Hi, Noah!

Hi, Noah!

I was expecting but everything that happened that day was unexpected. I woke up that morning dazed from lack of sleep, frustrated at the endless tossing and turning I did the previous night. Couple that with the horrendous traffic to our weekly hospital checkup and I had the kind of morning that I wanted to forget. 

Amidst the white walls of my doctor's clinic, we discussed the long wait our baby was making us go through. I was 39 weeks and 4 days and there were still no signs of labor. No contractions, no water breaking, no pain. Obsessed with getting things done on time, I was secretly worried. I had three days left to give my baby a chance to come into the world naturally. Otherwise, I would go under the knife. It seemed like it could happen in three days. It seemed like it couldn't, too. 

Before the ordered internal exam, my husband and I had lunch. Over our favorite spaghetti, fried chicken, and chocolate chip pancakes, I talked about my worries, he talked about his dreams, we talked about our parenthood. In spite of the fears, there was a lot of laughter over anything and everything. I palpably felt the chemistry that brought us together years ago. He reminded me that even if things don't go our way, we would still have Noah...

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An Ode To Us

An Ode To Us

We married with a plan; we continued with none. It was easy to tell ourselves that the next step was to have a baby, to grow a family, to show that indeed we were moving along a perfectly calculated timeline. But that didn't happen, of course. Things don't always go our way, of course. 

And looking back at the almost two years we had to just you and me, I'm ever so grateful that life brought us somewhere else. 

If I squint, I can find ourselves on our wedding day and remember exactly who we were in the folds and creases of our bodies and our souls: such wide-eyed, ecstatic newlyweds with a perfect image of each other, hoping and expecting nothing but the best. It was adorable; we were immaculate. And then life happened and hit us like a truck...

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London: The Greatest Of All

London: The Greatest Of All

As a naive teenager, I always thought New York City was the pinnacle of every traveler's wish list. Street lights, big dreams, all looking pretty, right? I spent most of my college life daydreaming about studying in the Empire State but when that opportunity finally came along, something quite funny happened. I was pulled to another direction... literally to the other side of the Atlantic. London, London, London... perhaps it was time to try something completely new. I gave it a shot and left my NYC dreams in the wake of my footsteps (and in the corridors of my college campus).  

And when I experienced London for half a year, in all its majestic, quaint, historic, organic, and wonderful glory, I knew that my wanderlust heart had finally found its home. 

One of the best things about London is that - this is going to sound so introverted - one can enjoy it in solitude. Virginia Woolf said, 'To walk alone in London is the greatest rest.' With all the cultural, artistic, historic, and culinary offerings this city boasts of, Woolf's statement still holds a strong footing...

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The Illusion of Superwoman

The Illusion of Superwoman

What now?, I ask myself. I haven't even given birth yet and there's already that nagging voice in my head demanding an answer. What else are you going to do besides being a wife and mother?

There are so many articles floating around the ether that always seem to end up on my screen. Do you know the ones I'm talking about? The ones applauding and praising the superwomen, the supermoms, the superwives? I stand in awe of them, thinking how on earth they can do it all while I struggle to carve out time for myself (and I don't even have kids yet. Ha). Are they unicorns? Mystical beings? Am I just too ordinary? Too lazy? I click X on the tab because these articles just give more energy to that nagging voice...

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Aloha, Baby D!

Aloha, Baby D!

Oh how fun the second trimester was! When I finally got over the blues and waves of the first trimester, I felt human again. But there was still a lot of waiting to do - after all, I was only halfway through the pregnancy - so I needed to find something to fill my days with. 

The Baby Shower! I defied the rule that said it had to be thrown by family and friends. In true maternal (and perfectionist?) form, I decided to do it myself. As the invite said, I wanted it to be, 'a celebration of thanksgiving and joy'. We've waited for this baby for a while so this mama (and papa) had every reason to throw a party, right?

First, the theme. I didn't want the party to literally say BABY! so I searched for the perfect theme to tie everything together. Considering that our baby would be born during summer (and we were all beginning to feel the heatwave), I just knew that it had to be TROPICAL. So I scoured the city - mostly from my laptop - for suppliers of garden chairs, monstera leaves, orchids, seashells, starfishes, and tropical flowers...

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