of ammas and wives. it’s her journey too.

My entire heart begins to beat faster and warms up to a temperature that is pretty unbearable – but in the best way. When you choose someone to parent with – you hope that they will be just as enthusiastic about parenting and your children as you are. And, sometimes that doesn’t necessarily happen. Roles…

chrysalis of mamahood.

My words don’t seem to fully make sense sometimes and I think that it’s this transition that mamahood creates. Like, I’m stuck in this multidimensional chrysalis that I will be gnawing at for years and years to come. The transition to mamahood isn’t overnight. It’s this ever growing, every changing process that involves high moments…

this is 11 months.

t his is 11 months. this is what three month early premature babies could look like. thriving, adventurous, cunning and clever. independent af. this has been 11 months of producing milk and nine months of exclusively nursing twins with no end in sight. this is 11 months co-sleeping, baby wearing, being security attached but also…

breathing life into the storyteller.

no editing. bathroom lighting. just me. I’m finding myself again that life? just a series of ‘finding oneself’ the result of change and circumstances. constantly changing. I was a climber, I say to myself. I was a painter. I was a creator. I was. I was. I am. I’m trying to change my language. I’m…

real life.

real life. dirty clothes in the corner. things thrown about. amma carrying one babe while mama nurses the other. house a wreck. worries and anxiety in the air. we are recouping from traveling and getting ready for mama’s dental surgery traveling back to tx to see our fam winter breaks we are listening to books…

putting ‘obsession’ in postpartum ocd.

  well, i am down to using only instagram as my social media outlet.  but there doesn’t mean there isn’t struggle involved with maintaining myself.  it’s been a month since i broke up with facebook. i quit it. pressed that ‘deactivation’ button (but still haven’t had the strength to ‘delete’ ten years of data) and…

welcome back.

it’s been a while. i hope that we can get to know each other again. 

life was born out of my belly.

My muscles in my abdomen are extremely sore now. My wife said they held me open and pushed and pulled to get the babies out of the six inch cut right above my pubic bone. I’ve held the belief that csections are the absolute latest resort and people shouldn’t give into mindless intervention, but after…

when your postpartum feels co-oped.

Postpartum is supposed to be a very special time. It’s a time of healing and taking care of the new mother and a time to adjust to the new normal. This has been the absolute worst time in my life. The days following my mother’s death was difficult – planning her funeral at 20, writing…

it’s as if they just fell out of me.

there will be a moment when I sit down and talk about the events leading up to their birth and their birth. but today I’m acknowledging that they’re here. they came quickly Sunday morning. thao vishnu. raja anu. 27 weeks. 5 days. They’re perfect. And strong. And as each day passes my heart stretches to…