Does This Baby

I am a fashionista. A woman that loves how clothing can provide beauty, and glamour to people, especially attractive people. I watch TV shows to see what the characters wear, not what they're up to. My long term health is only a small part, of why I do yoga. I want to get in shape, so I can fit into designer sample sizes. During my pregnancy, I wore my designer maternity jeans with loose blouses, and a tailored jacket, or a cardigan on top. On my lazy days, I wore my Uggs, but always with a cute little dress, or skinny jeans, (I left my fly undone until I couldn't wear them anymore). I was as huge as house by the 8th month, but I always had style. So of course, when baby was to arrive, I knew I still wanted to look great. Aside from such restrictions as breastfeeding, (all tops had to be able to let my boob out some how), I wasn't going to let motherhood stop me from wearing fabulous clothes. However, now that Eloise is on solids, and now that I have carrot stains on

I've noticed just in the recent weeks how fond of my dad Eloise is. There is a picture of him holding her on the fridge. At the sight of it, she smiles and starts the cutest giggles. When she was around 4 months old she would smile at random Asian men, or Asian women with short hair. I truly believe it's because, she thought they were her grandpa. I was on the phone last night with my dad, and told him about the picture. He was choking back tears, as he exclaimed how his heart was melting. Like all Asian kids, I've grown up being told by my parents, that I owe them big time for raising me. Parts of the repayment plan include, saving yourself marriage, getting married period, being some sort of professional, and buying a huge mansion of a house, where multiple cars can be parked in the front yard. And of course, the birth of a grandchild. Nagging aside, I've always intended on making sure my parents knew, how grateful I was to them, for my middle class upbringing.

One of the greatest gifts of pregnancy is not having your period. No tampons, no maxi pads, no embarrassing marks on bedding, or clothes that hubby, after all these years, still asks what they could be. I smile and say, "A cut shaving my legs...maybe?" He figures it out, shuts up, and moves on. Thank god. It's been quite wonderful not having that conversation. But here I am 18 months later, with my period. Wasn't breastfeeding supposed to prevent this?