The Quiet Struggle of Raising a Child with Special Needs

Here’s my story.

Every Child is Special

photo-1470116109808-c71d8bd6f4a7I always knew my child was special. I have videos of him reading Brown Bear at the age of 6 months. OK, he wasn’t really reading but he showed great interest in the book and that made this momma bear really proud. I would record and take pictures of every single milestone no matter how small it was. Yes, I was that mother.

He was always very distant from me. He never liked to cuddle and he wouldn’t initiate a cuddle either. He wouldn’t sleep in my arms and in fact, people would always tell me how lucky I was when he was a baby. How I could just lay him anywhere and he would fall asleep. Since he didn’t like to be held I felt relieved because the time to go back to work had come. I left him in the care of someone else while I was at work and they described him as the perfect baby. He would sleep, eat, play and never cried or asked to be held.

Then I noticed sensory troubles. He wouldn’t look up when he’d be outside and it seemed as if the brightness of the day would blind him. Crowded or noisy places would deafen him. Mealtimes became harder and harder as he would sometimes refuse to eat certain food because of their shape, color, or texture, sometimes inflicting a gag reflex just by looking or smelling it. I just thought I had a picky eater. He seldom made eye contact and wouldn’t respond to his name.

Playdates slowly disappeared because I noticed he didn’t share an interest in other children. He would isolate himself and it was almost as if he couldn’t communicate with them.When he speaks he has a high pitch and each phrase seems like a question. He repeats phrases over and over again and will say something completely irrelevant to whatever was initially said, making friendships difficult.

Terrible Two’s


He was 2 years old and still could not speak in sentences or even three-word phrases. I could tell he wanted to say something but when he couldn’t verbally express it, he would scream. If it he didn’t scream, he would stomp. If he didn’t stomp, he would bang his head. It was heartbreaking to not be able to understand him and see the frustration hidden behind the meltdowns. I tried every approach, to guess, to distract, or to join him in his fight. I can’t hold him because that only makes it worst so I wait, making sure he doesn’t hurt himself. It is easier to control the environment when at home, but in public it’s a whole different story.

We have slowly reduced our public outings because we notice it can be overwhelming on him. We are that family that I’m sure you all have judged. We are the family where the “bratty child” is screaming and kicking and you think it’s because of a toy, or because he didn’t get his way. You misinterpret arms flying and us trying to prevent him from banging his head to physical violence. You are thinking those parents obviously suck at raising their disobedient child. You stare and sometimes blurt the most unnecessary and disappointing words that make it more difficult. In those moments I wish I had super powers to immediately press the disengage button, make us invisible, create a soundproof shield around us but no, we are there “ruining” your day, because of our “lack of parenting.”

I have slowly learned to stop caring about the people around us. I don’t apologize for something that is out my control. We cannot live inside our home forever for other’s consideration. If we leave a public place, it’s because the surrounding is obviously affecting our child. Sometimes we have no idea what triggers it, so while you think it’s because we didn’t buy him a toy, it can be because he heard, saw something that triggered something inside of him that made him uncomfortable and screaming is the only way to overpower that.

The Waiting Game


We succumbed to the “wait it out” game, and we are still waiting. I expressed my concerns to our pediatrician and was told to wait and see how it goes, that it’s just a phase, that he’ll grow out of it, let’s do a vision test or a hearing test, here’s a number, call that number that will then give you another number and then after we hear your whole story, we’ll give you yet another number. This is pretty much how it’s been for the last 2 years. It was not until last January that I got the approval for an evaluation to be done at Stanford to determine if he falls under spectrum disorder. Well, our appointment isn’t until November. We have been waiting and waiting. In the meantime, he goes to two speech therapists and now to school where they are aware of his special needs, even though he doesn’t have an actual diagnosis.

I’m aware that nothing will magically happen after we get an official diagnosis. It’s not going to “cure” anything, but at least we’ll have a gateway to many resources to make his life less complicated.

It’s taken a toll on all of us. All the effort, physically and emotionally to care for our special child while also tending to our youngest is draining. I have felt anger, sadness, anxiety, isolation and then feel terribly wrong for having these feelings, so then comes the guilt.



I have very few friends that have actually seen both sides of the coin. They are my support group, but there are times when I just don’t want to talk to anybody in fear that one little thing will make me burst into tears.

My family… my family is full of drama. I have been the mediator for so long and I’m dealing with my own troubles that listening to theirs only adds to the weight I’m carrying. I grew up with a sister who has Cerebral Palsy and I know my mother knows what I’m going through, but I still keep quiet. When I visit them, I become my mother’s break and I’m left with my sister of special needs, a teenager, my child of special needs and my one-year-old. Am I to blame for not wanting to make the painstaking 8-hour drive to stay home and add on to my responsibility?

I try to be up to date on social media, but I just don’t have the time. I’d rather crochet as it has served to be a form of meditation.

My marriage is in danger. Yes, this can affect even the happiest of couples. I don’t love my husband any less than when I married him, but raising a child with special needs has tested many aspects of our relationship. Our son doesn’t like for us to have a conversation that doesn’t include him. He will say “Mommy, don’t talk to daddy” then takes him away and I miss the opportunity of any dialogue that might save me from dwindling. I am home for most of the day with both of my sons, while my husband goes to work. When he gets home I leave for work for a couple of hours, but I don’t necessarily catch a breath. I leave one child with special needs to go and be with another one. I am a tutor and work at a learning center for people with learning differences. I’ve tried to work from home but the moment I open my computer or talk on the phone it’s time I’m not dedicating to him and he will let me know, not always quietly.

Or there’s the feeling when I feel so much love that it hurts to not be able to hug him, or kiss him. It completely destroys me to not feel his love for me in this way.

The guilt of catching a breath


My son requires around the clock attention. He doesn’t play well by himself, he doesn’t sit in front of a television screen. When we absolutely need to do something and want to avoid a meltdown, we give him the iPad, then automatically feel guilty about it. Every time I do something outside of the Handy Dandy Perfect Parent Handbook, I feel guilty.

So while you might say, “but he looks so normal.” Well, that type of thing was what made me think, am I overanalyzing everything? Is it all in my head? If all kids are like this, why am I the only one complaining how difficult it is? Sometimes he’s fine, so all those other times is it because I have less patience? or the worst of them all, that feeling that I’m a terrible unfit mother and that that title shouldn’t have been given to me, because I surely messed up somewhere.

So there it is, my not-so-quiet struggle anymore.





A través de mis ojos

Es algo difícil, algo que me expone y que abre las puertas de mi vida y de mi corazón.

Podría callarlo, podría imaginar y hacer creer que nada ocurre. Podría tragarme las lágrimas después de un día largo. Pero lo mejor es hablar de ello. Hablar de porque mi paciencia trasciende cualquier obstáculo. De porque el amor de madre viene con retos y bendiciones.

Dios me ha dado el desafío de tener un hijo con síntomas de autismo. No me gusta ponerle una etiqueta hasta no evaluar bien la situación, pero tengo que hablar de ello. Tengo que hablar de lo difícil que han sido estos últimos años.

Duele mi corazón pero no por las razones que piensan. Me duele porque yo soy una de las pocas personas que al verlo, lo entiendo. Porque veo su inteligencia y su determinación, mientras otros ven un niño malcriado. Porque yo realmente lo veo como es. Que puedo decir yo… es mi hijo. Lo amo con toda mi alma. Por eso confíen en mi cuando les digo quien es él realmente.

La semana pasada al sentarme con el director de donde trabajo, no pude contener las lágrimas. Sus palabras de motivación me han ayudado tanto. Dios me eligió a mi, yo que me dedico a esto y tengo tanto apoyo profesional de mis colegas. Pero no deja de ser difícil. Sobre todo soy un ser humano.


No pido su lástima pero si les pido y les recomiendo algo por favor,

  • Les pido que no cuestionen, juzguen, o critiquen mi manera de “disciplinar” a mi hijo. No… esto no es algo que se le quita con nalgadas.
  • No es porque está chiqueado o mimado.
  • No, no es sangrón, solo porque no te ve a los ojos cuando le hablas.
  • No ayuda nada que me digan que parece un niño normal, o que se le quitará.
  • No ayuda que me digan que sus hijos tienen lo mismo y después oír sus “soluciones”
  • No, no es mi culpa por haberlo vacunado.
  • Sí, es diferente a su hermanito, porque todos somos diferentes. No ayuda a nadie que lo comparen.
  • No podemos evitar escenas en lugares públicos, así como no podemos permanecer todo una vida dentro de casa solo para no incomodar a los demás. Créeme que es más difícil para él.
  • Sí, yo sé que repite mucho las cosas y que a veces no tiene sentido lo que dice, para ti no, pero para él está perfectamente claro.
  • No, hablándole más fuerte no hará que se calme.
  • Sí, habrá momentos que parece que se está haciendo daño a él mismo pero es más fuerte el dolor que no puede contener.
  • Él entiende más de lo que te imaginas y entiende cuando están hablando de él.
  • Sí, tiene dificultad en cuestión de procesamiento sensorial así que habrá momentos en los cuales tenemos que irnos sin dar aviso.
  • Discúlpenme si regresar sus mensajes y llamadas no es mi prioridad

Habrá más estudios para determinar que recursos nos pueden ofrecer. Mientras tanto respiramos, reímos, gozamos, amamos, lloramos, nos abrazamos y seguimos adelante.

Gracias a todos de antemano por su comprensión y su apoyo.


“I thought it was peanut butter, silly me.”

Oh time where have you gone. So here I am. Alive. I have been putting off writing because I needed to make sure I wasn’t going crazy first. Nope, I’m perfectly sane. It’s also not a dream. I have my toddler to my right, sleeping peacefully, and my youngest in his crib probably dreaming about that favorite left boob.

How do I do it? I have no idea. Having two kids under 3 is hard. I am not going to lie about it. It is tiresome, but no matter how difficult the day is, seeing my kids at the end of the night sleeping, immediately erases it all. I wake up happy, with confidence and energy ready to take on the day. I probably do mouth the words “bring it on” once in a while, picturing a cheer squad with a monotonous routine followed by me, performing an astonishing double back flip, split ending, mouth opening stunt. Yep, I am that awesome at using my imagination.

Last week, how can I forget last week. Interesting might describe it. No, not interesting, it was shitty. Literally!

I was fixing breakfast. I had the day planned out. I was babysitting a little girl, we were going to have a great time. As I was shredding cheese to go on my amazing omelette, I hear the little girl say, “Adriana, Jayden is playing with peanut butter.”

I mouthed something like “that’s nice sweetie.” An immediate realization hit. How could he be playing with peanut butter? Where could he have gotten peanut butter?

Oh my! Oh my! I turn to see my 2 year old with shit all over his hands. The horrified look on my face did not stop him to do the unthinkable. Yes, my son went ahead and put it to his mouth. I immediately picked him up, undressed him and got the bath running and hoped the shower would erase the image of my son eating poop.

After I gave him a bath I sat down, took a deep breath. I didn’t know whether to cry, laugh or puke. The little girl walks in and says, “Oh boy, and I thought it was peanut butter, silly me!”

I looked at her and I couldn’t help it, I began cracking up. They both immediately joined me and we laughed and laughed at the face of shit.

After we finished laughing, she looks at me and says, “I have a feeling it’s going to be a great day!” and my son follows with a great big cheer.

How can you not be enthusiastic about life when you have kids and shit. 🙂


We cleaned up quiet nicely and took a stroll down to the park for a beautiful winter (disguised as summer) day in lucky California.


Baby Julian: Week 1

Yesterday marked Baby Julian’s first week.

It was a quick one.

How am I physically?

Not so well. My pelvic pain was suppose to end the moment I gave birth, well it didn’t. I feel as though my legs are being separated and someone is at each end pulling me apart. I will continue going to the chiropractor but I wanted to wait at least 2 weeks. Now, I can’t wait to go.

Baby’s health

Baby Julian is perfectly healthy. Before we were discharged from the hospital the pediatrician noticed he was a bit more yellow than normal for jaundice so he suggested we take our son to our primary pediatrician so she could check up on him. On Tuesday we went, and he weighed 7 lbs. 3 oz (9 oz less than at birth). We had to go to the hospital so they could draw blood and make a better assessment regarding his jaundice. Results came back a few hours after that and it all came out normal. All he had to do is relax under the sun 🙂 We were back at the doctor’s on Friday for a procedure and they did a weigh in. He weighed 7 lbs. 13oz. (10 oz since Tuesday). I am not surprised because boy does this baby eat. Hopefully we don’t have togo back to the Dr.’s until his 2 week check up next week.



Breastfeeding takes time and a lot of patience.

At the hospital they were excellent at helping me, because although I breastfed my first son, it is amazing how quickly I forgot the starting process. Like I mentioned in my labor and delivery story, I was able to breastfeed my baby right away, as soon as he was born. I continued to breastfeed during my stay at the hospital, but I forgot that your nipples need to get used to baby, and improper latching can leave nasty cracked nipples. Breastfeeding with cracked nipples is no fun. I even got a bit scared one night. I painfully nursed my son with the breast that had the worst cracked nipple. When I went to go pick him up for his next feeding, he had spit up blood. He sucked the blood out and it mixed with the milk. It only happened once and it wasn’t bright red blood, more like brownish, but it was scary.

I am happy, though that I got a good eater. He eats all the time and what do you get when a baby eats a lot? a lot of dirty diapers. Right now I’m doing disposable until his umbilical cord stump falls off and he gains a bit more weight to fit in the diapers.

We received some newborn and size 1 diapers as baby gifts, so I’ll be using up all of those. After he uses those, we will be switching to cloth diapers, thank goodness, because he sure uses up a lot of diapers. I have a starting kit of 24 cloth diapers so assuming he uses up 12 diapers per day, we are set to do laundry every other day. I’ll post an update on how it all goes.



This second time around I knew that I could either get moderate sleep, or I would be waking up every 2 hours. My first son slept a lot and I had to wake him up after 4 hours just to nurse him. This time I didn’t think I would get that lucky. Just like any newborn, he wakes up every 2-3 hours to nurse. I rest every chance I get. Luckily my husband has been taking our toddler to the park and making him tired so I take a nap while he does that. I don’t know how it’ll be next week when he goes back to work, but hopefully It goes well.

Housework and chores


My house is a mess. It is very difficult to see it in this state but my doctor said I shouldn’t do any household work and that I should just rest. I didn’t listen to her last time and I was left with an uneven hip and an open pelvis. This time I am not going to worry about it. My husband took over and he is the one that does the dishes, laundry and everything else. I took care of the cooking long time ago.

     Prepared Frozen Foods


Before giving birth, I dedicated a whole weekend to cook and cook and cook. I prepared around 15 meals to store in my friends giant freezer.  Meals are enough for two days, so about a month. I am so glad I did this because so far it has absolutely saved us. We don’t have to worry about going to the grocery store to buy stuff for dinner, good thing because the dear husband is not so good at shopping. Even with a detailed list, he will bring the wrong items. I also don’t have to worry about answering the good old question “What are we having for dinner?” It’s nice to just set the crockpot in the morning and not having to worry about it. Breakfast and lunch are a bit easier to prepare so I don’t worry about that.

In another post I’ll put up all the recipes and my review on each meal.

How is big brother adapting?

My dear son is adapting rather well considering his whole world changed overnight. He is very clingy to daddy so it helps out a bit, but I don’t know how he’ll be once my husband goes back to work. He screams a lot and I noticed a change in his behavior. He demands more and if he doesn’t get what he wants he bangs his head on the carpet or on the couch. Toward his baby brother, however, he is very kind in his own way. He’s not as gentle as us adults, but he looks at him with a lot of love. He asks to hold him and when he’s asleep in his bassinet he just peeks at it and looks at him and walks away. When he cries he runs to go get mommy. He also makes a fish mouth when he sees me nursing him. The other day he asked to nurse, something that surprised me since he hasn’t nursed since he was 5 mos. I offered him a breast and he barely touched it with his lips and went back to playing with a smile in his face. I think he just didn’t want to feel left out. Tandem breastfeeding was something I was open to and if my oldest wanted I was willing to do it.

It is becoming easier as days pass and I am an expert at knowing I’m not an expert at this mother thing. One just has to play it by day and make the best decisions according to each situation. I am very happy things are coming together for us and we are developing somewhat of a schedule. I love my family.

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My boys taking over our bed

Labor and Delivery: a special birthday

Our baby boy is finally here!

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Julian Zander Hernandez

Born 11/2/13 at 3:00 a.m.

7lbs. 12 oz.

20.25 in.

The labor journey…

began on Friday Nov. 1st. I woke up and as I was walking around the house I felt a trickle. My water had broken, or so I thought. This pregnancy I came out positive for GBS. I had to go directly to the hospital the moment I suspected my water had broken, so I didn’t put the baby at risk and they could put me on antibiotics. At around 10 am my husband took me to the hospital with absolutely no pain, just the suspicion of my water breaking.

Rewind to Wednesday… I had an appointment with my midwife and there she did a sweeping of the membranes, where she “swept” a finger around my cervix to separate the membranes of the amniotic sac. This releases a hormone and there is a possibility of going into labor. The exam was pretty much like any internal examination, when it came to pain. I went home with some cramping but that was it. During the next days I kept discharging my mucus plug.

Thursday… I took my son trick or treating downtown and did a lot of walking! That night my friends, who had come to spend some days with me in case I went into labor, my son and I had a little dance party. We danced and I even attempted to twerk all in efforts to induce labor.

Back to Friday… My midwife arrived and she did a strip test, inconclusive. She did a vaginal check and she saw water alright. Results, negative for amniotic fluid. She wanted to be 99.9% sure before she sent me back home. Now, during all of this I wasn’t feeling any strong contractions, and the ones I was feeling were about 6 minutes apart. She ran a third test and sent it to the lab and we had to wait. The tests came back negative and we were sent back home. It ended up being very watery mucus plug. It fooled me and it also fooled my midwife.

My friend who was watching my son stayed and we even had dinner and chatted. I had contractions but they weren’t consistent. Then, around 10pm BAM! I felt a really strong contraction. I thought it was still Braxton Hicks so like all the other ones, I tested it out by hopping in the shower. I wasn’t even in the shower when BAM! Another one. Three minutes had passed and BAM! 3 minutes later BAM! it went on pretty much like that for a while and I new I was in labor. We immediately rushed to the hospital.

Checking in

We arrived at the hospital around 11:20pm and they put the monitors and contractions were getting stronger and stronger. They were now about 2 1/2 minutes apart. My midwife came in and checked me. I was 6cm dilated and 90% effaced. It was all happening so fast, but I did want to have this baby and it was sure beating my first labor of 22 hours!

I was very relaxed and would even joke around between contractions, to why the nurses were very surprised when I asked for the epidural. I wanted it so badly even before I went into labor. I just wanted to be numbed from my waist down. I had endured all that pelvic and hip pain during pregnancy that it hurt more to move around and the contractions were not overpowering it. I was feeling both. I am not trying to prove anything and I don’t need to play strong. I have endured an 18hour labor without pain medication. This second time around, I wanted the epidural and I got it.


Yay for the epidural!

I had my IV, antibiotics, epidural and I was set to wait, maybe even sleep a little. Well, there was no time for that. I got checked around 1:30 a.m. and I was 8cm dilated. I felt a lot of pressure and the epidural was wearing off quickly. I didn’t ask for another dose and was fine with having feeling. I was checked and I was 10cm and felt even more pressure. At around 2:45 a.m. They broke my water, which turned out to be like one of those water shows. TMI but it was really cool. There could have been a possibility of baby being born in the bag and it is said to be very very lucky! But we wanted to have that baby now. With only a couple of pushes baby was born at exactly 3 a.m.

Within minutes I breast fed my baby for the first time and I was one happy mother! I got to hold my baby for more than an hour skin to skin, breastfeeding and feeling him while my husband and I flourished our miracle. I had other feelings that were dwelling inside of me too, realizing the day this miracle took place.

Special Birthday

My son was born on November 2nd, the same day as my estranged father. Knowing that my son was born on the same day as the father that pushed me out of his life less than a year ago for the 2nd time, filled me with many emotions. He wasn’t there for my first pregnancy and wasn’t there for this one either. My oldest son has his nose and a lot of his physical characteristics and now my youngest shares his birthday. I don’t know if this is karma, a life lesson, nor do I know to whom the universe talks.

For many years, even before my parents’ divorce, I sought a relationship with my father but his harmful words and both of our prides would make it nearly impossible. Sure, we had some great moments, but I am also the oldest, therefore I remember more than my siblings. I remember his drinking, his insults and the way he treated my mom, the physical violence and his double personality.

With others my father was an awesome person, I will never say otherwise. He was a funny man, loved to be in social events and made everyone laugh. People would always say how lucky we were to have such a fun dad. At home, we didn’t get the funny man everyone saw. We got a man who would throw it in our face each meal he bought, the roof he gave us, the gas he wasted driving us around and how we got in the way of his financial success and freedom.

Last time I spoke to my father, he made it very clear to me he wants me out of his life. I am dead to him, but the universe works in mysterious ways and on this Day of the Dead I gave my father a grandson, a precious life.  He might never meet him or he might come around. I gave him a special birthday gift, he won’t care to open. I found out he knew of the birth of my son and that there was no emotion. I learned to stop looking for something that is just not there. Every time I try to make peace with him, I end up more disappointed and the emotional fight leaves me devastated. I learned that I owe it to myself to live an emotionally safe life and that if I know something hurts me, I need to stop looking for it. It doesn’t matter who he is, I don’t deserve it. I have a wonderful husband and now two wonderful sons. I have amazing friends that have become my family. I am loved.


My two sons

So why do I still feel? I feel because I only know one father. I feel because all I wanted was to be a daddy’s girl. I feel because his words hurt me. I feel because I wanted to make him proud. Maybe, just maybe he would stop hating me so much. I feel because I cannot imagine treating my children that way. I feel because I am a good human being.

My son Julian has a special birthday. I will not say I hope things change because I’ve been down that road too many times, but it is a day that will continue to be alive in my heart. It will be a day to celebrate so much life.

In the meantime this family will rest, love, and soak in all the wonderful things the universe has given us.


My beautiful family

31 Week Update

It’s been a month since my last post! I have been busy with several projects, including my side invitation business and a small living room redecorating project.

I went to the Dr. last week and they measured me and everything seems to be growing just fine. Jayden went with me and he loves to listen to the baby’s heartbeat.

I lost 2 lbs since my last visit. I have been eating but very small meals close together. I mostly snack because I get full so easily. It must be because the baby is squishing my stomach (and bladder). Yes, I go to the bathroom every 15 minutes, especially since I’m drinking so much water because It’s been nice and warm.

There is something that is bothering me this time around and it makes my days and nights longer and painful. I have been dealing with severe hip and lower back pain for the last two months. Apparently my hips have loosened and this has caused them to fall out of their place. I like to picture it as a dangling drumstick off of a whole chicken.

Although my belly is not that big, I am walking like a penguin or a duck. It has been very difficult staying home with Jayden. I can’t lift him at all. This has limit our outings. I can’t really go anywhere because I have to lift him up to put him in the carseat, or shopping cart. He has had so much energy and has stopped napping during the day because we no longer go to the park. By night time I am completely exhausted and in pain.

They’re short-handed at the restaurant so DH has been staying late. When he is home, he has to do laundry and give Jayden a bath. He has been a great helper.

When it’s time to go to bed I don’t go to sleep right away because I can’t find a sleeping position that is not painful. The ideal way to sleep would be on my back or my tummy, but I obviously can’t do that. When I lay on my back, I get light-headed and the baby starts kicking a lot. Sleeping on my side is very painful because of the pressure on the hips. I do have a Leacho Snoogle Total Body Pillow


but there are a few things wrong with it. One, after a month of use, it has gone flat. I have to put pillows under it to lift it. Two, it does not alleviate the hip pain as my legs are not parallel. As you can see in the picture the ankles come down and at night they cross of touch. It doesn’t matter if I put a pillow between my legs and knees, if I don’t prop the ankles I will wake up with pain. So you can imagine the complete barrier I create before I can go to sleep. It because the Great Wall of China by the time I’m through and wake up with sometimes no pillows because the DH gets too hot and moves them. Third, I get nightmares when I sleep with this pillow. It might sound silly to you but it’s true. I wake up after being chased, in car accidents, fire, you name it. My dreams have been very crazy.

So whoever said that the second pregnancy is easier than the first is totally wrong. I won’t know if the 3rd is any worse or easier either!

There are times when I’m feeling brave and I go on walks even if I know I’ll be in pain later. I just can’t be stuck at home without any outside interaction. One can only take so much letters of the alphabet, children’s books, songs, numbers and colors!

I have a feeling Jayden has a sense that our whole world will change in a couple of months. He comes up to me and kisses my belly because he sees his daddy do it when he comes home from work, but he says it’s mommy’s panza (belly). He says he wants a baby and is very caring with his stuffed animals, but I don’t know if he knows there’s a baby in mommy’s belly. I know he will be an amazing big brother, but it won’t be until we have baby here at home that reality will struck.

In the meantime we are making sure we spend daddy’s days off to be together and show our Jay man a lot of love. When baby arrives we’ll make sure daddy and I have some Jay time while one of us stays with baby.

Next entry I’ll tell you guys about our baby name debate. I’m getting tired of referring to baby as, well baby.

I’ll leave you with a pic of me at 31 weeks  🙂


Bebé #2

No he escrito nada sobre la futura llegada de nuestro segundo bebé. Y para ser sincera se me ha ido tan rápido el tiempo, que me acaba de dar cuenta que tengo 26 semanas. En 14 semanas conocerémos a nuestro bebé a quien esperamos con mucho amor.

Me he sentido muy bien y me encanta verme en el espejo. Algo de estar embarazada me hace sentir aún más bella y me anima toda las mañanas. Me doy cuenta de el gran milagro que es tener un ser pequeñito creciendo dentro de mi. También, me pongo a pensar de como ha cambiado mi vida y todo lo que he vivido en mis 26 años de edad.

El 1er Trimestre

El primer trimestre fue un poco difícil. Era cuando me estaba arreglando los dientes y viajaba a San Diego cada mes. No me había dado cuenta que estaba embarazada y cuando lo supe temía tantas cosas. Decidimos no decirle a nadie hasta que tuviéramos 3 meses de gestación. Mi primer embarazo no se logró hace tres años y el miedo no se borra aún cuando tuve un embarazo sano que me dio a un hermoso hijo.

Esta vez me dieron unos ascos y mareos espantosos. Con el simple hecho de ver, me daba asco las cosas. Bajé mucho de peso porque solo podía comer ciertas cosas. Estaba en peligro de anemia porque me mareaba mucho y mis encías estaban blancas. Los ascos me daban con todo. Tuve que sacar todos los zapatos de la casa porque el olor a piel, plástico y hule me hacían correr al baño. Pobre de mi cuando tenía que cambiarle el pañal a mi niño. Cuando le preguntaban que como le hacía mamá, el contestaba “guac.”

Nuevamente no fui al doctor hasta después de las 10 semanas. Cuando vi a mi bebé en el ultrasonido vi que nuevamente me esperaba un bebé fuerte y con muchas ganas de vivir.

Poco a poco empezamos a anunciarle a nuestra familia de la noticia y muchos empezaron a adivinar que iba a tener. Que por cierto muchos dijeron que iba a tener niña. Yo desde un principio supe que yo sería madre de dos varoncitos. Pero yo solo lo que pedía y pido es un bebé sano.

El 2ndo Trimestre

Repito, que se me ha ido tan rápido todo que me temo no tener mucha información del progreso. En cuanto supe ya estaba en mis últimas semanas del segundo trimestre. Ya aquí fue dónde tuve un antojo grande y que yo temía nunca se me fuera a cumplir… Corundas!

Este antojito Michoacano me estaba volviendo loca. Cada planta que miraba yo me imaginaba corundas envueltitas y listas para comer. Le platiqué a mi mamá de mi antojo y ella le comentó a mi abuelita. Cuando regresó un tío de México mi querida Mamá Juana me mandó mi bultito de corundas.


En cuanto las recibí las calenté en un comal y me preparé una salsita roja para acompañarlas. Me arrimé un Coca y las prepare con su cremita. La primera mordida sentí tantas cosas que no pude contener las lágrimas. Era la mejor sensación del mundo. Ahora entiendo lo que significa la satisfacción del paladar.

Las lagrimas me corrían mientras me saboreaba las corundas que mi viejecita me había hecho con sus manitas. Las mismas manos que criaron a mi madrecita. La emoción fue muy grande y es algo que nunca voy a olvidar. Tendré que ir a Michoacán para ver a mis viejitos y darle un abrazo muy fuerte a mi Mamá Juana por haberme cumplido mi más grande antojo.


Hoy me encuentro sintiéndome muy bien. La semana pasada no podía decir lo mismo. Después de un viaje al acuario con mi esposo y mi niño me dio un dolor de caderas que me impidió caminar por toda una semana. La doctora ya me había dicho que con este embarazo mis caderas se estaban abriendo mas y que tenía que tener cuidado cuando cargara a mi niño. Hubo muchas ocasiones donde no hice caso y lo cargaba para ver a los peces. Eso y la falta de soporte de calzado me obligaron a quedarme en cama durante una semana.


Aquí estoy desobedeciendo órdenes de la Dra. y cargando a m niño muy feliz.

Así es amigos, nuevamente seré mamá y estoy muy ansiosa de conocer y tener a mi bebé aquí conmigo.