Her Story: OOMA Founder, Paloma Aelyon
OOMA’s Her Story Series examines the different ways women experience the journey to and through motherhood.
In this interview, we chat with our founder, Paloma, who was inspired to create OOMA after a challenging pregnancy far from her support system. Join us as we discuss what pregnancy and postpartum was like for her, as well as what drove the creation of OOMA.
OOMA: Did you know that you wanted to be a mother? What was your relationship to motherhood before becoming one yourself?
Paloma: I don’t think I always knew that I wanted to be a mother, although people who know me would say that I was meant for it because I loved kids from an early age. This love started with my younger brother, Jonah, who I wanted to carry around with me everywhere (much to his chagrin) and extended to my cousins, as well as kids that I babysat in high school and college.
So, while I knew that I was good with children and would likely make for a caring mother figure, I wasn’t sure that I wanted kids myself. I remember walking on the beach with an ex-boyfriend and saying something along the lines of, “Do you really want to bring children into this world?” shortly after reading a terrifying article about climate change.
So no, having children was not a given for me. That being said, something that probably helped on my path to motherhood was, and is, that I adore my mother. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned that I’m truly lucky to be able to say that. She modeled what unconditional love looks like. She modeled a motherhood that was committed, curious, fun, attuned, affectionate, and joyful. To this day, I love my relationship with her, and there's no doubt that her mothering guides me in my relationship with my son.
“She modeled what unconditional love looks like. She modeled a motherhood that was committed, curious, fun, attuned, affectionate, and joyful. To this day, I love my relationship with her, and there’s no doubt that her mothering guides me in my relationship with my son.”
O: Did you make a conscious decision to have children, or was it less intentional? What was that like for you?
P: My fiancé and I talked pretty extensively about having children. I was excited at the thought of having kids with him. I knew in my bones that he would be a natural, loving father (I was right!). But, the truth is I wouldn’t have had as much urgency to become a mother if it hadn’t been for our age difference. He’s older than me and was feeling ready to have a child, which I understood and respected, even though it wasn’t aligned with the timing I had in mind. There was still a lot I wanted to do and develop within myself before becoming a mom.
So, we compromised and agreed we’d likely start trying a year or so after having moved to our new home (far away from our old one), and after our wedding. But as John Lennon said, ‘Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans’ and that’s exactly what happened to us in the truest sense of the word ‘life’. In December of 2021 we moved to a new city and in February of 2022 (2 months later) my breasts felt extra tender. I took three pregnancy tests and each one told me that I was going to become a mother. Surreal!
O: What was pregnancy like for you? The journey to and through it?
P: Oh man. Anyone who knows me has heard my pregnancy story one too many times — but I guess that makes sense, because it’s ultimately why I founded OOMA.
Pregnancy knocked me off my feet starting at around 7 weeks. At 4 weeks, after discovering that I was pregnant, I remember telling my fiancé that I was hoping to be a fit, healthy, and vibrant pregnant woman. I tend to believe in the power of manifestation, so maybe I should have shared my vision louder because it did not come to fruition! I can now say it without shame: although I love what pregnancy brought me, and although I never took for granted that I was able to get and stay pregnant, I really did not enjoy pregnancy itself.
“I can now say it without shame: although I love what pregnancy brought me, and although I never took for granted that I was able to get and stay pregnant, I really did not enjoy pregnancy itself.”
The first and most obvious reason was because I had debilitating morning sickness, also known as hyperemisis gravidarum — intense nausea and daily vomiting that took me away from my work, my close relationships, my hobbies, good, healthy food, and myself. I spent many days in bed, depleted and increasingly depressed.
Another major reason was that I had just moved to a new city, with almost no local community, far from my support system of family, friends, and close acquaintances. This all coincided with a time in my life when I truly needed help — physically, mentally, and emotionally — and the only person I could really rely on locally was my fiancé. Aside from the fact that one person can’t be or do everything for you (and my fiancé did a lot), it took him awhile to empathize with what I was experiencing. Feeling slightly misunderstood made me feel really alone. And probably also angry at times.
And lastly, although I couldn’t fully grasp it then, I was grieving the life and the self that I was parting ways with — a life of greater independence, couplehood without kids, more free time, energy, and other priorities. But, as The Paper Kites sing, “We will hate what we lost and love what we found.” I remind myself often that we humans are so layered and nuanced. Grief and joy can ride together if we let them.
“Grief and joy can ride together if we let them.”
O: How about childbirth? What was that like for you?
I’ll try to share an abbreviated version of my birth story. I was induced at the hospital at 41 weeks and 3 days. Shortly after the induction started, a nurse nonchalantly mentioned that the hospital was out of epidurals, even though I had paid for and reserved mine ahead of time. I laughed, thinking it was a joke. When I realized they were serious, I proceeded to spend the night researching my options, as I had always been terrified of natural childbirth and was highly reliant on medication to manage the pain.
After deciding to move forward with a C-section, my doctor came into our hospital room in the middle of the night with a box in hand. He had found an epidural in the hospital basement. My fiancé was relieved. I was pretty weirded out by it. But, we were back on track for a vaginal delivery!
The following morning, I let multiple doctors and nurses know that I wanted to start the epidural as soon as possible, around 3-4cm, which they agreed to. Unfortunately, when the time came, the anesthesiologist on call was busy with other patients. A promise of 30 minutes turned into 4 hours, at which point I was almost 8cm dilated, pushing, and making primal sounds I had no idea were possible. Multiple doctors convened, decided it was safe to still administer the epidural, sent my fiancé and doula out into the hallway, and held my squirming body down as the anesthesiologist got to work.
Fast forward 2 more centimeters and a lot less pain, I continued to witness what my body was capable of and gave birth to one of the big loves of my life: my son. My fiancé and doula showed up for me in beautiful, unwavering ways that I will never forget. I experienced firsthand how incredibly, wildly powerful the female body is. And I left the experience with an even stronger belief that women deserve much better, more communicative, empathy-driven care, in and outside of medical settings.
“And I left the experience with an even stronger belief that women deserve much better, more communicative, empathy-driven care, in and outside of medical settings.”
O: How would you describe your experience postpartum? The first few months? The first year, and beyond?
P: In contrast to pregnancy, I felt relieved and more myself postpartum. I’m so grateful it turned out that way. Having felt pretty ill and depleted during my pregnancy, I was concerned that I wouldn’t have anything left to give my son once he was born, but somehow I was reinvigorated. I’m a pretty visual, sensory person who feels most connected to people, places, and things when in their physical presence. When I can see, touch, hear, smell…Maybe that played a role in feeling more connected to my son once he was born. I also think we’re evolutionarily and biologically wired to reach deep into our energy stores for our children. It’s pretty amazing.
There’s so much more to say about the postpartum experience — I’ll probably write about it someday — but the only other major reflection I’ll mention was that having a child definitely rocked my relationship with my fiancé. There were moments where I felt like it gradually, yet violently broke us, until I was able to see that it broke us in a way that facilitated building a healthier, more communicative, and more loving relationship than what we had before.
“There were moments where I felt like it gradually, yet violently broke us, until I was able to see that it broke us in a way that facilitated building a healthier, more communicative, and more loving relationship than what we had before.”
O: What have you learned about yourself through this journey? What have you gained, and maybe what have you lost, if anything?
P: One of the major things I learned and am still learning is to trust myself — my mind, my gut, my body. There were several instances during my pregnancy where I instinctively felt something was right or wrong for me (anything from medical decisions to travel plans), but let another person’s opinion, desire, or logic steer the way. Our doctors, our families, our partners, our friends — most have the best intentions, but never more in my life have I realized how important it is to listen to oneself. I intend to tap into this learning if and when we have another child, and in other areas of my life outside of motherhood as well. I want to be an open-minded person, and I also want to be grounded in a strong sense of self and instinct. Sometimes, mama does know best.
“Our doctors, our families, our partners, our friends — most have the best intentions, but never more in my life have I realized how important it is to listen to oneself.”
Another personal takeaway is that I don’t believe we’re meant to raise children on our own. What I mean by this is that whether we’re parenting as a couple or as an individual, there are so many reasons why it makes sense to raise children in community — reasons ranging from the toll the responsibility takes on parents to the advantages of regularly exposing children to other adults who care deeply for them. I recently listened to this podcast episode by Ezra Klein that got me thinking more about the role family and friends can play in our son’s life, and have also re-stumbled on many articles about the mutually nourishing grandparent-grandchild relationship. My parents were of a generation that was determined to do it themselves. I don’t know all of the answers yet, but I want something different for my children, for my family, and for myself as a mother.
O: Did your community (friends, family, others) show up for you in this chapter of your life? What did they do or express that felt good to you? What could they have done differently?
P: I felt especially supported and understood by women who had been through having a child themselves, who were thinking of having one, or who were really close to other women who had. There was a sense of solidarity, empathy, and curiosity there that was incredibly nourishing, and that’s the main inspiration behind the name, OOMA — which I named after my grandmother, Uma. The name is a reflection of that generous, intergenerational TLC I received during this season of my life.
For me, what felt particularly good was when these women and others would get curious about my experience, rather than projecting their own onto me. Text messages, calls, and coffee or tea dates where someone would say something as simple as, “How are you doing? How are you feeling?” was just what the doctor ordered. These sincere questions invited me into a safe and cathartic space to express myself when I needed to most. I’m still grateful to those people.
Also, one thing that surprised me was how meaningful receiving something in the mail was, especially because I was far from my support system and was often too nauseous to last more than 5 minutes on the phone or on Facetime. Gift giving and receiving was never a big love language of mine, but those acts of thoughtfulness left a mark. Once I had my son, I wanted to pay it forward and started searching the internet for high quality, beautifully designed, mother-centric gifts to send pregnant and postpartum women in my life, and was disappointed by the quality of product I found. OOMA is ultimately what I was looking for.
“Once I had my son, I wanted to pay it forward and started searching the internet for high quality, beautifully designed, mother-centric gifts to send pregnant and postpartum women in my life, and was disappointed by the quality of product I found. OOMA is ultimately what I was looking for. ”
O: What is something important you feel you’ve learned from your mother that you’d like to pass on?
P: Since I was young, my mom has always upheld the idea that we never know what someone else is going through — good, bad, everything in between — regardless of how they appear or behave. This is a philosophy I try my hardest to carry with me in life, and it echoes what I mentioned above. Many women get pregnant. Many women go through childbirth, through postpartum, through miscarriage, infertility, and the entire spectrum of the journey to and through motherhood. Of course, our experiences overlap, and I think it’s important not to assume we understand what any individual woman is going through. Let’s get curious instead. Make room for her story, her perspective, her spectrum of emotions. I can almost certainly guarantee that our care and curiosity will mean the world to her.
“Of course, our experiences overlap, and I think it’s important not to assume we understand what any individual woman is going through. Let’s get curious instead. Make room for her story, her perspective, her spectrum of emotions. I can almost certainly guarantee that our care and curiosity will mean the world to her.”
Thanks for reading OOMA’s Her Story Series! If you’re interested in more stories like Paloma’s, follow us on Instagram and sign up for our newsletter at the bottom of this page.