I made a big oopsie on Twitter recently. I wrote, “My son is the love of my life.” Poor Cory; I totally forgot him. And I can’t even blame it on pregnancy brain anymore. I am just so head over heels with this little boy! Cory forgave me—he feels the same way. Sometimes we just stand over Cree’s crib, watching his chest rise and fall as he sleeps. We applaud when he poops and cheer if he douses us in spit-up. It’s magic and we’re totally under his spell. We actually argue over who gets to feed him when he wakes up every three hours in the middle of the night (“I’ll do it—you sleep.” “No, I got it!”). Every perfect, tiny finger and toe is a miracle. I can’t believe this little person used to be inside me, kicking up a storm. When I’m exhausted and stressed to the breaking point, I just have to pick him up and smell his head (nothing smells more delicious!) and all my anxiety melts away. No one tells you that, either—that someone so tiny could have such power over your heart. They couldn’t tell you; you have to feel it for yourself. I love my son so much, it takes my breath away …
Experts do a lot of talking about baby milestones: what he should be doing at every new week and month. The day his belly button falls off; the first time he smiles, rolls over, sits up. But I think there were just as many new-mom milestones to mark, some that were joyous, others that were a disaster.
These are the moments I know I will never forget:
The first time I breast-fed. I was in the hospital and the nurses literally threw him on my boob. “Okay, here goes!” I told Cree, hoping he couldn’t sense how nervous his mommy was about nursing. I was worried I would be in too much pain because of my C-section, but he latched right on.
“Wow,” I said, “that was easy!”
The nurse nodded and pointed to my nipple. “You’re lucky,” she replied. It was the first time that having torpedo-shaped nipples came in handy. I was so impressed; I thought I had won the lotto! I had heard horror stories of friends who had to hire lactation consultants to get the baby to take. My son was a champ, and I had knockers made for nursing!
My milk production, however, was another thing. It took forever for my milk to come in—nearly three days after I delivered. I was so proud, I demonstrated for the entire family. “You wanna squeeze it?” I asked Tamera. “It’s so cool!”
“Eww! Gross!” my twin squealed. “Keep those away from me!”
When I breast-feed, does everything I eat or drink wind up in my milk? What should I avoid?
Almost every nursing mother wonders at some point if something she ate caused fussiness, gas, diarrhea, or a rash in her newborn. Foods that may cause problems for breast-fed babies include those that contain food additives and dyes, certain gas-producing foods (such as broccoli, cabbage, and beans), eggs, nuts, tomatoes, shellfish, chocolate, corn, strawberries, citrus fruits, onion, garlic, and some spices. Cow’s milk in the mother’s diet may cause colicky symptoms in some babies. To decide if a particular food upsets your baby, eliminate that single food from your diet for 4 to 7 days and see if the symptoms disappear. Discuss any dramatic changes to your diet with your doctor or a nutritionist to be sure you are getting adequate vitamins and minerals.
Almost every drug or medication makes its way into breast milk. Some medications appear to have no harmful effects on your baby, while others are most certainly unsafe. Every new mother should discuss with her doctor beforehand any medication (prescription or over-the-counter) she plans to take while nursing.
Caffeine passes into breast milk and may cause your baby to have an upset stomach and be irritable. Alcohol, including beer, readily enters breast milk in the same concentration as your blood alcohol level. Since no safe level of alcohol has been established for a breast-fed baby, it is wise to strictly limit your alcohol intake or—even better—not drink at all.
The first time I changed his diaper. My first time was in the hospital, under the watchful eye of a nurse—so I couldn’t screw it up. While some people are grossed out, I will tell you I love changing diapers. I get face-to-face with my little one and sing and talk to him while I’m cleaning him up. Disposable diapers make it pretty easy, unless you fail to secure the sticky tabs tight enough. I learned this the hard way. If you don’t fasten them well, then baby can spring a leak. One time, shortly after I had gotten Cree home, I was buttoning his onesie when I noticed he was making this face I had never seen before. His nose was wrinkled and his brow was furrowed: he looked like he was concentrating very hard! I picked him up to investigate. Suddenly, the sheets, my clothes, my shoes—everything was covered in poop. I didn’t know such a little baby could make such a monstrous poop (he must get that from his dad, not me!). Instead of freaking out, I couldn’t help laughing, because we were both such a mess.
The first time I got more than two hours of sleep in a row. The first time Cree slept three solid hours without a whimper, I bolted out of bed and ran to check him in his crib to make sure he was breathing! There he was, sleeping soundly. I was in shock. How did I earn this? At around two months, he was waking me up only once a night. I felt reborn; it’s amazing what a little extra sleep, sans interruption, can do for you. I could concentrate, walk straight, and even remember my name. My heart goes out to moms who don’t yet have this privilege (my advice: Get the baby on a schedule!). I am so, so grateful that my son is a good sleeper. He must have known how exhausted his mommy was all through the pregnancy and taken pity on me.
The first time I experienced a mommy meltdown. Cree had been home for about two weeks and I was bone-tired. I wasn’t getting enough sleep and my room felt like it was caving in on me.
“It’s because you stay in here all the time taking care of the baby,” Tamera told me, after I complained to her on the phone. “You haven’t left the house in fourteen days!”
Well, she was right. Except for the times I took him to the pediatrician, we were home. And for the record, it was more like sixteen days! It felt like I was in the movie Groundhog Day: Every morning, I would wake up, feed, change, and burp Cree. He’d doze off; I’d doze off, then the whole cycle would start all over again. I couldn’t believe what my life had become. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d showered! I felt overwhelmed, and even worse, looming over me was the fact that in six weeks I had to get my act together and get back to work.
I began pacing the floor: What was I going to do? How do other moms do this without becoming walking zombies? How do they make time for the baby and for themselves? I was happy when I got to brush my teeth. I looked in the mirror; OMG, what a mess! I felt frumpy, dumpy, overweight, and overstressed. I wanted to cry; I wanted to scream. But I also didn’t want to wake the baby …
My first call was to Dr. Kumetz, who assured me these feelings were all normal. What I was experiencing is known as “the baby blues.” She told me the transition to motherhood and your new routine can make you anxious and sad, and 80 percent of women experience this during the first few weeks after childbirth.
“You feel overwhelmed and exhausted—and it’s all so new to you,” my doc told me. “Give yourself some time to adjust. I promise you, they’ll go away.”
But I needed a little more than medical assurance—so I called the strongest mother I know: my mama.
“How did you do this with twin babies?” I sobbed into the phone. “I can’t handle one!”
“Aha … now you appreciate what I went through!” She chuckled.
“I’m serious,” I pleaded. “I can’t do this!”
“You can and you will. You’re a lot tougher than you think, Tia.”
Maybe it was the drill sergeant talking, but it did get through to me. I vowed to take things one day at a time and not freak out if my baby cried. It didn’t mean I was a bad mom; I was just a new mom, trying to figure out how to juggle. It took a few weeks, but I got into a groove and I felt so much better!
The first time we went out with the baby. It was like a field trip! I couldn’t wait to show him to the world—and frankly, I needed some fresh air myself. So Cory and I made plans with my dad and brother to drive to Hugo’s for lunch. We were taking Cree to his first restaurant! I was so excited. Just one small problem: I didn’t know it would take an extra two hours to leave the house! I had a ton of baby booty to pack with us: two bottles of breast milk (which I had to pump, taking at least thirty minutes), one bottle of formula (just in case he was still hungry), his car seat/carrier, a blankie, a diaper bag, changing pad, wipes, diaper cream, baby powder, a stack of Pampers, a change of clothes (in case he spit up), and his favorite stuffed giraffe. I stumbled out of the house, barely able to hoist the diaper bag into the trunk of the car.
“You packing for a trip to Europe … or lunch?” Cory teased.
“Well, you never know,” I insisted. “I just wanna be prepared!”
The first time my baby smiled. Oh, I know people say it’s just gas—but I knew better. After just a few days of being home with his mommy and daddy, Cree gave me an adorable, toothless grin. I cried my eyes out. I thought he was looking right into my soul. Did he know who I was? I have a son and I am a mother. I have a huge responsibility for the rest of my life, and I am so, so blessed! After that, all I wanted to do was make him laugh to show him off, so I made silly faces and noises, blew bubbles on his tummy, kissed his toes, anything to get a smiley response. Cory just shook his head: Mama’s gone bonkers, baby! And I don’t care what those baby books say about babies starting to speak by five or six months—my son is an early learner. I swear, he’s trying to talk to me already!
The first time we took a family portrait. Sure, I snapped hundreds of pictures from the moment he was born. But this was a formal portrait—our way of announcing him to the world. It was for Us Weekly, when he was just two months old, and it felt so amazing! Cree sat in my lap and posed like a pro. He made me so proud. Cory was there, too, and it felt amazing: This is our family. The three of us. We’re a unit now. I can’t wait to send out Christmas cards: Meet the Hardricts!
The first time my hubby and I went on a date night … post-baby. I was dying to spend some quality time with Cory, just us two. My mom was amazing—she came over every single weekend to help with the baby, and after a few weeks, we finally decided it was time to enjoy a little grown-up playdate. I was nervous about leaving Cree, although I knew he was in the best of hands. But every mama muscle in my body was crying out for him. And if that wasn’t bad enough, my boobs ached and reminded me it would soon be time to nurse.
I got cleaned up, put on a pretty dress, and we went to dinner and a movie—nothing fancy. It felt so nice to hold Cory’s hand, gaze into each other’s eyes, and talk. And you know what we talked about. The baby! Seriously, we spent most of our meal showing each other photos on our phones of him. It made us both laugh. We are such proud parents, we can’t help ourselves.
I did have to remind myself that every date night can’t be about Cree. The point of getting out with your partner is to show him some attention.
A lot of men feel neglected when the baby comes along; it’s a little like being the third wheel. Suddenly, all your attention and affection, which had been only for your man, is focused on this tiny little being. So you have to make an extra effort to include your guy. Involve him in the whole process, every step of the way. There is no baby task Cory won’t tackle, from spit-up, to poopy diapers, to two a.m. feedings. We are quite a team, and my mom is so impressed that I found myself a husband who wants to be a daddy 110 percent. I know that later on in life, no matter what happens, we’ll be able to handle the tough stuff together. From toddler to teen years (God help us!). And I made Cory a promise that, as much as I love our son, I will always remember he was there first!
I heard you have to be careful after you’ve delivered—you’re extra fertile and can get pregnant again really easily. True?
You’re not necessarily extra fertile right after delivery, but it is possible to get pregnant right away. Many couples are distracted by caring for a newborn, and had not been worried about contraception for at least the previous 9 months, so it’s not the first thing on their minds. Ready or not, however, ovulation can potentially occur as soon as 6 weeks after delivery! Breast-feeding decreases fertility but does not eliminate it completely. It’s also important to know that you will ovulate before your first period, so just because you are not bleeding monthly, that doesn’t mean you can’t get pregnant. It is therefore important to come up with a good contraceptive plan, even before delivery, so you are not “caught with your pants down.”
Help, I Want My Body Back!
I was in shock when, a month after delivering, I looked down at the saggy tire that was still around my middle. I see all these celebs with flat abs days after giving birth. Well, it didn’t happen to me! I was in an elevator, and a lady asked, “Ooh, when are you due?” I grimaced: “No, actually, I had the baby.” Ugh.
Women feel the pressure to lose the baby weight right away—and it’s even worse if you’re someone like me who is in the public eye. It’s like my fans and the media expected me to pop out a kid and pose in a bikini a week later. You gotta be kidding.
“You know they’re gonna want you back on the show in lingerie ASAP,” my cast mate Wendy reminded me.
“I know, I know,” I moaned. “This is so unfair!”
First of all, I spent the last part of my pregnancy with my butt glued to the bed. Translation: No exercise. Then I had a C-section and a miserable, painful recovery for six weeks. No exercise again. My trainer, Jeanette, assured me that I could and would get back in shape. She motivated me during my pregnancy to stay active, and I’m proud to say that, with her help, two months after I delivered, I had lost thirty-seven of my fifty-seven pregnancy pounds!
I know a lot of stars train like Serena Williams and starve themselves back to a size zero in no time. Not me. I like to eat too much. My thing is this: The time you spend working out and trying to lose the weight instantly is the time you could be bonding with your baby. The more time you spend in the gym is more time you’re spending away from your baby. So take your time. Don’t rush, and listen to your instincts. Take it one day at a time. Everything is always changing. And please don’t compare yourself to Victoria Beckham, Miranda Kerr, or even me. A healthy weight loss is four to five pounds a month. Thanks to food poisoning, a yeast allergy, and very long days on the set, I dropped from 177 pounds to 136 pounds in about three months. I recommend my diet and exercise routine but not the other complications! Just remember, this isn’t a race to get into your skinny jeans again. It’s a plan to stay healthy for your baby, who needs you. If you starve yourself, you’re not going to be able to nurse or care for your child.
I remember when I first started nursing at home, I was feeling very faint and weak. My nutritionist, Melissa, said, “Tia, every single time you pump or breast-feed, you have to have protein. Keep almonds next to you and boil some eggs and put them in the fridge.”
It wasn’t as though I was trying to starve myself; I was just too busy and tired to eat.
“You don’t want to wind up back in the hospital, dehydrated or malnourished,” she insisted. “Cree needs his mama!”
Thanks to Melissa, I am now focused on eating healthy and cutting down on carbs (bye-bye, sourdough bread!), so I have more strength and energy. Plus, I made it my business to squeeze in a workout whenever I could, even if it was just climbing up stairs instead of taking an elevator, or strapping Cree in a baby carrier and walking around the neighborhood. As time went on, the scale started to go down and I began to feel like my old self. So many of my fans were e-mailing me: “How did you do it?” It helped that I was swollen like a balloon and looked huge on Tia & Tamera. My “After” pics are svelte in comparison. But I assure you, it wasn’t like it just melted off. It took a lot of discipline, and support from my friends. The other day, I was out to dinner with Hosea for his birthday, and he actually slapped my hand as I reached into his plate for some of his dinner.
“Hey … drop it! You’re not pregnant anymore!” he warned me.
I grumped, but he was right. And I have definitely had to curb my love of cupcakes. It’s hard to reprogram your brain to think you’re eating for one again! But I figure the one thing I can control is what I put in my mouth.
And don’t believe moms who tell you that if you breast-feed, you’ll lose all your baby weight. I did not find that one to be true. The average mom will make about twenty-four to twenty-eight ounces of breast milk a day. It takes about five hundred calories to make that much milk. Some of those calories come from fat stored during the pregnancy or previously, and some come from the mother’s daily nutrition. So you have to eat right as well as move to really shed the weight.
Since I have the attention span of a flea and basically hate to work out on machines, I discovered Zumba. I love my class, and I really don’t think of it as exercise—it’s so much fun. It’s a form of Brazilian dance, so it’s very sexy! It helps me feel like the hot mama I am! I’m constantly shaking my booty and my hips, shimmying my shoulders. The music is red-hot Latin and it gets my blood bumping. You can find a class in your area, or order a DVD and boogie off the belly flab at home. If I can’t get to a class in Atlanta when filming The Game, I do my moves at home while Cree is napping. You can also check out “Love Zumba” on YouTube for videos that teach the moves by breaking them down at a slow tempo. Just remember that some Zumba workouts can be pretty intense; make sure you talk to your doctor before starting any home fitness routine.
No parent is perfect. I have to remind myself of this each and every day, because I want to do everything right for my baby and I beat myself up if I don’t. There’s a huge learning curve when you’re a first-time mom. I wish that I could figure things out faster (how do you fold this stroller?) and understand the language of babies better. Tamera and I were out for a walk a few weeks ago and every time we’d stop to catch our breath, Cree would start to wail.
“What’s wrong, little man?” I asked. As if he was gonna tell me at two months old. So we did a little experiment. I started walking again and he stopped crying. Then I stopped dead in my tracks and the bawling began. Took some more steps … no more tears.
“He wants us to keep moving. He’s checkin’ out the scenery!” I told my sis.
“How did you know that?” Tamera marveled.
I didn’t. I just used my momtuition and was patient with both my baby and myself.
That’s the big lesson here: You’re human. You can’t be expected to know everything off the bat. You’re gonna screw up (need I remind you of the poopy diaper explosion?). You’re going to feel guilty, anxious, and overwhelmed. It comes with the territory.
En route to Atlanta, I phoned our pediatrician, freaking out.
“I think I see a blister on the back of the baby’s throat!” I told her. “Oh my God! What is it? Is he sick?” This was all I needed. I was stressed out enough about having to move all our things—and Cree’s things—to Atlanta for months to shoot my show. And to top things off, Cory wasn’t coming with me! He got a great role in a movie with John Malkovich that was filming in Quebec. He felt awful that we’d be apart and that he couldn’t kiss his son good night, and I felt equally awful that though a nanny would help me during the day, I’d be without the partner I’d grown used to tag-teaming with on midnight feedings.
The pediatrician could hear the fear and desperation in my voice.
“Well, is he crying? Does he feel warm?” the doc asked. “Does he seem tired or cranky?”
I looked at Cree, who was beaming from ear to ear. “No, he seems fine.”
“Then he probably is fine,” she told me. “If he wasn’t, he’d let you know it.” Turns out it was some formula stuck back there. Who knew?
Confession time. If I was a neurotic and a control freak pre-pregnancy, I am ten times as bad now. But I’ve learned to prioritize. I used to be about checking all the items off my to-do list. Now I rank them by necessity and force myself to live with those decisions, even if they’re not neat and tidy and ideal. For example: What can I do with a free hour? Wash the dishes, run on the treadmill, or go to the pharmacy and pick up more formula. I weigh my options and (of course!) the baby wins out. Formula it is! I prioritize and find time later that day to squeeze in a quick fifteen minutes on the treadmill while watching the evening news. As for the dishes, well, they’re just gonna have to sit in the sink for a few more hours. No biggie. I don’t have to be Superwoman. I can set my limits and say no. I recently had to explain to my publicist, Jordyn, that I don’t move as fast as I used to.
“I meant to e-mail you back, but then Cree started crying and I had to feed him,” I explained. I also can’t do every interview or appearance Jordyn or my show would like me to do, especially not at night. From nine to five I will work like a dog. But after that, it’s family time. No cell phones, no e-mails, no distractions. Those are my rules. Things may not always be this way, but this is how it has to be while I figure out how to juggle being both a mom and a working actress. Thank God I have such great people around me who understand. I know not everyone is this lucky.
What I Learned from My Mom About Being a Mom
The one person who can understand this whole working-mom thing better than anyone is my mom. Because she and my dad were stationed overseas, she gave birth to me and Tamera in Germany, away from her whole family back home in Miami. None of the doctors knew English and they didn’t have her health records on file. My dad actually fainted during the delivery (big help!), and the only thing he remembers was the doctor saying “Scheisse!” because he was surprised to discover my mom was having twins.
My mother, Marlene, has been the person I’ve talked and cried to about going back to work. When Tamera and I were babies, my mom had to put us in day care, and it broke her heart; she knows what I’m feeling these days.
She made a lot of sacrifices for her kids. As we got older, she quit her job for us so we could be in show business, and dedicated fifteen years of her life to our careers. She took us to dance and acting classes and auditions and commercials and pageants … it was endless. Now I see how strong she was. She came from nothing. She lived with ten brothers and sisters in a tiny apartment. She’s a survivor, a fighter, and I am in awe of how she handled it all. I was raised with discipline, but I know that discipline is a form of love. She would tell us when we came home from school, “Do your homework and your chores … then you can go out and play.” She believed in us, and she now tells me, “Pay attention to your child as he grows up. See what he’s good at and what he gravitates toward, and nurture that passion.”
I couldn’t ask for a better role model in the mama department; mine is amazing in every way, and I have some pretty massive footsteps to follow in. She’s generous, kind, compassionate, strong, courageous, and loving beyond the bounds of this world. If I can be half as good a mama, and do it with such style and grace … Cree will be one lucky little boy.
Slowly and surely, I’m getting my groove back, and you will, too. It takes time. It takes patience. It takes strength, because people are going to assume you can just pick up where you left off. I used to think, “I want to have it all.” Now I just think, “I want to be together.” Or maybe, “I want to be sane!”
As Cree gets bigger (thirteen pounds at two months … he’s huge!) and older, it’ll become a lot easier, because he won’t need the constant attention. One day there won’t be bottles to fill or diapers to change. If I told you I was looking forward to that, I’d be lying. I love this mommy-and-me time; I love loving my baby and holding him in my arms. I love that my little munchkin monopolizes my life! The time goes by so fast; don’t rush it. Savor every second. This was something a lot of my friends told me when I got pregnant, and I can tell you, without any doubt, it’s absolutely true. They’re babies for only the blink of an eye. This is what you’ve worked so hard for. You’ve carried your child for nine months; you’ve delivered him or her into this big world. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Count your blessings each and every day—you’re this baby’s one and only mama. And I’ll tell you something else: I want to have more. I can’t wait to get pregnant again and have another baby! Remember when Cory was begging for baby number one? Now he thinks I need my head examined.
“Tia, after all you put me through, can you at least give me a little time?”
But I just can’t help it: How often do you get to be part of a miracle? And now that I’ve been through it, I know a little bit more of what to expect, and I know how wonderful the end result is. I’ve become quite the pregnancy and baby expert among my newly preggers pals, and there are a lot of them. My stylist, Alexis, and two of the ladies in The Game’s wardrobe department are expecting. I think I either inspired them, or there’s something in the water (probably both!). And you should see the e-mails and Facebook queries I am getting: everyone wants my new-mama insight. I am so excited to give it, and to talk to any mom I meet. Seriously, I stop women with strollers in Starbucks and start conversations. I’m so glad to be a part of this sisterhood and I’m incredibly curious!
Beyond the technical stuff—such as how many times your baby will poop a day (for the record, as many as eight to ten times!)—women are always asking me if motherhood will change them. Well, I am certainly not the same person I was pre-Cree. I’m seeing through my son’s eyes, and everything is so exciting, big, and beautiful. Tamera teases me that I’ve gone all warm and fuzzy and sentimental (and who’s the one who put her dog in the wedding party?). Last year, when I was working in Atlanta on The Game, I never once left my hotel room. I swear, all I did was go to work and come home to sleep. But now that I have Cree, I’m going everywhere, taking him to the botanical gardens, the aquarium, out to restaurants. He’s my date! I never used to get excited at the prospect of seeing a giant whale hanging from the ceiling, but now I can’t wait to show it to my baby boy. I want to see his little eyes get round as saucers as he contemplates, “What is that?”
Am I a changed person? Totally. Changed for good. And trust me, all the headaches and heartburn you suffered … you kind of forget about it (unless, like me, you write it all down!). No one can tell you what this feels like. You can’t put it into words. You can’t know until you’re a mom. But I can tell you this: Having a child is the greatest thing I have ever done in my life.
Oh, baby, it’s been quite an adventure, and so worth it.