First-Time Mom
I became a mom for the first time in 2004, at 27. I was over the moon, picturing a smooth, seamless natural birth—until reality knocked me back to earth. After a traumatic emergency C-section, I found myself not only battling the baby blues but also facing the full arsenal of breastfeeding challenges. The first few weeks postpartum felt incredibly isolating. To make matters worse, my sweet boy struggled with colic for what felt like an eternity. The days seemed long, and the nights stretched on even longer. The only thing that could soothe him, even briefly, was being held in my arms as I danced.
While my body bounced back faster than I expected, there were days when I thought I might lose my mind. One of the only steady—and stern, no-nonsense—voices of encouragement during that time was my child’s pediatrician, who prodded me to keep breastfeeding and made it clear that nursing in public was nothing to fuss about. Still, with barely any knowledge about breastfeeding and no real support—and, unknowingly, a dwindling milk supply—I did what any new, clueless, overwhelmed young mom would do: I winged it. I did my best to keep my baby fed with the circle of care I had (or didn’t have) at the time.
After three exhausting months, the colic subsided, and my once-fussy baby blossomed into the most peaceful, calm, and easygoing little guy imaginable. We breastfed for half a year, though not exclusively. And just when breastfeeding became this blissful experience, my curious six-month-old lost all interest. So, without knowing any better, I relied on formula and bottles well into his toddler years. It wasn’t the journey I had imagined, but it was our journey—messy and real, with a side of colic, lots of dancing, endless bottle sterilizing, and a whole lot of love.
Mom Again
In 2017, I had my second child. By this point, I was 41—older, wiser, and infinitely more confident. With a visual, gentle birth plan I had designed and a list of my breastfeeding goals, I was absolutely unafraid to advocate for myself. I chose to labor at home, avoiding unnecessary interventions at the hospital. After hours of walking and a few leisurely laps in the pool, my contractions started to pick up, and I labored through the night. The next day, as I sat down for lunch, my water broke while I munched on a Caesar salad (a foreshadowing of things to come, haha).
After 72 hours of unmedicated labor, an unsuccessful VBAC attempt, and yet another C-section (thankfully, one I was much more mentally prepared for), I finally made it to recovery. And there she was—my sweet girl, screaming, "Mama, what took you so long?!"
While recovery was slower and more physically demanding this time around, I found myself in a much stronger headspace. I was determined to breastfeed—and I did, until my little three-and-a-half-year-old decided she was done. It was wonderful, for the most part.
I vividly remember the early months... those late nights alone—sitting on the couch in the quiet of our living room, baby cradled in my arms, tears streaming down my face as I whispered desperate prayers, asking God for help. I didn’t want to dread these precious moments with my daughter; I wanted to savor them. But up until that point, I couldn’t. I was in excruciating pain. All I wanted was to nurture my baby and meet her needs in the most biologically natural way, yet it felt as if my body was failing me.
When I developed a cluster of persistent, severe symptoms—marked by episodes of vasoconstriction and deep, neuropathic pain—finding clear answers proved difficult. Those I consulted reassured me that everything appeared normal—baby’s latch was good, and there were no obvious issues. Still, I was in significant pain, and no one could explain why, let alone offer meaningful help. So, my deep dive into lactation research began, armed with nothing but determination and Google.
My WHY
I’ve always wondered how breastfeeding—something so deeply rooted in our biology and shared humanity—could be so overlooked and misunderstood, despite being vital to our health and essential for nurturing the next generation. How did something so fundamental to human thriving become either dismissed as a mere lifestyle choice or elevated to a heroic deed, rather than recognized as a basic right for every infant? At what point did we become so detached from the simple, inherent normalcy of breastfeeding—a natural, biological process divinely designed to sustain life?
Moreover, why was breastfeeding so darn difficult? Was it our bodies that failed us, or did the systems around us fail to provide the education and support we desperately needed?
This curiosity, paired with frustration, pushed me to learn everything I could about the science of human milk and lactation. As I delved deeper, it became painfully clear that there were significant gaps in the system—particularly in the continuum of lactation care. It was then that I knew I wanted to one day help bridge those gaps and offer the compassion, knowledge, and support that families deserve.
More Than Milk
Becoming a mother for the first time was nothing short of life-changing—an experience that reshaped my priorities and sense of self. Becoming a mom again, 13 years later, was equally transformative, though in a different way. This time, I embraced the role with a calmness that only experience could bring. I leaned into the rhythms of motherhood with patience and quiet confidence, and what once felt isolating no longer did.
Breastfeeding evolved for me as well. It became not just a means to nourish, protect, and bond with my baby, but a sacred space where I could reconnect with my body, learn to trust it, and reclaim a sense of agency over my life.
In 2020, a year weighed down by heartbreak, loss, personal turmoil, and a global pandemic, breastfeeding became a way for me to pause and ground myself in the present. It offered me a sense of control in a world that seemed to be spiraling out of control. In many ways, breastfeeding became a quiet act of resilience, a subtle defiance against the overwhelming chaos that surrounded me. For my daughter, it was a sanctuary—her safe space amidst the storm.
Lactation Training
In 2023, I took a significant step forward by pursuing formal lactation training with Childbirth International (CBI), the only professional birth and lactation training organization accredited with distinction by the American Nurses Credentialing Center (ANCC). A year and a half later, I earned my Lactation Counselor certification, and Snuggle & Suckle was born.
In addition to my training with CBI, I've dedicated numerous hours to continuing education through conferences and lectures hosted by various international organizations, further expanding my knowledge and expertise. My current areas of special interest include human milk banking, trauma-informed care, and lactation support in neonatal intensive care units (NICUs) and humanitarian emergency contexts.​
Locally, I enhanced my learning through intensive one-on-one training and mentorship with Arugaan’s founder and renowned lactivist “Nanay Ines” Avellana-Fernandez, who taught me the wonders of integrative lactation/relactation massage, and whose decades-long dedication to promoting, protecting, and supporting breastfeeding in the Philippines has been truly inspiring.
I'm also a member of the International Lactation Consultant Association (ILCA) and the Institute for the Advancement of Breastfeeding & Lactation Education (IABLE). These affiliations provide me with access to valuable tools, resources, and the latest evidence-based education. Currently, I'm working toward my International Board Certified Lactation Consultant (IBCLC) certification, which I aim to earn within the next couple of years.
When you work with me, you’ll have a dedicated lactation professional by your side who has a comprehensive understanding of lactation and breastfeeding and a commitment to staying up-to-date with global trends, emerging research, and best practices. I am truly grateful for the opportunity to do this work and remain continually inspired by the families I have the privilege of supporting.
If you're seeking compassionate, skilled lactation care, I would be honored to support you. Learn more about how we can work together or schedule a consultation to begin.