Photo by Kimber Brown Photography

Pumping rules everything around me.

I will explain myself to you, as I feel compelled to explain myself to everyone who asks me about breastfeeding (which is actually an alarming amount of people that I encounter). Call me old fashioned, but talking about my breasts generally makes me uncomfortable. The judgement makes it even worse.

After Blake was born, we were visited by 2 lactation consultants that told me his latch looked perfect. I was wheeled out of the hospital feeling confident about breastfeeding. Boy was I wrong.

When Blake was 3 days old, we went for our routine visit with his pediatrician and were told that he had lost weight to the point where we needed to go to the lab to have his blood tested for high bilirubin levels. His doctor told us to start supplementing with formula immediately and that if we didn’t get his weight up quickly, he would be hospitalized. We were obviously scared and started feeding the poor guy around the clock by both breast and formula from bottles. After 2 additional days of blood testing (getting a vial of blood from a newborn is BRUTAL), he was back to his birth weight and we were given the all clear.

Mark and I were both traumatized by the experience and we continued to feed Blake around the clock. He was falling asleep at the breast after about 3 minutes of feeding, so he was getting a majority of his feeds from formula. After meeting with several lactation consultants and having one visit us at our house, I found that Blake was only getting about an ounce of milk every time he breastfed. To make matters worse, he had developed a strong preference for bottles. We also found out that he had a “tongue tie” which was causing him to fall asleep at the breast because he had to work so hard to eat, even though he had a perfect latch. We scheduled a frenectomy which would later take place when he was 4 weeks to release the tongue tie and hopefully help to make breastfeeding more productive and also help with his constant spitting up, since he wouldn’t be taking in so much air during feeds.

In the meantime, I started a crazy schedule of pumping 10 times a day for at least 15 minutes each session to make sure that I didn’t lose supply. I would fight with Blake all day long to try to get him to take my breast. I would do the feed with a bottle and switch to boob trick, try every position in the book, and do skin to skin all day long. I literally spent hours each day having him scream and kick as I desperately tried to shove my nipples in his face and you know what? I hated it. He hated it. On the rare occasion when he would breastfeed, I would immediately have to set him down to pump after. It was no way to live so you know what? I did what was best for BOTH of us and it was not the breast.

Pumping 10 times a day was not a sustainable lifestyle for me. I was frazzled, unhappy, and stressed. Now I pump when I can, on average 6 times a day. I breastfeed when we both feel like it. I offer and if he is in the mood, we do it, if he doesn’t feel like it, we don’t. As a result, he is drinking about half breast milk, half formula. If he falls asleep on me, I let myself hold him instead of rushing to put him down and pump. If I want to go out of the house and don’t feel like pumping, oh well.

I understand the benefits of exclusively breastfeeding, but having my baby scream and cry all day while I push my boob in his face is far from the best thing for us. I wish things were different because I despise pumping and cleaning bottles, not to mention how much easier my life would be if I didn’t have to heat up formula in the middle of the night. But these are the cards that I have been dealt and I’m doing my best to have a winning hand for Blake.

Mark says that it’s all in my head, but when anyone (let’s be honest, it feels like literally everyone) asks me about breastfeeding, I feel like I need to explain our story and I inevitably feel so much judgment. Society is all rah rah normalize breastfeeding, but I don’t feel like we pumping moms get much love. Today our pediatrician told me that I was doing an amazing job by sticking with it. My husband tells me that I am wonderful and supports me the best he can while I’m doing my full-time pumping job. My son is happy and thriving. That’s really all the support I need.

I salute you, pumping mamas. Because it sucks, literally. Here’s to the breastfeeding mamas, because that shit is not easy. Cheers to the exclusive formula mamas because you figured out what was best for you and your kid. Fed is best. I can’t wait to throw both of my pumps out the window when my little man is 6 months.

I suffered through the entire next day, diligently charting my contractions on an app. At this point, I hadn’t slept for more than a few minutes at a time for almost 48 hours. With contractions now meeting the timing criteria, we went back to the hospital. I was now a solid 3cm. I was not pleased to hear that low number. The ER doc was leaning towards sending me home again (with drugs this time!), but luckily my Dr was on call and told him to admit me and to help speed things along with Pitocin. I was admitted at around 3 and in my room by 4AM. I asked to not be given the Pitocin until after I could get an epidural because the pain was already so intense that I didn’t think I could sit still if it got worse. I got the epidural and started on Pitocin at around 5AM, still at 3cm.

Sidenote – epidurals are INCREDIBLE, I highly recommend epidurals. My anesthesiologist was a rockstar because I could feel everything, but without pain.

When the nurse came in at 6AM to check on me, I was dilated 6. They then quickly took me off Pitocin because I was moving along so quickly, likely on my own (I knew that I was right to go to the hospital!!) She told me that if we let labor progress on its own, I’d likely start pushing by noon. Mark and I called our parents and tried to nap a bit.

At about 12PM, my nurse came back in and said that I was dilated to 10. She told me that pushing usually takes about an hour and that I should do a couple of practice pushes before she called my Dr so she could come to the hospital from her practice across the street. After 2 sets of practice pushes, the nurse started hollering for assistance from other nurses and they started calling my Dr frantically… he was almost coming out. They had me close my legs and to fight any urge I might have to push.

The next few minutes were completely chaotic as nurses came in to check out, “all that hair” and another Dr came running in, throwing on her scrubs in case my Dr didn’t make it.

My Dr ran in, and the baby plopped out. Literally. I didn’t even push, he came out during a contraction!! They put him skin to skin, Mark cut the cord, and I enjoyed the bizarre epidural haze holding the baby that had been inside of me for the last 9 months, completely awestruck. We went in with 2 names, Blake Albus and Neville Hiro.. he came out kicking and screaming, quite upset to be out of his uterus home and we knew he was a Blake (named after Mark’s favorite basketball player, Blake Griffin).

Read on if you’re a Harry Potter fan:

Mark and I started watching the Harry Potter movies in order after I reached active labor at 8 cm so we could see what scene our kid decided to make an entrance at (thinking it would take 5 movies or so at least). We made it through the first film and onto the second because I went so fast. At some point during the chaos of trying to get a doctor to me in time, a nurse must have bumped the screen on our Microsoft Surface and paused The Chamber of Secrets. A few minutes after Blake was born, we realized that the screen was frozen on the scene with blood on the wall that says, “The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir.. Beware.” LOL!!

I’m sure this is personified by a combination of family pressure about being without children and just society as a whole. But you know what? I’m working on it. This is my first Christmas of being married to my husband and I want to celebrate it as a family. A family unit that is just as valid as any other. One that gets to carve our own traditions and feel the magic of the holidays. Next year I plan on addressing our cards from The Guerrero Family, but I think this is a good start. <3

Merry Christmas and happy holidays.

xo

This past Easter weekend marked my 4 year anniversary with Mark. If you would have told me 4 years ago that I would be living with Mark in his amazing, modern home with views of downtown LA (where I’d be working), and now married to him, I would have had you committed. Why am I so lucky? I’ll never know, but I’ll take it!

I haven’t been blogging, but I blog in my head, you know? I go to a restaurant and I take mental pictures to show you. I twirl around in a new skirt and I wish you were there. Mark and I run in the park and I make stupid jokes and laugh and laugh and you guys are pushing me during my exercise routines. And you better believe you were at my wedding dress fittings. Even though I’m not blogging, you are still there with me everyday, and sometimes I miss you so badly that I realize that I need a smack upside my head to get me back on track. This isn’t a job, this is a friendship and like all bff’s, it needs to be maintained. So while I am quite possibly in one of the busiest times of my life, here I am.

I missed you. You look pretty today, btw.

I know, I’ll begin with this: I’m sorry I’ve been away. I have a super great excuse, so just hear me out for a moment.

This will be my 4th attempt at putting my thoughts on paper. I struggled with the previous drafts of this post because I truly have trouble creating a narrative for such important and intertwined subjects. I hope laying them out in chronological order will help, as bullet-point keynote thoughts of what I’ve feeling.

-Several years ago I moved into my parents’ home (to be closer to my father, he was terminally ill). It feels like decades have passed since then. For the time being, coming home to my mother and  home-cooked gourmet meals with a DVR replaying cheesy sitcoms and talent-based reality shows has been grand. I love my mom, she’s become one of my best friends, and I loved living with her. Despite all that, I have to admit that I never felt home. Some nights I’d wake up and still feel like my bed was not my bed, I’ve merely temporarily moved in. I never truly unpacked…

-And of course, outside of my mom’s home is Riverside County (I grew up in Orange County, but my parents moved shortly after I graduated high school to shorten my dad’s daily commute). I can only say that the town she lives in can be very uneventful. It’s a city known for its stimulated agriculture; crime statistics that keep me from inviting friends; and small-town mentalities that permeate through politics and town gossiping. While her house is warm and beautiful, the city and society outside her door is not necessarily my cup of tea. I also won’t go into my job dissatisfaction, let’s just say it wasn’t a good fit…

-Furthermore, outside of Riverside County are my friends (very outside, like I-didn’t-have-a-single-friend-within-a-50-mile-radius outside). There have been nights of depression when reading a stream of open invites on Facebook, Twitter, and texts from friends calling on me for a Disneyland outing, a Taco Tuesday, or a Mad Men Movie Night. The traveling between where I worked/slept and where I wanted to be was the one thing I felt I should, tolerate, even if it meant driving home on 2 lane roads or spending nights at my boyfriend’s, gracious friend’s, or sometimes hotel rooms, just to wake up in the early morning for the 70+ mile commute back to work. For about two years, spontaneity was a luxury for me…

-At that time, my job’s hostile workplace, 3+ hr commutes, displaced feeling of home, and uncertain future tested my relationship with Mark. Weeks were littered with nights spent re-assuring/freaking out/arguing against fears/cheering up/calming down a depressed Aline. There was more crying than there should be in an average relationship. Restless nights asking myself “where will I be in a year” and scaring myself with worst case scenarios which did a number on my happiness, and in turn, affected our relationship. I felt trapped in my work and living situation, terrified about my future…

-Luckily, Mark was determined to convince me of my “strong potentials, job skills, and work experience,” until he pushed me to take the first step: dusting off my resume. During the last 14 months, this job hunt was filled with its highs and lows, false call backs, bottled frustration, and hopeful follow-up calls. I was half-hearted and picky at first, only applying to “dream jobs.” It wasn’t until my the launch of In Case of Fireworks that I went into job search overdrive. The grind of literally spending every waking hour after work writing cover letters, tailoring multiple resumes, and scouring websites for leads was exhausting. The free time I had used for movies, driving out to friends, blogging, reading, video games, and all the other things that kept me sane, were replaced with job searching. Meanwhile at work, tensions and stress had become unbelievably high, more than a job should be, so taking off an entire day to interview became risky…

-One week in February, I applied to a record-breaking 50+ listings, and as fate would have it, one of those led to a successful phone interview, preliminary interview, and then in-person interview. When I entered The Job‘s workplace, I fell in love and texted Mark with “this is heaven!” I finally understood how it was possible to love your job to the point that it does not feel like work. Everyone I interviewed with was so pleasant. The satisfaction of the actual tasks, roles, and responsibilities the position had was a perfect fit. Everything else that came with it was surreal too. The beautifully modern offices, the 360 views (hi Hollywood sign), the benefits of longevity, the perks (weekly brunches/lunches, etc), the office proximity (literally next to my favorite LA building), AND friendly people? I wanted the job…

-In the past I’ve only been promoted and recruited from previous positions so I hadn’t interviewed in over a decade. And here I was, interviewing for a 3 1/2 hour interview with 7 people! The two weeks that followed was roller coaster of emotions for Mark and I. From the sinking “I’m not going to get it,” to the shaking, OMG-I-cannot-believe-it lottery feeling, and the humbling fact that such nice people even considered me…

-Needless to say, I was hired! The days that followed the acceptance are now remembered as my happiest, most vivid dream like “is this happening?” week. Both Mark and I literally shed tears of joy when I got the call. It was the start of my new life. No more hostile and unhealthy workplace, no more questionable future scenarios, no more 70mile distances to drive to my friends, no more nomadic feelings of not having a home to call my own, no more distractions from our happiness. Reality washed away my collection of  worse case/settling scenarios. A tidal wave of happiness!!!!

Which brings us to today.

I started my new job in the Financial District of DTLA. It’s still hard for me to explain why this move is so monumental for me. I know those closest to me understand why it’s so much more to me than just starting a new job, my own place to move in to, and taking back months of free time…

-This month has also been very special to me as it marks my 2 year anniversary with my boyfriend. We are happier than ever. He loves to remind me of my journey, of the highs and lows and tells me that I finally got what I deserve. It’s become an inside joke, he randomly texts me and say “you made it” or “aline, it’s all over :-)” It’s now a grand experience looking for a place to live, to call home, finally, within Los Angeles*. I can FINALLY attend to the lists of outfit posts, drafted Enjoyable entries, and all the other lovely things that I’ve been itching to get back into. I am excited. Believe me when I say that things are good. Really, really good..

I’ve never been this happy :)

-*(Now, looking towards the future, another potentially huge thing happened the same week I accepted my new position. It’s still a little early to talk about it, but I will keep you posted.)

It was a tough decision to close the doors on something I was so deeply connected to, but I chose to take down Through the Looking Glass last year. I had outgrown it and I wanted to start fresh. Even after I had removed it from public view, it really really really sucked when my domain was attained by some sort of domain squatting spambot.

Since Through the Looking Glass, loads have changed. I experienced a really big (and not so great) move. My exercising routine is now at the forefront of priorities. I went from having the two best doggies in the world to one. My culinary and fashion choices have been exposed to so much. I started dating my best friend, the man of my dreams. I’ve shuffled around my close circle of friends, losing few and gaining some. This has also been the same time that my father lost a 4 year battle with cancer. I’ve learned more about myself in the last two years than I have maybe in the last 8.

The result of life changes and fluctuations? I am happier than ever. I have my Mark. I have this website (I have yet to give the official thanks to the two responsible for it). I have a revamped eye-catching resume that’s helping me chase my dreams. I have the greatest friends including my bff, and because of her I have Gadchick and The Slow Readers. I have Twitter (if you know me, you know that Twitter is basically my favorite thing ever and has changed my life in wonderful ways).

I am ready to come back here. I have missed blogging terribly. I’ve moved on from the things that have pulled me away from blogging, and I’m now focusing on the things that make me, well, just happy (I count 4 so far). Why then, In Case of Fireworks, Break Glass? Well first off, I would never question fireworks, as for the rest of the title, let’s just say I’m ready to break what came before this. I used to only look through the looking glass, it seems. The person I am today is tired of looking, I am ready to live.

I couldn’t be happier than I am today. Being able to share this with you is so special to me. Although the blog has launched, version 2.0 coming next year shall bring many social changes! I appreciate you being here and I am so thrilled to have found my way back to this wonderful community that means so much to me.

I am back :)

Disclaimer: A Life-Learner Aline posts are personal accounts in being taught something I am completely new to, with very little to zero experience. By no means is it a tutorial!

I used to find my limited knowledge of Photoshop endearing.  I’d put a ridiculously scaled mustache on my Mark’s face, throw my head on Pikachu’s body, place myself in the middle of a video game.  While cute (and hilar to me), my self-taught “skills” did me no good in terms of general photo editing, you know, what it’s meant for.

Left: Original, Right: attempting to trick Mark into thinking Boba Fett was the popcorn turner.

My boyfriend, an architectural designer, on the other hand uses it heavily for work (and to make me hilarious things). After sitting down with Mark for a few beginner lessons, I feel I can grasp the basics that have been proven useful (for now).

The basic tools that I have been using are Lasso, and it’s cousin Marquee (shortcut M), both used for selecting areas on the active layer.  The concept of layers make me feel like I’m putting overhead transparencies on top of one another.  I had to remember that my working area is not flat until I’ve gotten used to glancing at the Layer window to see what level I’m on in the image. The other basic tools I’ve learned to use are the Type tool, the Move tool (shortcut V, why V? I have no idea, I’m guessing because it looks like an Arrowhead), and the ever useful Transform (Control + T) as it’s used for sizing and and rotating selections. Beyond this, I’ve picked up on Levels, Image Size, Canvas Size, and Level Adjust, and the popular Stamp Tool.

Above: The end result of my very first Beginners Session, not bad right?

I’m a little more confident being properly introduced to Photoshop.  Before, I used Picnik for cropping and re-sizing.  For Tone adjustment I’d turn to Picasa. For quick collages I’d open up none other than (smh) MS Paint.  And to be honest, I think I have GIMP installed on my work computer, but I never liked the name so I never used it. So, why Photoshop if I have so many alternatives? Well, because I’d like to have just one go-to tool instead of so many, so I’m going to keep learning. I know there are a lot of great tutorials online, but it’s also an opportunity to learn something new from someone so, so, patient ;).

Teacher’s Notes:

I was happy to teach Photoshop to Aline, as Photoshop is a household name both online and off. I do think she grasped the basic concepts, and eventually I’ll let her have some fun with Filters. Like many powerful programs, one just has to know enough of the tool to do the task at hand so the job is simplified and satisfied, the same goes for CAD programs, DSLRs, or even the operating system you’re using now. I’m glad she wasn’t overwhelmed and is still eager to explore it.