Jess

“Your hardest times often lead to the greatest moments of your life.”

-Roy T. Bennett

Even in the early dating stages of our relationship, David and I talked about having a family together. I had always wanted to be pregnant; I had always wanted to be a mom. David wasn’t always sure that he wanted children, but once we met and fell in love, we were so eager to just start. There was so much fun and excitement in thinking about our family and beginning to plan. I felt like I had finally found the man of my dreams, and I wanted him to be the father of my children. We actually started trying before we got married. Well, we weren’t really trying, but we weren’t not trying either. I figured, “If I’m pregnant at the wedding, I’m pregnant at the wedding.”

But it wasn’t happening. There was nothing going on.

After some time passed, I got all these medical tests done, and David got medical tests done too. The doctor called it “unexplained infertility.” To me, this was like, “What?! There has to be a reason.” I’m a person who needs a reason for things to be the way they are so I can accept them. If there’s no reason, I’m just like, “No no no, that’s unacceptable.”

We started the process of fertility treatments. I was giving myself shots, and we would go in every month for intrauterine insemination. But nothing was happening. I remember the first and second time that nothing took, I was like, “Ok, it’s all right, let’s just keep it going.” But then after the eighth, ninth, tenth time we tried… Every time, I would just take a test and fall to my knees crying. Every time. And David was so supportive, of course. But I knew he couldn’t quite understand how I felt as a woman. I thought, “My sole purpose is to bear children. Why isn’t this happening? I’m healthy…” It just didn’t make sense to me. If there was something wrong that I could get treatment for, then I would feel like, “Ok, I can understand that. We can move forward with that.” But being told there was nothing wrong… It just felt like there had to be something. I started going online, looking in books, trying to find what could possibly be wrong with me. I had moments where I selfishly blamed David. Nothing was wrong with him either. But you go through all of these emotions, all of these feelings, and all of these negative thoughts. It wears on you. It wears on your relationship. David and I have been through hard times. We’ve been through rough times with this process. And then after months and months of trying, we just decided that we were going to take a pause. We needed to take a pause, because it was starting to mess with our relationship. We needed to step away.

Soon after we decided to stop trying, David and I went to New Jersey to stay at his parents’ timeshare for the weekend. We really needed a weekend away. Going into it, I told myself, “Oh yeah, I’m going to drink and have a great time… eat everything… and whatever!” But when we got there, I felt so off the whole time. I couldn’t drink. I would lift my wine and be like “Ugh.” The only food that I wanted to eat was French onion soup, and I wanted to eat it for every meal. David thought I was crazy. I assumed I must be coming down with something. I thought I probably had COVID. I didn’t know. But something wasn’t right. 

My period was also late, which… my period is almost never late. But every now and then it is, just a day or two. So I just assumed, “Oh, this must be my off month.” I wasn’t even thinking. But when we came home on Sunday, I remember lying in bed, completely exhausted. And suddenly I popped up, thinking, “Hm… no cramps, it doesn’t feel like my period’s coming, let me take a test.” I still truly did not believe I could possibly be pregnant. I was casually in the bathroom, like, “La la la…” I put the stick down, and instantly it turned positive. My immediate thought was, “I need to take another, this one must be broken. It is absolutely broken.” So I took another one. It also said pregnant. And again, I just couldn’t believe it. There was no way. I literally took test after test, and then finally it sunk in, and I was like, “Oh. My. God.” I remember I screamed, and I ran out of the bathroom to David. For months, I had had this whole thing planned about how I was going to tell him. I had ordered onesies, I had ordered all these cute announcement things for my husband. But when it actually happened, I just screamed and ran out of the bathroom shouting, “DAVID! I’M PREGNANT!!” And then we just stood together and cried and held each other. I took another test. I was really pregnant. It was the craziest thing. I felt great. I was up here, on cloud nine. I felt great for weeks.

All of a sudden, right when 8 weeks hit, I was done for. Absolutely done for. There was not a single day that I did not throw up at least five times a day. It was horrible. At first, I thought, “Ok, I’m still in the early stages, this is normal. I hear you’re nauseous and you throw up.” But it kept going; it kept happening. Once I got into the second trimester and was still just as sick, I started thinking, “What is going on here?” I told my doctor, and she said, “Oh, yeah, pregnancy does that. I was sick during all of my pregnancies.” But to me it didn’t feel like a normal level of sick. I understand nausea, but this… It didn’t feel like I should be throwing up five, six times every day. It didn’t feel like I should be living in the bathroom. I actually lived in there. I had a blanket, a pillow... And I had to stop going to work. Every time I tried to work, I would just end up in the bathroom the whole time. All I could think was, “Please, I need some kind of help here.” 

I hear all the time about doctors not believing Black women, but I hadn’t felt it myself until that moment. I thought, “Ok. Now I get it. She doesn’t believe that I’m as sick as I am.” I tried everything you could think of to feel better - ginger, nausea bands - but nothing worked. I was like, “This is not a good time. This actually sucks. I hate this.” And I felt horrible, because… I don’t even want to say it. I’ve never said this out loud before, and I can’t say it without crying. I felt like I hated my baby. What kind of monster feels that way? That’s how I felt. And I felt horrible about it. Of course I couldn’t express that to anybody, because I would look like a woman who doesn’t deserve to be pregnant or to be a mother. And of course I didn’t feel that way in my heart. But in those moments where I was completely outside of myself, I hated everything about pregnancy. Absolutely everything. I didn’t have a moment’s peace. The only thing that brought me a little bit of joy was when I would feel Chloé kick. When I could feel her move around. When I could talk to her and sing to her and she would react. In those moments, I was like, “Ok. Ok. I can breathe a little bit now. I feel my baby.”

In my seventh month of pregnancy, I had to go to the hospital. On this particular day, I was non-stop throwing up all day. It was back-to-back-to-back throwing up for hours. David was working from home at the time, and I finally told him, “We have to go to the hospital.” I also hadn’t felt Chloé move all day, so I thought, “Oh my God, I’m so sick that… did I kill her?” And then my mind went to, “I said I hated my baby. Did God take away my baby?” 

We went to the hospital, they gave me an ultrasound, and Chloé was fine. She was just hanging out in there, kicking her little feet. I could finally breathe - I knew she was ok. And it was that day that I finally got a formal diagnosis for what I was suffering with. I mean, I knew what it was before then; I knew it was hyperemesis. I had already diagnosed myself, since nobody else would. But finally a doctor confirmed it, and they prescribed me Reglan. Until that point, I hadn’t realized that there was a medication I could take while pregnant to help me feel better. It changed everything. All I could think was, “Oh my God. Why didn’t my doctor listen to me? Why wasn’t this prescribed to me early on?” I suddenly felt great. I could eat. I could drink water. I could move around and do normal things without throwing up. And I hated my doctor for not listening to me. I knew what I was talking about. I knew it wasn’t just, “Oh, regular pregnancy stuff.” 

I couldn’t see a different doctor, because I couldn’t get in anywhere else, especially so far along. I remember when I went to my next appointment, I said to her, “I told you that I was sick. You did not listen to me.” And she just looked at me and said, “I’m so sorry.” What else could she say? I’m so happy that I finally got some relief and I was able to enjoy this beautiful miracle that was happening with me. For the last couple months of my pregnancy, I felt great. I felt great.

The week before July 4th, David and I were in “Operation Get Her Out Of Here.” I wasn’t sick anymore, but at that late point in pregnancy, I was just terribly uncomfortable. We walked all the way downtown from our apartment. We ate and we had a great time. I was scheduled for an induction soon after, but I ended up not needing it; that night I went into labor all on my own.

I had a really great childbirth experience. I thank God for that because of how hard my pregnancy had been. It took two attempts to get the epidural to work, but once it did, my labor and delivery experience was actually nice. I take my hat off to women who do it with no drugs. I am so glad I had the drugs!

My mom was in the delivery room with us. I just remember feeling so much pressure. I didn’t have much pain, but there was a lot of pressure that was very, very overwhelming. And Chloé wasn’t coming out right away. I was pushing, and pushing, and she would just go back in. At one point I remember yelling down there, “Work with me!” The nurses lost it. They were just laughing. I was like, “Work with me down there, come on!!” And then for that last push, they told me, “All right Jess, give it all you got.” 

Chloé came out absolutely perfect. Her eyes were wide open, looking around the room. She didn’t make a peep. I remember the nurses saying, “Oh my God, she is gorgeous.” And I’m just like, “Let me see her! Let me see her!” My mom looked at me and said, “Jess, I’ve never seen a prettier baby.” 

Nothing in the world feels like holding your baby for the first time. When I was pregnant, I was thinking, “This is it. One and done. I’m not doing this anymore.” But the minute they gave Chloé to me and she looked at her mama, I was like, “Yep, I think I got a couple more in me. I think one or two more for sure.” Nothing feels like that. She knew I was her mama. 

When she was in my belly, David and I would sing “My Girl” to her all the time and dance together. So we started singing “My Girl” to her in those early moments. And it was like she knew what the song was. It was like she knew that we are her mama and daddy and we are singing to our baby. It was just the absolute best. I would do it all over in a second. I would do it all over.

Being a mom is tiring and beautiful. It’s a constant adventure. I’ve learned a lot of lessons about myself. Chloé is so smart, and she’s so well-adjusted already. She’s so many amazing things. And of course naturally on her own that’s who she is. But sometimes I’m like, “Dang. I did that.” I don’t mean to sound cocky, but there are moments where I’ll think, “Damn, I’m a good mom.” I just kind of look at her in awe, like, “You’re amazing.” She’s funny, and witty, and all of these things already. She’s definitely taught me how to be patient. I thought I was patient before, but I wasn’t. Now I’m patient. You have no choice but to be. Kids make you live in the moment. I’m the type of person who is always on to the next thing. It’s just how my brain goes. I’ll think, “Ok, we’re done with that? What’s up, what else? Let’s move on to something else.” Chloé forces me to be in the moment. She forces me to appreciate things that I overlook on a daily basis. She’ll say, “Oh Mama, look up, clouds!” I mean, I see clouds every day, I don’t care. But sometimes I’ll stop with her and think, “Oh yeah, they’re really pretty.” It just makes life so much sweeter. I can’t imagine not being a mom. I’m so glad that I was blessed with this gift. I don’t know what life was before Chloé. I don’t know. It’s like a blur. I know it happened; I know I was there. I think I had a good time. But now I’m having the time of my life. I’m having the time of my life.

That said, there have been a lot of tough aspects of motherhood as well. Early on, when Chlo was younger, there were so many hard parts. I have a background in early childhood education, but there’s nothing like having your own child and experiencing it as a mom. I think I said, “What the fuck?” at least 115 times a day. It’s non-stop, like, “Who let this happen to us? What is going on here?” There were so many hard moments back then.

There were things I was prepared and excited to do with Chloé that just weren’t done because she didn’t like those things. Chlo came out Miss Independent. She didn’t like being swaddled. I was like, “Oh yeah, I’m going to wear her, I’m going to carry her all the time…” I had all of these cute carriers picked out, but she didn’t like being carried. This girl marches to the beat of her own drum. She does her own thing. She is not in any box, she’s out of the box somewhere. 

I also wasn’t prepared for how hard nursing would be. I had a pretty horrible nursing experience. Until Chloé, I didn’t know there was such a thing as making too much milk. “I can make too much? That’s not a thing…” It’s a thing. It was miserable. If I wasn’t feeding her, I was on the milk machine like a cow. I just made so much milk, all the time. I was always engorged, always in pain. It was exhausting. Chloé wasn’t waking me up at night, my boobs were. I would have to get up three times a night just to pump. People don't talk about that, and I was not prepared for it at all. I’ve heard of women not being able to produce enough milk, but too much milk? It’s a whole different topic of discussion. I had told myself that I was going to nurse Chloé for at least a year; that was my goal. But I couldn’t do it. I think I stopped at 7 months. It became so much, so time consuming. It took me away from time with her, because I was always hooked up to this machine. When I stopped, I felt guilty. I felt lazy. I felt like a lazy mom. But also I felt relieved, because I didn’t have to worry about taking care of my boobs anymore on top of taking care of a baby. It really did free up a lot of my life. Nursing was a bit of a dark time for me.

At this point in motherhood, the biggest challenge is thinking about me - remembering me. Remembering to go do something for myself. Even if it’s small. For instance, I haven’t bought anything for myself in forever. But the other day, I treated myself to some perfume. And that was like… you would have thought I just flew to Paris and back. I’m spraying it around like, “Oh my God, I feel so beautiful!” Hah. I was thinking, “When was the last time that I did this? When was the last time I had a moment?” That little perfume was like the highlight of my life. You would have thought David came in here with a 5-carat something. It was just perfume. But it was lovely. And it’s a reminder that it is really important to keep caring for yourself. If I’m not taken care of, how on earth can I take care of this little person? I want her to know that it’s important to do things for herself. But I can only tell her that if I’m doing it. It’s a lead by example thing.

It’s also been hard to balance my passion for cooking with being a mom. I have a small catering company, and we still have gigs every now and then, but I’m definitely not cooking as much as I expected to. And that’s because my number one desire is to be with my baby right now. As she gets older, I feel like it will be easier to get back out there - maybe even rebrand and do something a little different. But I… I’m not going to say I lost interest in my passion, I just rearranged its position in my life, because my greatest passion is my baby. She’s who I want to hang out with and what I want to do all day. You don’t get these moments back. I don’t want to miss anything. To me, there’s no job on this earth that’s worth me missing a single moment. Whatever I’m supposed to do with the rest of my life will come and happen in due time. But for right now, I feel like this is what I’m supposed to be doing.

I have moments now where I look in the mirror, and I remember this career person I was. I remember that woman. And I don’t want to lose sight of who she is, because that’s a part of who I still am. But right now, I’m just consumed in motherhood. And that’s what I want; that’s how I want it to be. A lot of my friends ask me, “Oh, how could you… it’s been so long, and you haven’t been back to work…” You know, they shame you but don’t really shame you. But I’m like, listen, a mom is a mom is a mom is a mom, whether you work or stay at home. We are all doing what we gotta do for our kids. That’s what we’re doing. And our paths doing that are just different. That’s all. There’s no right or wrong way here. It’s just different.

When I was growing up, my mom was super career driven and degree chasing. She was also very present - she came to a lot of my school activities, she was very involved in homework, all of that. But I don’t have memories of coming home and my mom being there. I remember going to friends’ houses and their mom would be there with snacks, and I don’t have those memories, because that’s not what my mom was doing. My mom was in a class, or at work. And I do love that I had that kind of role model in my life. But I can’t lie and say I didn’t wish at times I had more of an at-home mom. Even when I was very young, I said I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. I remember talking to David about that pretty early in our relationship. I couldn’t move forward with someone who didn’t support that. Everyone I had dated in the past had told me, “Nah, you’ve got to work.” But David was like, “Yeah, no problem.” 

I think for David and I, parenting is where we shine the brightest. We are a great team together in general. But we’ve got this parenting thing; it’s just natural for us. I will say, in the beginning, I was very nervous about it all. There were moments where I thought to myself, “All right… I can never leave…” But we really got there. David had four months of paternity leave, which we are so grateful for. Many dads don’t get that. He got the chance to really know Chloé and build that relationship with her. We’ve honestly been on the same page for the big things as parents. It took me a minute to accept that the way he does little things with her is only different, not wrong. Sometimes I’ll look over at them and have to take a deep breath and say to myself, “Mmmm, it’s just different. That’s it. He’s not doing anything wrong, it’s just not the way I would do it.” It’s a lot of that. But at the end of the day, we got this.

Last year, David, Chloé, and I moved into a house with my mom. My mom and I are very very close. I’m an only child, so I don’t have to share her with anyone else. And I’m so glad she’s here. When I was growing up, my mom was kind of strict with me in some ways. Of course a grandchild gets here and it’s, “Oh, you want chips for breakfast? Sure!” “Oh you want a lollipop? Ok!” Chlo will come walking in here with a chip, and I’m like, ok, she was just up with Gma. But it’s so special and rewarding that Chloé gets to grow up with her here. She gets so much wisdom. She gets to hear a different perspective on things. They have the most special bond. Every morning, I go get Chlo, and she says, “I want to see Gma!” She just loves my mom. And my mom is obsessed with her, so I’m happy. It warms my heart, it really does. Plus, it’s nice to have an on-site babysitter.

We live in King of Prussia, which is where I grew up. When I was young, this was a predominantly white setting. I remember the small racist comments that were made to me. I remember all of those things. I remember taking a spelling test, I think it was in fourth grade, and the teacher embarrassed me and emptied out my desk. She thought I must have cheated, because I got every word correct. She didn’t do that to anyone else in the class - I was the only Black girl in there. Even in fourth grade, I knew something wasn’t right with that. I remember telling my mom, and my mom came down to the school and handled the whole situation.

King of Prussia has come a long way since I lived here as a child. It is much more diverse. There are Black men and women in high positions in the school district. It was important to David and I that we settle in a place where we can see everybody. I don’t want Chlo to ever be in an all-Black area or an all-white area, or an all-anything area, because that’s not the world we live in. The church we joined here has everyone. That was important to us. I grew up in an all-Black church, and David grew up in an all-white church. We both said that we wanted to raise our children in a church that has everyone. We want our kids to be accepting and loving to everyone, and we want them to learn naturally how to be around anyone and feel comfortable and confident. 

When I was in high school, I moved to Atlantic City, NJ, and I was uncomfortable being around all Black people. I was not used to it. It was culture shock. I’m grateful for that experience, and I definitely benefited from it, but it was just so different. I remember just feeling so out of place, like I didn’t belong. Of course I belonged - I’m a Black girl - but I didn’t feel like I was good enough to be around all Black people. And it was such a weird feeling. Why would I feel this way? I felt more comfortable with white people for a long time. It’s just so interesting what living in certain areas does to you as you grow up and how it impacts how you feel. Now I’m grateful for both experiences, because I know how to be around anyone and stay exactly who I am. I don’t feel like I have to change my personality depending on who I am with.

I do have fears about raising a little Black girl of my own. I want her to know how to protect her body and protect her mind, because there are people out there who will want to take advantage of her. And as she grows up, there can be a lot that can get in her way school-wise and career-wise being a Black girl. I don’t want her to go through those things.

I want to be able to protect her from whatever is going to work against her, but at the same time, I hope that I can raise a girl who is strong and confident and who knows she is smart. I want her to feel like she can always tell me anything. My fear is that she will keep things from me that I can help her with, because chances are, I’ve been through them myself.

I just want Chloé to thrive. I’m so excited to see what will interest her as she grows. What are her hobbies going to be? What is her favorite subject going to be? What’s she going to excel at? Is she going to be in sports? Is she going to dance? I think about those things all the time, and as much as I want to hold onto this moment right now, I’m excited for the future. I’m excited to see who Chloé is going to become. She’s an amazing girl already. She loves dinosaurs, and I think, “Is she going to be a paleontologist?” She has a gift for taking things apart and putting things together, and I think, “Oh my gosh, is she going to be an engineer?” She loves her doctor’s kit and loves going to the doctor. She thinks it’s so much fun. And the doctor’s always like, “Wow, she’s the best toddler I’ve had in here.” Chlo always says, “Oh yeah, the stethoscope!” She calls it the supsup. So then I think, “Is she going to be a little doctor? My little surgeon?” So many things! She loves gymnastics - “Is she going to be a gymnast?” David is like, “Ok, she’s not going to be ALL of those things…” And I’m like, “You don’t know that! She might be!” 

You can do it all, you can do it all, baby.

“Your hardest times often lead to the greatest moments of your life.”

When it comes to my experience of becoming a mom, I had some dark moments. And they actually had nothing to do with my baby; my issue was never my baby. My issue was my body. I felt like my body just worked against me the whole time. And that’s something that needs to be talked about.

Between pregnancy and nursing, there was a lot that I wasn’t prepared for. I was not ready for it. There was so much I had never heard of. And I had read books, but none of them… I needed something that would just give it to me straight. Something that would tell me, “Look, this is what could potentially happen.” If I had had something like that, I don’t think I would have felt as dark as I did. I would have known that what I was going through was somewhat normal.

Women need to know that they’re not alone in feeling what they feel; these experiences need to be normalized. People often paint these pictures of pregnancy and nursing, where it looks like it’s so wonderful all the time, but many times it’s not. This should just be normal conversation between women. We’ve got to talk about this stuff. If we can’t talk about it with each other as women, as moms, what are we doing? We are doing each other a disservice.

We’re a sisterhood. We’re a mom gang. We need to be more open and raw with each other. I think it’s important to let future moms know that, hey, pregnancy can be great. It can be beautiful. It can be all of these wonderful things. But it can also freaking suck. You can hate it, and guess what? That’s ok. You can absolutely hate it, and that’s ok. It was during my pregnancy that I saw my life starting to completely shift away from me and who I was. I am not the same person I was before I became a mom. She’s in there, there’s pieces of who I was in there, but it’s not the same at all. It changes you, and if it doesn’t change you, I think that’s a problem. I think it’s supposed to change you. There’s supposed to be a shift that happens when motherhood is given to you. Because that's what it is, it’s a gift. It really is.