Why I’m focusing on the silver lining during this pregnancy

When I sat down to write this, I didn't know where to start. I wrote a version. Hit delete. Wrote another version. Hit delete again. My hesitations and constant revisions of documenting this moment in time mirror the experience of being pregnant during a global pandemic—many truths exist at once and streamlining it all feels nearly impossible.

This moment is filled with lots of uncertainty. Will this be over by the time my baby arrives? But also lots of certainties, too. This baby is coming via C-section at the end of May—if not before—global pandemic or not.

Lots of worries. If I contract the virus, what are the real effects on the baby? But also, thankfully, lots of joy. We're bringing another little life into the world!


I am 34 weeks pregnant with my second baby and my first child is 2 years old. I am the co-founder and creative director of Weezie and my husband also has his own company, so we're currently juggling both companies and our toddler as the due date for our next child quickly approaches (35 days, but who's counting?).

There seems to be plenty to worry about during this time. I'm worried that there is not enough research to know the true implications of COVID-19 on pregnant women and their babies. The thought of contracting it and then not being able to see my baby for weeks is incomprehensible. I'm worried that our hospital stay will be cut short and I'll be headed home to recover from a C-section before I'm ready.

I'm worried that by the time my baby is born, we still won't be comfortable having people in our house. As a business owner, I don't really have the luxury of taking maternity leave, so the thought of not being able to have extra help and no idea how long this will last are among the things that keep me up at night.

This is all on top of the "normal" COVID-19 worries: Will the curve flatten? Will they come up with a vaccine? Will the economy bounce back? Will our company make it? Will my husband's company make it?

And then also on top of my "normal" pregnancy worries: Will my baby be healthy? Will my delivery be okay? Will our daughter react well to the new baby? Will her sleep regress? I could go on and on…

Worries can be paralyzing. But just like everyone else, I need to be able to get up and function. For me, that means finding the positives. I keep telling my husband we're in silver lining survival mode. There are silver linings in the darkness right now and staying focused on those is what's keeping me going.

Part of me is actually grateful to be pregnant at this time. Growing a baby inside of you is the ultimate gift of perspective—a constant reminder that life will continue to go on with or without COVID-19's permission. So much about having a new baby, like the virus, is out of your control. Both require willful submission. Being pregnant already has me in the mindset of dealing with each day as it comes.

I count extra time with my daughter as another silver lining. Don't get me wrong, I am acutely aware right now that the stage she is in is often called the "terrible twos" for a reason. But alongside the tantrums and stress, she is a hilarious little human who I genuinely love hanging out with each day. Getting to spend all day with her means more laughs, cuddles and time watching the amazing person she is becoming.

Above all, I'm grateful that I have my home, my family and my health as a foundation. I know there are people (a lot of pregnant people, too) in far worse situations than me.

Happiness and hope are so much a product of how you perceive your reality. Pregnant or not, staying focused on my silver linings and keeping everything in perspective, is fueling my days. And I'm grateful for that mindset shift.

I felt lost as a new mother, but babywearing helped me find myself again

I wish someone had told me before how special wearing your baby can be, even when you have no idea how to do it.

My first baby and I were alone in our Brooklyn apartment during a particularly cold spring with yet another day of no plans. My husband was back at work after a mere three weeks of parental leave (what a joke!) and all my friends were busy with their childless lives—which kept them too busy to stop by or check in (making me, at times, feel jealous).

It was another day in which I would wait for baby to fall asleep for nap number one so I could shower and get ready to attempt to get out of the house together to do something, anything really, so I wouldn't feel the walls of the apartment close in on me by the time the second nap rolled around. I would pack all the diapers and toys and pacifiers and pump and bottles into a ginormous stroller that was already too heavy to push without a baby in it .

Then I would spend so much time figuring out where we could go with said stroller, because I wanted to avoid places with steps or narrow doors (I couldn't lift the stroller by myself and I was too embarrassed to ask strangers for help—also hi, New Yorkers, please help new moms when you see them huffing and puffing up the subway stairs, okay?). Then I would obsess about the weather, was it too cold to bring the baby out? And by the time I thought I had our adventure planned, the baby would wake up, I would still be in my PJs and it was time to pump yet again.

Slowly, but surely, and mostly thanks to sleep deprivation and isolation, I began to detest this whole new mom life. I've always been a social butterfly. I moved to New York because I craved that non-stop energy the city has and in the years before having my baby I amassed new friends I made through my daily adventures. I would never stop. I would walk everywhere just to take in the scenery and was always on the move.

Now I had this ball and chain attached to me, I thought, that didn't even allow me to make it out of the door to walk the dog. This sucks, I would think regularly, followed by maybe I'm not meant to be a mom after all.

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Sorry, you can’t meet our baby yet

Thank you for understanding. ❤️

In just over three weeks, we will become parents. From then on, our hearts will live outside of our bodies. We will finally understand what everyone tells you about bringing a child into the world.

Lately, the range of emotions and hormones has left me feeling nothing short of my new favorite mom word, "hormotional." I'm sure that's normal though, and something most people start to feel as everything suddenly becomes real.

Our bags are mostly packed, diaper bag ready, and birth plan in place. Now it's essentially a waiting game. We're finishing up our online childbirth classes which I must say are quite informational and sometimes entertaining. But in between the waiting and the classes, we've had to think about how we're going to handle life after baby's birth.


I don't mean thinking and planning about the lack of sleep, feeding schedule, or just the overall changes a new baby is going to bring. I'm talking about how we're going to handle excited family members and friends who've waited just as long as we have to meet our child. That sentence sounds so bizarre, right? How we're going to handle family and friends? That sentence shouldn't even have to exist.

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The American Academy of Pediatrics says that newborns, especially, do not need a bath every day. While parents should make sure the diaper region of a baby is clean, until a baby learns how to crawl around and truly get messy, a daily bath is unnecessary.

So, why do we feel like kids should bathe every day?

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