For your TL;DR needs, have a depiction of the overall sentiment of this post.

Source: Unsplash

Let me just start by saying that this isn't me asking for advice.

Let me tack on another disclaimer to the above disclaimer that this isn't me being rude. I hear your well wishes, your prayers, your assertions that God's will be done. And I'm not upset when I hear them; they are very appreciated.

Please understand this from my point of view.

Some days, I'm okay and happy. Even though I miss my family, my home, like crazy each and every day, we're doing good. Seriously—we both have good jobs, we have food in our pantry, a roof over our heads, a warm bed to sleep in, two pups to cuddle, etc, etc.

Some days, most days, I ache.

It seems so easy for everyone else. Yet the countless forums and subreddits I stalk tell me otherwise. I should count my lucky stars I don't have a need for hormone therapy or IUI or IVF treatments. Yet.

And then I always find myself stuck in the middle, no matter what.

No surprise/accident baby. ("At least you get to plan ahead.")

No decade-long struggle. ("It could be worse.")

I know it could be worse because the worst has already happened. I've always had the sneaking suspicion that bringing a child into the world was not going to be easy. And it makes me sad-laugh because I'm constantly telling my husband that his negativity exhausts me.

"You know it really drains me sometimes hearing you complain so much about every little thing," I'll tell him. And yet this is how I've gotten about this whole "trying" thing.

This is what loss has done to me. I can't be hopeful. I can't be calm. I can't relax. I can't "just stop trying", that's the exact opposite of how this works.

I'm hungry to once again feel the joy that stupid little blue line brought me. I'm longing to love our little someone with everything I am. I know it's selfish of me to want and want and want and want and want and want when so many people have less. But I'm still allowed to be sad.

"If you have sex, you'll get pregnant," that's what we're told. Who knew making a baby would be this hard?

Will I ever see you again?

Anyway, I just needed to get this off my chest. It gets lonely all the way over here, especially with matters such as this.

Keep reading below for a step-by-step guide on how I made each piece, complete with pictures r/restofthef-ingowl would be proud of.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Maybe Moana is an overrated costume choice by now, but look at my goddaughter Sophia in the eyes and TELL HER she doesn't make a perfect Moana!


The hair, the brownness, the hair, the fearlessness, the HAIR.. She's perfect!


And because her mommy gave her life, I convinced her to go dressed as Te Fiti, goddess with the power to create life itself<3


When we talked about what she should wear, I decided that any old flower crown just wouldn't cut it for a Halloween party at the most magical place on earth. So I made her Te Fiti-themed ears just for the occasion!


So when I surprised Amber with the ears on FaceTime, Sophia's response was (and I quote):

"Whaaaat aboooout myyyyyyyyyyyyyy crooowwwnnn????????"

And well that just broke my heart so I made a special Moana-style flower crown just for her!

As for me, I really wanted to go as Tamatoa for my love of his song "Shiny" and also Jemaine Clement in general. I just didn't want to make it too complicated, especially considering we'd be running around a theme park with a 3-year-old.

So I ordered this shirt from Etsy, glued his face onto a baseball cap (inspired by this pin), and crafted a glitzy "shell"*** that the crab himself would surely add to his dazzling dungeon.


Since this post is already gearing up to be monstrous enough for Lalotai, I'll post a video of our night at MNSSHP separately. This was Sophia's first time EVER at Disney World, so I wanted to make sure I captured the day as perfectly as I'd captured her mommy's first visit!

I really struggled to find an easy guide to make each of these things online, so I wanted to share how I personally made them, because I doubt Moana is going to be unpopular anytime soon :)

Moana's flower crown

I'll start with the easiest one.

I eyeballed this picture when I perused Google for a kid version of Moana's lovely flower crown. Honestly, Sophia wasn't a huge fan of wearing this while we were at the park. Don't get me wrong—it held up completely fine and she adored it, she just got annoyed with it being on her head, so this would probably work better for older kids.

Supplies:

• green ribbon
• green felt
• pink felt
• hot pink pom poms
• scissors
• your choice of adhesive (I used hot glue)

I wasn't confident with my freehand leaf and flower-drawing skills, and I wanted them to be as uniform as possible, so I traced the shapes onto paper. Then I cut those shapes out and traced the outline onto the felt using a marker. Don't worry about cutting the marker outline completely off-- you can just glue that side facing down!


I'm sure there was a more efficient way to do this, but once I traced the shape onto the felt, I folded the felt sheet in half to cut two shapes out at once. Use whatever method you want to cut out the green leaves and the pink flowers.

I ended up using 30 leaves and eight flowers. Depending on the size of whoever's head this is going on, you may need less or more.

Measure the circumference of said person's noggin and add 10 inches to that length. This is so that there's enough extra ribbon left to tie into a knot. For example, Sophia's head measured 20.5 inches so I rounded up and cut 31 inches of ribbon.

Now it's time to glue the shapes onto the ribbon. Put a dot of your favorite glue on the bottom of a leaf shape, measure the ribbon's halfway point, and press the leaf onto the dead center of the ribbon.


The order I glued the leaves was skinny side up, then the next one on top of it, slightly overlapping with the skinny side down. You can choose how far apart you want them, but this is how I did it. (Looking at pictures probably makes more sense than me describing it...)


I layered two flower shapes on top of each other to create some dimension, leaving four flowers visible on the finished headband. Once those were glued together, I glued them as evenly spaced as I could on top of the finished leaves.


Lastly, glue a hot pink pom pom onto the center of each flower. I wish I would have gotten larger pom poms, but the pack these came in was only 99 cents at Michaels, and I didn't want to buy more than I needed for larger pom poms... Besides, I think they look pretty cute!

Tamatoa's shiny shell

I almost gave up on this project to order a gold sequin backpack online (which would have been perfect), but I just couldn't find an affordable one.  This video inspired me that the project was simple enough not to abandon.

Supplies:

• cardboard
• twine
• foil
• gold metallic finish spray paint
• decorative sea shells
• old jewelry, beads, etc.
• random shiny things
• glitter spray
• adhesive of your choice (use something stronger than hot glue!)

Te Fiti-inspired ears

On July 21, we became a little family of four!

In case we're not friends on Facebook, this little lady is Molly Louise. We adopted her from the Pet Alliance of Greater Orlando.

It's funny because I initially began volunteering there in an attempt to quell my puppy fever. I figured that playing with dogs without the responsibility of owning them would satisfy my need to add another dog to our family.

But alas, this only fanned the flame.

You see, here in Orange County, there's PAGO and right across the street is Orange County Animal Services. PAGO is privately-owned and only takes owner surrenders, whereas OCAS has to take any and all animals since they're a government facility.

So it became a habit of mine to browse both shelters' adoptable pets online on a daily basis. There were so many potential doggies we both wanted to adopt, but the timing was always off.

At one point, we decided that it would be best if we just became foster parents for a while. That way, we'd still be helping an animal even though we wouldn't get to keep it. We were actually planning on attending a puppy foster orientation, but the apartment tour we were on ran longer than we expected. So I asked Anthony if he wanted to go to the shelters anyway to check out the dogs and he shrugged, sure.

We ended up meeting with two dogs at PAGO that we had seen online. I really wanted to meet with a dog named Ariel because she was right at the top of the alphabetical list every time I opened the adoptable dogs page for the past month. I had grown fond of that face and wanted to see how she was in person. She was indeed just as cute, but the most precious part came when we got to meet her.

I never wanted to make a decision about adopting a dog without my husband. I wanted to fall in love with the dog together and decide together. So when Ariel excitedly bounded into the room, she instantly jumped into Anthony's arms and snuggled. She was so sweet and cute and she completely stole our hearts.

We were told that she was heartworm positive, but PAGO sponsors the treatment and she would have to be on strict rest until treatment is over. This is absolutely no problem considering we're pretty sedentary people. Heck, Minnie plops all day long.

So we tried to set up a meet-and-greet between Ariel and Minnie, but we were told they don't do them on the weekends, so we said we were just going to go home and ruminate.

The next morning, the very first thing Anthony said upon waking up was that he was thinking about Ariel. I was like, "Okay that's it, we're going to get her." And that's exactly what we did.

We burst through the door and announced that we were there to adopt Ariel. And so they scheduled her heartworm treatment for the next few months, administered some last-minute vaccines, and then she was ours.

Every day for the next two weeks, I became severely overwhelmed.

I was convinced that this was the worst decision we ever made. We should have taken more time to think about it. We don't have time to take care of two dogs. We don't have room in our apartment for two dogs. We can't afford more vet bills. When we move to a new apartment or house, we can't apply to places with breed restrictions, seriously limiting our options.

The worries kept piling on and on, and I cried nearly every day. I felt that someone else could take better care of her. I truly felt that we were extremely rash in our decision and I desperately wanted to give her back to PAGO. But my poor husband, always dealing with my dramatic tendencies, refused.

He made me feel incredibly guilty, reminding me that I begged him to adopt her, and asking me if I really just wanted to throw her away. Of course I didn't, I said. But I really thought that we just weren't the right parents for her.

I only calmed down when I realized that we could have her trained. Sure, it's going to take time and money, but the results will be worth it.

And then she snapped at someone and their dog.

It didn't worry me at first because it was really the other dog's fault. The dog saw Molly in the distance and really wanted to come meet her, so the owner indulged and walked toward us. As the two approached each other, the dog jolted to the side at the last second and Molly snarled and gave such an ugly bark. I was mortified, convinced she would report my dog's aggressive behavior to management.

Then she growled and snarled at her first vet appointment. The attendant checking us in stuck her hand out to let Molly sniff, and she did, but she decided that she didn't like her and began to growl. And she barked in the same nasty way she barked at the dog who teased her. When we were moved to the exam room, the vet and an attendant entered the room, already aware of the nervousness. Molly was very afraid and didn't like these two new strangers, so she snarled and barked again. This time, she snapped in our direction when she sensed Anthony's hand near her, but once she realized it was him, she licked his hand. We muzzled her for the exam, which she did just fine with. She let them touch her, but she looked seriously downtrodden with her head pressed down to the ground like she'd just been shamed.

Those feelings rushed over me again. She's aggressive. What are we going to do if she bites someone? What if she reacts that way when she meets our family? That is completely unacceptable. Especially because my parents despise pit bulls, which is probably part of her genetic makeup.

But what I really needed to do was take time to think through the situation. Eventually I realized that every problem I was having could be solved in some way.

So I sought out local dog trainers and we found Dog Training by Vanessa, who was offering a free session for adopted shelter dogs. What convinced us that this was the right path was that Molly never once growled at her, and was practically in her lap within five minutes of interacting with her. Plus, Vanessa explained to us that Molly isn't aggressive-- she's scared. Basically, Molly knows that growling at something she doesn't like makes it go away, so she continues to do it. So Vanessa is teaching us to teach her that it's not necessary to be scared and to change the way she sees strange things.

So now every Saturday afternoon, Molly has a lesson with Vanessa, and we have homework of sorts to work on with her during the week. Now I am so confident that we are doing the right thing. After the first lesson, I truly started thinking of Molly as my dog.

Continuing the trend of problem-solving, we have a few short- and long-term goals, with the most important being to move to a larger apartment or, ideally, a house with an enclosed yard for Molly to run around in (once her treatment's over). We feel that having extra space would make everything so much better. We wouldn't feel so cramped and stuck, and everyone has room to breathe. And we can finally focus on being a happy little family of four :)

Of course, I'm anticipating new challenges with change. But I'm trying really hard to take each challenge day-by-day. And I have to remind myself that we're doing the best we can to give Molly a better life.

2/5/2016

On Wednesday, January 20th, 2016 at around 6:15 in the morning, I found out that I was pregnant.

Taken Jan. 21

Was that REALLY a positive pregnancy test I had just rested my tired eyes on? Was that vertical blue line actually there?? My heart leapt out of my body, my knees gave and I sank to the ground, and I erupted into the happiest tears I have ever cried. Three years ago, I was worried that my body was just so messed up that I would be cursed with infertility for the rest of my childbearing years, and I would never get to look into the eyes of my beloved children. That affirming pee-stick on my bathroom sink was telling me that in less than a year, I would be a mother. I would finally be who I know in my heart I was always meant to be. In those few seconds, I thought of the rest of my pregnancy, giving birth, cradling someone that looks like me and the love of my life in my arms and never ever letting go.

How did Anthony react? Well, let me just say that when I imagined telling my beloved that he would be a father, I had all these cute scenarios planned. But in the heat of the moment, I weepily asked him not to be scared before I presented him with the positive test. He pulled me in as I began to cry again, and said, "We're going to be okay." I knew he was scared anyway. But he also knew what this meant for me and for us, so I'm glad that he tried to show me that he was happy. This is one of the endless reasons I love him.

So, I resolved to tell my parents as soon as possible. I knew that they wouldn't be too upset and I wanted to have them for support. Telling his parents would have to wait because we thought they would be a little upset before they could be happy, so we decided to wait until we got pictures from our first ultrasound. Either way it would be a long time before we saw them next. My estimated due date would be September 23, which is my mom's birthday and the day after my future mother-in-law's birthday. I whipped up a cute little design on the computer and made this adorable onesie. I'd present my parents with this and the pregnancy test, and his parents would get the onesie with ultrasound pictures.

Grandma's surprise

I went over to my parents' house that weekend. Before I got there, I wanted to pick up a few more pregnancy tests to see if the line would get darker. I'm a very anxious person and I figured that if they got darker, my mind would be put at ease. So (TMI warning) I went to the restroom before I picked up the tests, and when I wiped, there was a good amount of bright red blood. I instantly panicked. Now, I had been spotting brown since the day before I found out, which I figured was normal, but still. I called my best friend (who bled plenty of times when she was pregnant only to give birth to a beautiful, healthy girl) for reassurance. She did her best to calm me down and told me that it was probably just my body getting rid of the last of my old blood.

The whole day, I was confident and excited to tell my parents. When my dad answered the door? Not so much. My heart raced as I asked my mom to join my dad in the study. I shakily handed her a small, purple gift bag and told her, "Anthony and I got you an early birthday present."
My mom replied, "Birthday?????"
My dad added, "Why so early??"
I asked her to open the larger bundle in the bag. She unwrapped it to reveal the little onesie, and as she read it, she started squealing and crying and she showed my dad what it said.
"You're gonna be a grandma?" he laughed as he stood to hug me. My mom opened the smaller bundle, which had the test in it, so she continued to squeal and they both huddled around me while I cried. I shared my concerns about the bleeding with them and they, of course, told me not to stress. This was easier said than done since the bleeding didn't really stop that weekend. It was never strong enough to be a flow, and it only showed up when I wiped. Otherwise, I spotted brown for most of that weekend.

When I got back home, I managed to get an appointment scheduled for Monday. I had an ultrasound and blood work done. The ultrasound absolutely shattered me. The doctor couldn't find anything in my uterus, and only found my cyst in my tube and another cyst in my ovary. They insisted that I was probably too early and the embryo would be way too little to see if it had even formed yet. I went home and cried for the rest of the day. I cried harder when I got a call saying that my levels put me at around 2-3 weeks, because that just didn't make any sense to me. I was sure I was miscarrying at this point, which my doctor said I should be prepared to deal with. Two days later, I got more blood drawn and I got happier news back: my levels were going up, but not as much as they would have liked. I had another ultrasound and more blood work scheduled for the following Monday. I didn't make it to then.

Sunday night, Jan. 31, I had the most severe cramps I had ever had in my entire life. It got to the point where I couldn't get comfortable no matter what I did. I felt extremely bloated, and when I walked, I couldn't put weight on my right side without pain shooting into my lower right abdomen. Anthony drove me to the ER, where I got more blood drawn and had another ultrasound done.

The ultrasound showed a possible ectopic pregnancy outside my right ovary in my tube.

When the doctor told me this, I shut my eyes tight to hold the tears back. I couldn't breathe. I wanted this to just be a nightmare. He told me that there was nothing wrong with me or Anthony that could have caused this. It just happens sometimes. I didn't feel any better, obviously. I crumpled into a little ball and sobbed until I couldn't feel anymore. I called my parents to update them. I was discharged around midnight in stable condition.

The next night, I felt the same exact pain. I couldn't get comfortable. I wanted to go back to the ER because what if my tube was rupturing? I was able to fall asleep, but the next morning, the pain was back and Anthony took me to the doctor for another ultrasound and even more blood work. Once again, no sac in my uterus, and a possible ectopic pregnancy on my right side. The results from the blood work showed that my levels went down, and my doctor said I would get an injection of methotrexate to end the pregnancy so I could miscarry normally and my tube would be less likely to rupture.

The worrying had finally reached its peak. I cried on the couch while Anthony held me. I had barely made it to be about 6 weeks pregnant before it was all over. I wouldn't get to see my belly grow with this baby. I wouldn't get to feel the kicks. I wouldn't get to give birth to this baby and hold our love incarnate in my arms. I wouldn't get to raise this baby to be the most wonderful human being in existence.

I called my mom and she cried with me. My dad called a little while later and cried too. I got the injection, and then the pain came back full force later that night. I went back to the ER in more pain than ever. I was sure my tube had ruptured. I had my first IV ever and the painkillers they gave me did the very trick. I couldn't feel anything. I had another ultrasound done, and they had me stay overnight to watch the pain. The nurse said I should be prepared for surgery in the morning depending on what my doctor thought. I was terrified.

The pain didn't bother me too much for the rest of the night. Thankfully, they found no blood in my pelvis or abdomen, and I was discharged the following afternoon. We picked up my pain meds for the coming days, which would be undoubtedly tough for me to get through. My sisters and my parents gifted me a "get well soon" balloon (my first ever), a pink baby toy, and a beautiful little figurine of an angel of guidance. They stayed at home with me for a little bit while my dad got us something to eat, then they went back home. I can't imagine going through this without them. They are everything to me.

Now, I wait for closure.

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2/29/2016

I decided today would be a good day to follow up on what I wrote soon after my experience in the hospital. It's the last day of the month and Leap Day at that, which means that I'm finally out of this awful month and maybe now I can turn my thoughts towards good things.

As far as all the TMI stuff (that was your warning), I barely stopped bleeding/spotting this past Saturday. In all, I bled/spotted for almost 40 straight days. Yikes. Even at that, I started spotting again today so I'm still not very sure what's going on yet.

All I know for sure is that since I got the shot, I've been going to the doctor once every week to get my blood drawn so they can monitor my beta hCG levels (the pregnancy hormone). As of this past visit, they were at 6. After I got the shot, I think my levels were around 400. Five and under are considered non-pregnant, so by the time I get my blood drawn again, I'll officially be non-pregnant.

It's all really bittersweet.

Still, getting my levels back down to zero means that my body is healing normally.

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5/8/2016 - Mother's Day

It was important for me to finally publish this today for the following reasons:

Today is indeed a day dedicated to celebrating our mothers for being the strongest people in our lives. My mom and I haven't always had the best relationship, but I respect that she is my mother. Without her, I wouldn't be, and my sisters wouldn't either. She is one of the strongest women I know for all that she's been through. She would have been the most loving grandma to this baby.

Today is also hard for those of you whose mothers are no longer living. Please forgive us when we post pictures of us with our mothers and of our mothers and gushing over how amazing they are and how glad we are to have them in our lives. Because we really do mean it. But that doesn't mean that ours matter more than yours. Your mothers were great simply by giving birth to you, and for many more reasons unique to her. She will forever live through you, and through the rest of your families.

Today is a day for mothers to celebrate being mothers. They gave birth to people that they would raise with all the love they had to give.

Today is a day for people who never got to be mothers to celebrate the impact they've had on others' lives. They have someone that says, "She's like a mother to me."

Today is a day for the fathers that have had to fill in and be both parents for whatever reason, because parenthood isn't easy.

For me, today is hard. Today was kind of supposed to be my first Mother's Day, even if my baby would still have been in utero (so to speak). Today, I am reflecting on who I want to be. And I am more motivated than ever to press on.

My first pregnancy is never going to be easy for me to talk about. I haven't yet made it through telling someone about it without tearing up or crying. Putting my experience into words is also quite complicated. The most difficult idea to process is that I will never be able to hold that baby in my arms. Ever. I have felt what it's like to be pregnant, and now that I'm not, I feel as though I'm empty. Part of me is missing. These are the thoughts that torment my mind well into the early morning hours.

What makes it complicated is this, however...

I am not and never will be glad that this happened to me. I hope that I never have to experience something like this again, and I would never wish this onto anyone, no matter how much I dislike them. But just because it happened doesn't mean that I'm finished with that aspect of my life. Anthony & I are almost done with school, and what's next is to have our wedding like we initially planned. It just so happens that we don't have to make room for a baby so soon after all. This certainly makes what we have planned easier. We were fully prepared to raise this baby, but because of what has happened, we feel that we have been given an opportunity. We get to be childless for at least a little longer, which is something that we will absolutely not take for granted.

Don't be mistaken---I would give anything, absolutely ANYTHING, to still be pregnant. But now, we have the opportunity to make sure that we create the best environment to raise our future kids in. When we are ready, we will absolutely bring them into this world.

To keep the memory of our baby alive, we have affectionately named him or her:


I have a list of names already picked out for my future children because I'm super analytical when it comes to names. I wanted this baby's name to mean exactly what he or she was, which is another thing; I'm pretty sure this baby was going to be a girl. No matter what it was, I was always going to love them, but I had a feeling that I'd be welcoming a little girl into the world.

But on to the name--- Micah can mean "who is like God?" or "gift from God", and Kiran means "ray of light".

Baby Micah,

You are infinitely loved. For the brief moment that I held you in my body, I was so excited to finally become a mother. I know that there is nothing I can do to reverse what has happened. There is nothing anyone can say to me that will make me feel any better about losing you. But thank you, my little beam of light, my ray of hope, for showing me that I am capable of becoming pregnant. I thank God in heaven for blessing me with this gift, even if it was very briefly. I thank Jesus Christ and his heavenly mother Mary for watching over me, and for letting me trust my instincts and recognize when something is wrong with my body. If I hadn't followed my own intuition, the consequences would have been dire, and my life would have been at stake. I am heartbroken that we will never know you. But I know that somehow, someday, we will be together again. I will wear my necklace always to remember you by. And one day, when I finally get to have my children, your little brothers or sisters, with me on this earth, I will be the best mother that I can possibly be. And I will do it because of you, never instead of you. You will always be in my heart, Micah.

Love,

Mommy & Daddy

Let me further clarify the title.

After my freshman year of college, I wrote a post highlighting key takeaways from my very first year. Soon after (the next year, to be exact), I became overwhelmed and let my grades slip. And truth be told, it was just a matter of not knowing how to effectively prioritize. It wasn't until the first summer session of this year that I finally found a way to keep up with my note-taking skills. This past semester, I found a way to keep up with my assignments for multiple classes, because that was one of my hugest problems. It only took four years, but hey! Better late than never, amirite? After all, I went from feeling so low that I wanted to drop out of school almost two years ago, to making the Dean's List AND being granted full-major status this semester. So I'm going to share my new school organization method!