have purchased a mini-van and signed up my baby for the elite day care in our neighborhood (which costs more per month than our mortgage or my student loan from getting a doctorate degree!) I did none of the above and a

m very hap

py my husband and I stuck with our decisions to ignore the peer pressure and instead do what's best for our baby and our family.

A lot of pressure is put on new moms to follow other moms' advice. To this I say, listen with a grain of salt, but do what is best for YOUR child and YOUR family. When Michael was born in February of 2010, he was around two weeks early. Our condo was not baby-ready and I didn't have time or energy to read beyond the "what to expect in labor" chapter of the three pregnancy books on my bookshelf. The first three months went by in a blur, with sleep deprivation and breastfeeding taking its toll on me along with post-partum depression. Baby Michael refused to sleep flat on his back. He would wake up 10 minutes after I rocked and fed him to sleep, and this cycle would go EVERY TWO HOURS all ni

ght long. In desperation I took to placing him in the inclined Fisher Price Newborn Rock 'N Play Sleeper overnight in

stead of the bas

sinet - something most moms have never even heard of. What a lifesaver! Baby slept three hours straight for the first night, and continued to 4-5 hours per stretch until he outgrew the rocker at seven months. I now give the sleeper as a present to friends who are new moms although it's not normally on their baby registry or even something they've seen before; they usually thank me for giving them a few more hours of sleep a night!

My baby also had difficulty adjusting to the texture of solid foods. He would gag and spit out Cheerios at age 8 months whereas his peers were happily chewing on

them without a problem. Our pediatrician recommended "no more Gerber baby jars" at twelve months but this turned out to be a problem for my little one; he had trouble swallowing chunky food. So my mother-in-law started pureeing organic veggies, fruits, and meat for baby so he can transition to table food more easily. My baby has never been too interested in mealtimes; we had to constantly chase him around with a spoon or feed him while he played. This went against "doctor's suggestions" but we did what we had to do to get him to eat. He now eats better without gagging and I am glad we didn't race to feed him table food when he wasn't ready.

Most of my friends who were moms also urged me to find a house to move into for the baby's sake, e.g. you need more room for the baby to walk around in and for all his stuff. My husband and I debated and searched for a new house but weren't in love with any of the houses that we had seen. So we decided to stay put for a while, rearrange the condo, upgrade to a "big boy crib" to replace the Graco Travel Lite Crib (Baby still sleeps in it comfortably), and made the living room baby-friendly with soft foam puzzle mats we saw at the neighborhood daycare. I did research on the best baby gear for small apartments (everythin

g had to be lightweight, portable, foldable, multi-function and affordable) and only p

urchased what would comfortably fit into our condo. We still use his Graco Infant Car Seat Frame Stroller to this day.

When my 1996 Honda Civic finally gave up and died, we didn't buy a mini van to replace it. The mini van would have been out of our price range and the gas mileage would not have been practical for the 200+ miles/week commute I normally drive. So we did our research and purchased a 2009 Honda Fit hatchback with folding rear seats and awesome miles-per-gallon capability (35 city/40 hwy). It's been one of our best purchases so far since we had our baby.

When to start weaning has always been a touchy topic for moms. I never imagined I would still be breastfeeding at 16 months but my little one shows no signs of wanting to stop. I still pump twice at work even though coworkers and colleagues may show surprise or disapproval; I ignore this because I know what is best for myself and my baby. Although he is eating more solids and transitioning into table foods, we both cherish our bonding time and he is always more calm and happy after a feeding, and

sleeps really well after. I am blessed that my little one has yet to have a serious illness beyond a cold virus or fever from teething; I truly believe that breastfeeding has made him more healthy and less susceptible to getting sick.

If you're a new mommy and are used to other moms pressuring you to do what THEY did for their children, remember that YOU know your baby best. Make decisions based on what is best for you and your family, and if some well-meaning relative, friend, or stranger gives you unsolicited advice, smile, thank them, and go along your merry way. Your baby will thank you for it.

How to Create Your Online Business Website for Free or Very Cheap!

So here it is in a nutshell.... who am I? My name is Dr. Sarah Manongdo-Joya, and I am the webmaster of http://www.budgetweddingcenterpieces.com, http://www.saveafortuneonyourwedding.com, http://www.isavedafortuneonmywedding.com, and http://www.sarahjoya.com . Hmm, see a pattern here? It all started out when I co-authored the book "How to Buy Everything for Your Wedding on eBay ... and Save a Fortune!" during my own wedding planning in 2004.

After saving TONS of money by shopping eBay for my wedding, I kinda got sucked into the online wedding biz - it was so addicting! Now I run four websites, three of which make me money even in my sleep. My book continues to sell on amazon.com and has gotten tons of media coverage. I've appeared on live TV, and been interviewed on magazines and newspapers across the country. I've been asked before by friends and family how I got started with my website, so I will try to summarize it very easily here. And, aside from advertising, most of this stuff is FREE and can be done by anybody! I make great money as a doctor of optometry, but I love making money online too!

Your Product:

1. Know what you are good at or what you are passionate about. For example, do you like books? Sell books! Do you like weddings? Sell wedding stuff! Do you like to write? Write and sell your own e-books! I wrote my first e-book after visiting http://www.silentsalesmachine.com. That first e-book became my first published book by publisher McGraw-Hill!




2. Sell something you believe in, if it's something you make yourself, or something you use yourself. It can be an actual product (flowers, books, CD's), or a service (like petsitting, web design, wedding videography or photography, embroidery, etc).
   




3. If you are selling a product, find a good wholesaler who is willing to work with you: sending you samples of product, or even drop-shipping the product. Drop shipping means you take the order from the customer, take your cut, and place your order with the supplier, who ships the product IN YOUR NAME.
   




4. If you are purchasing and storing your product at home, dedicate a room or corner for your home business (for tax purposes). More on this later.




5. Customer testimonials drive business. Ask customers nicely for testimonials (text or photos or both) to help advertise your product.

How to Create Your Own Store Website (for almost free) :

1. Select a domain name that is catchy, not too long, and relevant to your business. For example, http://www.budgetweddingcenterpieces.com




2. Check availability for your website name on a website like http://www.godaddy.com/ or http://www.yahoo.com/. Minimal annual fees run around $10/year. Don't pay more than that! You will also get one free professional sounding email address, like sales@budgetweddingcenterpieces.com instead of yourname@hotmail.com .




3. You can set up this free email account to carbon copy to your primary email address so you won't miss out on any email inquries from potential customers.




4. You can also set up an automatic reply e.g. "Thank you for your email inquiry. We will respond to your message shortly. Please visit our website for more information." This feature is also helpful when you are away on vacation since you can set a vacation reply.




5. No experience in making a website? Sign up for a free hosting service like Google Sites http://sites.google.com/ where you can use pre-made templates. If you can type, you can make a website! You can also upload images on Google Sites. I use Google Sites because my website is more visible on the Google search engine, and there are no bothersome ads on your final page.
   




6. Set up your GoDaddy.com domain name so it will display your Google Sites webpage. This is called "domain masking" and "domain forwarding." So if someone types http://www.budgetweddingcenterpieces.com/ on their browser, my webpage pops up, and the header still says budgetweddingcenterpieces.com instead of sarah.manongdo.googlepages.com/budgetweddingcenterpieces.com (quite a mouthful!)




7. Sign up for a free PayPal account at http://www.paypal.com . PayPal offers tools such as payment buttons and shopping cart buttons, allowing you to accept secure online payments from anybody with an email address.




8. Sign up for a free StatCounter account at http://www.statcounter.com . There is a free tutorial on how to generate html code to provide you with a counter to place on your website. This counter will enable you to track WHERE your customers come from, how LONG they visited your website, and how OFTEN they return.




9. Sign up for a free account at http://www.123contactform.com . You can generate html to make a professional looking "Contact Us" form that you can design very easily.
   

Advertising your Website for Free or Very Cheap:

1. Sign up for a free account at http://www.vistaprint.com/, where you can easily get 250 business cards, 100 postcards, etc for FREE. Pay minimal shipping and handling. Give these away to friends, family, and local businesses.
   




2. Make a free Facebook page on http://www.facebook.com/ solely for your business. Here is mine as an example: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Chicago/BudgetWeddingCenterpiecescom/108723057337




3. Consider signing up for Google AdWords campaign at http://adwords.google.com/ - only if you can afford around $50 a month for advertising.




4. Place your product or service on http://www.ebay.com/. You can advertise your website indirectly by emailing customers who purchase, or customers who contact you with questions. You can even get repeat customers this way! Plus when you get positive feedback, it boosts the image of you as a business entity.




5. Make a short video and post it for free on http://www.youtube.com/ . Tag your video with relevant buzz words for your business. Embed your youtube video onto your main website.
   

Have Fun and Get at It! Email me at sarah@sarahjoya.com for questions!