Family


I’m not one of those women who loved being pregnant. My body was taken over by someone else, literally. I didn’t like the extra attention from strangers asking me when I was due, or telling me how pregnancy suited me. I counted down the days until I reached forty weeks. Maybe both of my babies and my body sensed how much I wasn’t into this pregnancy thing, since both babies came early.

Have you ever wanted to give your child the best and couldn’t? What if the best was something that 99% percent of mothers could give but you couldn’t? For me, this happened very early on in motherhood: I couldn’t produce enough milk to feed my first child, my son Rocco. Only 16 months after my son Rocco was born, the breastfeeding anxiety has returned with the birth of my daughter Giada last month.

I thought I had this baby thing figured out. I just had a baby 16 months ago, so the hours of research I did for Rocco should hold water, right? Then, this week, beautiful baby Giada makes her early appearance, and I’m back to scouring the interwebs. This time, I’m in search of information about preemies.








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