This piece marks the first of my monthly reflection series as a ‘new’ mom, so here’s its new category: Momhood. Feel free to follow for stories, cute baby snapshots, and whatnot of this aspect of my life.

Ellis Grayson Gonzaga (EGG 🥚) decided he was no longer gonna wait till our schedule for his extraction. That was supposed to be either Jan 25th or Feb 2nd.

The night before January 16th, I was experiencing pretty strong and long contractions, but I chucked it up to stress or pressure I’ve put on myself, and went to bed early.

The following morning, I was still contracting, so J insisted I inform my OB about it. I thought it would just go away later, and I still had my scheduled 1:1 with my colleagues at work. So I sent the message and logged on.

As I was chatting with my coworkers, I got her secretary’s message:

Hi maam. Ana si Doc maam adto naka sa ACE ER karon. [Hi ma’am, Doc said head over to the ACE Hospital emergency room now.]

Hoo boy, my anxiety levels spiked when I read that.

I said my goodbyes and love-you’s before leaving the call, showered, blow-dried my hair, braided it for good measure, and wobbled my way to the emergency room.

When the hospital staff wheeled me in to the labor room and strapped me up, their monitors revealed moderate to strong contractions. Although the baby’s heartbeat is normal, my poor, thin uterus was at risk if this kept up. My OB gave me a 30mg pill that hopefully would slow down and eventually stop the contractions. If it’d do its job, I could go home and wait for another week before coming back here for our intended schedule.

Five hours later, the contractions kept going, although this time it was in strong spikes. My OB also checked my cervix and found I was already 1cm open. 🤦‍♀️ They all decided to proceed with an emergency C-section to prevent any possible uterine rupture from happening.

That decisive moment was when my entire body and soul filled with fear. Yes, this isn’t my first rodeo. Yes, I’ve been through this ordeal before. But that fear and trauma of going under the knife again never truly leaves you. I shivered the entire time they prepped me on that cold steel table. Somehow, silent prayers for courage helped my body slow down and stop moving when it began and up until my doctor finished that last stitch.

7:28 PM January 16, 2026

That was when I heard Shoti Ellis’ first cry as they pulled him out.

As soon as I came out of my drugged state, I whipped out my phone and told the folks at work that I was taking my parental leave a week early.

Life truly has its way of throwing well-intentioned plans out the window. You just don’t know what to expect, but you gotta work with what you got. In doing so, it taught J and I flexibility, faith, resilience, and creativity.

One of the things I didn’t expect was Shoti needing to be in the NICU for longer than a few days after birth. His pediatrician told me his X-rays showed signs of pneumonia, so they have to keep him contained and on antibiotics. It didn’t register until after I started coming down for him that he had an IV line stuck to his left hand as well.

I still don’t understand what came over me, but my body and heart became so overwhelmed with him not being given to me right away. All three of my older kids were brought up to me as soon as I became conscious that it felt foreign or unusual why this baby wasn’t in my arms yet.

After my second attempt to breastfeed, the pediatrician walked into the room and promised that he could be brought up to the hospital room now that I was producing colostrum. I sat on that plastic chair for more than eight hours, waiting for the NICU staff to wheel him in, only to find out they had to wait for his neonatal doctor’s advice, or that his IV line back flowed and they need to reinsert it to keep giving his antibiotics.

The images those reasons conjured in my head sent me into this endless cry fest I couldn’t stop or hold in. All I wanted was my baby, to hold him and bring him home. It didn’t make sense to me why I couldn’t have him yet, that I don’t have a clear picture of what he looks or smells like.

At around quarter to midnight, the NICU nurse knocked on our door and finally wheeled Shoti in. I was still sobbing when I stood and picked him up right away, determined to keep him with me no matter what. I don’t know if this is what other moms call postpartum depression, but in that moment all felt right in the world again, and I just had to focus on getting us home.

This piece marks two weeks after our hospital stay—two weeks postpartum.

Shoti is sleeping in his crib while I’m pumping his breastmilk for tonight and writing. I’m hoping I could still take a shower and a nap before he wakes up for his next meal.

We’ve hit several small milestones since coming home:

• We survived what’s called ‘cluster feeding‘ during the first week. I only found out last night that it’s when the baby has several short feeding sessions, is fussy, and keeps waking up within 1-2 hours. Happens at night too, which makes J and I absolutely exhausted.
• I’m two weeks into giving my baby breastmilk exclusively. He just has a poor latch when he’s nursing because of my flat nipples. I’m using Medela nipple shields to help me keep this up, but the pain can be so unbearable. Just last night, I’ve given up nursing him during the evenings because of how he bites down.
• He has had several baths with J in the bath tub. He smells wonderful right after.
• The last piece of his umbilical cord came off yesterday, marking it as the day he’s no longer “attached” as how he was in the womb.
• His brothers, and somehow even our 15-year old daughter, has shown interest in him. N, my 11-year old, is growing quite fond of him that he visits the crib every night.❤️

I’ve got my sights on reaching his first month, getting his first round of vaccinations, eventually completing all three doses, so we can start spending more hours outside of the bedroom. It’s why I’ve not yet introduced him formally to the Corgis. I don’t know for sure if his body would be able to handle the air quality outside.

Everyone in our circle jokes about how we’ve hit the Reset button on parenthood, and true enough it’s made me feel a whirlwind of emotions about having a fourth baby.

Going through this first phase all over again, it’s been a humbling yet meaningful experience. The oxytocin is real, but I’m already craving for some stability and normalcy. 😭

I’m praying that things will become easier as Shoti grows up, and that I’ll be able to cope with all these new routines and ‘rules’ about baby’s health. Thank goodness we renovated the house, so I don’t feel the need to leave just to entertain myself.

2026 goals. Instant toss out. Pfft.