From Airplanes to Babies

“Did I miss my husband? YES! But I knew he’d be ok. That WE’D be ok! We were grown adults who had spent the majority of the past 30 years sleeping alone, and she never had.”

I went back and forth on what to write for this first post, and finally decided to go back to the beginning.

One of the most common questions I get is, “What made you leave your career in aerospace to start teaching holistic sleep solutions and breastfeeding education?”

And the truth is—it wasn’t that big of a surprise to me, or anyone who really knew me. Since I was 12, I’ve always been drawn to working with teachers, kids, students, and parents. When my friends were out at the movies on a Friday night, I was across the street babysitting the neighbor boys. I even skipped my senior class trip to Europe just so I could volunteer in my sixth-grade teacher’s classroom.

If I could go back and hit “redo” on my college major, I would’ve declared Early Childhood Education, hands down. But when you’re half Persian, your major options are pretty limited to: doctor, lawyer, or engineer. My sisters and I? We’re all three.

ENTER: Civil Engineering at Washington State University (Go Cougs!)

Graduation came and went—right into the 2009 recession. Job offers were few and far between, with many postings being pulled before I could even interview. I spent a year working at a local hospital before finally landing a role at one of the largest aerospace companies in the world.

The projects I led, the tests I conducted, the incredible people I met… it was a pinch-me moment. I can confidently say I was part of something that very few people in the world ever get to experience. I did that—and I’ll never forget it.

Do I regret it? Not at all.

The best thing that came out of that time was meeting my soulmate. In a conference room. Two years into my career. The moment I saw him, I knew. I know that sounds wild, but I literally pictured the ring on my finger on the drive home. Serendipity at its finest. I truly believe I was meant to choose engineering—just so we could meet.

Three years later, we were married at a winery just a few miles from our home. And the highlight of the day? An epic 3-hour dance competition party between the Persians and the Panamanians. Iconic.

After a few years of traveling, settling into our home, and moving up in our careers, we decided it was time to start a family. One of the reasons I fell in love with my husband was how deeply he loved the people in his life. If he lets you in, you’re in for life. I just knew he’d be the best papa in the world. And for me? I had dreamed of becoming a mom since the moment I became a big sister.

It took us about a year to conceive, and in November of 2017, our first daughter was born. Her birth story deserves its own post, but let’s just say—she came FAST. If not for the wide-open roads at 2 a.m., she might’ve been born in the car.

Maybe it was the unmedicated whirlwind birth, but I didn’t feel that instant wave of love everyone talks about. I didn’t cry happy tears or feel that magical “bond” right away. Instead, I was in complete shock. I felt out of my body. I was also unknowingly dealing with postpartum hemorrhaging, intense pain from tearing, breastfeeding struggles, and a newborn who refused to sleep anywhere but in my arms.

When I say we tried everything to get her to sleep in her bassinet... I mean everything. Warm towel from the dryer, white noise, breastmilk on the sheets, dark room, vacuum running, bouncing on an exercise ball—nothing worked. In total desperation (and fear of bedsharing), my husband and I took turns sleeping in the rocking chair with her, while the other laid on the floor and watched. Can you even imagine?!

But first things first—we had to figure out breastfeeding.

Several lactation appointments later, we learned she’d lost 8% of her birth weight. The advice? “Figure it out” or give her formula.

Cue the mama rage.

How was I this unprepared? I had taken every breastfeeding class, read all the books, and had a great latch at discharge. But once we got home, I felt completely lost. Everyone made it seem like breastfeeding would just… happen. And it didn’t. At all.

I wasn’t against formula—I would never let my baby go hungry. But I was determined to make breastfeeding work. I had promised myself (and her) that I would. It was free, it was the best option for us, and honestly, it felt like a challenge I needed to win.

Spoiler alert: we breastfed for 2 years and 2 weeks.

Sleep, on the other hand… not as easy to figure out. My husband and I weren’t exactly on the same page. We both agreed the rocking chair wasn’t safe, but he wanted to stick with the fancy beds we were gifted. Meanwhile, I had a baby who just wanted me. And my gut was screaming: give her what she needs.

When I told my parents she wouldn’t sleep unless she was with me, they said, “Just bring her in bed—that’s what we did.” And maybe they were right.

Back in 2017, cosleeping was practically taboo. No one was talking about Safe Sleep 7. Sleep training was the gold standard. If you weren’t doing that, you were cosleeping in secret, or you just happened to have a magical baby who slept on their own.

With no guidance from our pediatrician, I decided to trust my instincts. I was an engineer, now a mom—I could figure this out.

I took our mattress off the bed frame, put it in the middle of the room, pushed the fluffy bedding away, and sent my husband to the guest room. I had no clue what I was doing, but it felt safer. And guess what? We all slept. Was it perfect? Nope. Did I miss my husband? Absolutely. But we were fine—she needed us.

As she got older, people constantly asked about sleep. I dreaded it. Because the truth? Only our family knew we were cosleeping. And that $800 Restoration Hardware crib? Yep. Giant laundry basket. Worst. Investment. Ever.

We kept asking our pediatrician for sleep advice besides sleep training, and there never was any. We were desperate. My commute was 3 hours round trip. But even then, we just knew sleep training wasn’t the answer. It would’ve traumatized her. She wouldn’t “self-soothe”—she would’ve cried until she vomited. It was a hard no.

Still, cosleeping wasn’t a magic fix. We dealt with 40-minute naps, multiple night wakings, 2 a.m. dance parties, and constant nursing. I was obsessed with wake windows and schedules. We barely left the house, spent hours trying to force bedtime, and dreaded every sunset.

But after her first birthday, I surrendered. She wasn’t going to follow the Pinterest-worthy toddler nap charts. She was different. We were different.

She was born alert, sensitive to light and sound, never followed a pattern, and loved movement. At just hours old, she locked eyes with me. At two days, she turned to look at the dog barking. Once we realized she was a highly sensitive child, everything made sense. And when we accepted that, we finally started enjoying parenthood.

Years later, we got pregnant with our rainbow baby—another girl! The yin to her sister’s yang. She was calm, happy, a great sleeper, strong-willed, and breastfed like a champ. A unicorn baby. One you could’ve sleep trained—if you wanted to.

But we still chose to cosleep. Why? Well, partly because we sold that expensive crib during the pandemic (score!). But mostly because we loved it. There’s nothing sweeter than waking up to chubby hands on your face saying, “Hi, Mama!”

This postpartum experience was a dream. Breastfeeding was easy, recovery was smooth, we felt confident, and the baby slept. Everyone deserves to experience that.

Of course, not every journey will be perfect. But we can do better at preparing families for the challenges.

One night while I was up feeding, I found myself texting my sisters and friends—all new moms, all overwhelmed. And I realized… it wasn’t just me. We were all unprepared.

That moment sparked everything. I started hosting lunch-and-learns for new moms at work, helping them navigate motherhood. It was beautiful, powerful… and also incredibly disappointing. How could we be this unsupported?

That’s when I knew—I had to do more. This was my new purpose. Helping other moms filled every little void I didn’t even know I had. And if just sharing my story could help someone… imagine what I could do with more training, more knowledge, and more experience.

And so, Because of Bebé was born.