February 10-14, 2019, my family embarked on a Disney cruise! There was so much anticipation and excitement leading up to the cruise. A lot of people have asked how the cruise, and I haven't gone into a lot of details.  I decided to post the letter I wrote to Disney the day after returning home as my review and to let everyone know how our cruise experience was.

From my understanding, our experience was a rare one and very uncommon.  But since Disney doesn't seem to care, I'm sharing my letter and letting people know about our experience.

"February 14, 2019
 
To: Disney Cruise Line, Walt Disney World, Disney Guest Services and whom else this may concern;
Hello. My name is Brittani Tomic and I am writing this letter in regards to our recent voyage on the Disney Wonder, 4-Night Bahamiah Cruise from February 10-14th.  Our experience has warranted this letter.
For my 32 years, the magic of Disney is something that is classic and timeless.  It truly is the happiest place on earth where all dreams can come true.  And for 32 years, that is the expectation that Disney has always set and exceeded.  The magic is something I always looked forward too year after year.  Being a mother, the excitement, magic and wonder is something amazing and unexplainable that I look forward to experiencing with my children.  Our children are 10, 3, and 2.  The oldest child experienced his Disney magic for the first time at the age of 3 at the Disneyland Resort in California.  We have since enjoyed the magic world of Walt Disney World in Florida.  In 2017, our middle child got her first experience with the Disney magic in Walt Disney World.  This cruise was a first Disney experience for our littlest princess.  As a family, we truly love the magic of Disney.
The decision to embark on a cruise this time was made after a difficult period.  Arzola, our three years young princess, has had a rough medical go around since before she was born.  She has a Doc McStuffins doll she always takes with her because Doc makes her feel brave.  Actually almost a year to the day she was born, my son and I tossed pennies in Cinderella’s Wishing Well and wished upon our penny stars for here.  She truly is a Disney baby and blessing.  Summer 2018, she spent a lot of time in the local Children’s Hospital having many brain scans and tests ran due to frequency of seizures accompanied by unexplained fevers.  Different Disney movie classics helped keep her spirits up and after every test or treatment, she always received a Disney toy.  This is what she looked forward too.  This is what kept her going. We started the discussion for what can we do for her to ease everything she had gone through.  With medical bills rising, our hopes of a Disney trip were minimizing.  Family members decided that our sweet princess deserved a break and something nice, ultimately helping to fund the cruise so our daughter could enjoy time away from doctors and hospitals, just to relax and be the true princess she is.
 In October, she went in for a surgical procedure to help stop the seizures.  Six days after the procedure, she started hemorrhaging from the surgical incision.  Her vitals dropped and she was bleeding to death internally. On October 12, 2018, we placed our daughters in the doctors arms not knowing if we would see her alive again as they rushed her into emergency surgery. I’m not sure if you know what it’s like to give your child a kiss not knowing if you will ever see them alive again, but it is a gut-wrenching feeling that I can’t explain and no parent should have to go through.  But she did it, brave like Merida, strong willed like Moana and a warrior like Mulan, she pulled through.  After a time in the hospital, we brought our little girl home.  A few weeks after surgery, she was diagnosed with Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome.  There are seven types, she was diagnosed with two types Hypermobility Type 3 and Vascular – which is life threatening.  There is no cure, there is no treatment.  Now more than ever, we knew this trip was going to be extra magical because we were given a second chance with our daughter and now knowing she has a life threatening rare condition, we don’t know if this will be our last chance to make magical Disney memories with our Princess.
Sharing my daughter’s story with you is a huge part of why I’m writing this letter to you.  I have been experiencing Disney magic for 32 years, I’m a Disney kid at heart.  And for the past 10 years, I’ve been able share the magic with my three children. It has always been such an amazing experience that always exceeds my expectations. I had the same expectations for the Disney cruise, which unfortunately, turned out to be less than magical and a bit disappointing.
From planning of the trip, I worked with Cast Members via phone and online chat.  The main information we were given was the cruise needs to be completely paid for to book any excursions.  With the help of family, we were excited to explore Atlantis, relax on Castaway Cay, take my special princess to the Royal Tea Party.  Everyone raves about how amazing cruises are and we could not wait to share in this excitement with our kids and try a different Disney adventure.
When I booked the cruise, it was all paid for upfront. It was then that I learned about the excursion booking window, no changes could be made after final payment, etc. Every cast member I talked too had a different answer.  No one seemed to know what was going on, and no one seemed to want to use a little pixie dust to answer questions or help with requests.  Frustrated I tried to ask over 10 different Disney certified/approved travel agents some of my questions, ALL refused to answer or help because I did not book with them.  But their services are free, right?! Apparently they can refuse service also. Because of that, I will never book with a travel agent, ever. We decided to fly in the day before and stay on Disney property thinking it would be easier.  Even told that by staying at Disney resort that when we arrived would be escorted up and could board the ship. There was always different answers no matter who we talked to. ((On a side note, we did talk to one cast member named Peter – he was incredible and very personable. The best person I had talk too pre cruise.))  One main thing I had asked about was the fact that our Atlantis Excursion and the Royal Tea Party fell on the same day. There were still open times online, when I spoke to people, I explained how important this would be to my daughter who has a life threatening condition and that we would make it back from Atlantis on time, we were directed to go straight to Guest Service once we boarded the ship and they could override and work their magic.
A few days prior to the cruise, the alert came out about two states being under a state of emergency with a Measles outbreak. Arzola has an autoimmune disorder and though she has her vaccines, she still relies on the herd immunity of others.  Her body can’t fight what others can.  Again, I called to ask if there were protocols or requirements.  It made me sick to learn during an outbreak that could kill at risk children – there was no vaccine requirement, nothing that could prevent a child with measles or exposed to measles to bring it on our board our ship.  I understand nowadays to vaccinate is a personal choice, but in a closed space during a state wide outbreak where an emergency is being declared, vaccinations absolutely should have been mandatory.  The end result was – my pediatrician had to give Arzola a repeat round of vaccines.
Our boarding process came and we soon realized that there truly was no perk of staying on a Disney resort as cast members had made it seem.  We felt lied too and betrayed as we paid the extra money to stay on property, using the Disney transportation just to be called during an open boarding.
Upon boarding the ship, I went straight to Guest Services as directed.  The line went quickly and we were greeted by unfriendly cast members who seemed already annoyed.  This was our first cruise, we had no idea.  When I asked about dining rotation and all the symbols on the card, the responses were all came with an annoyed tone.  I brought up that we were instructed by cast members to talk them about the Royal Tea Party, and how it was important with our daughter’s condition that we could do it.  We were told it would be ran by a manager and that someone would be in contact with us to talk to us more about the situation. We never heard back from or talk to anyone.  On the day of Atlantis, we made sure we were back to the ship by 3 in case they had gotten her in. But we had heard nothing.  This was the magical experience my daughter really wanted to have.  And since it was only offered one time and the crew, and crew manager felt her magical experience wasn’t worth talk to us about – she missed it. We were all disappointed.  I never made the promise to her we were going because I knew there was a chance we couldn’t get it but it was something she was looking forward too.  Not being able to experience that with her will always be something that weighs heavy on my heart, and I can only pray she remains healthy enough to possibly enjoy a Royal Tea Party at some point. It’s very humbling to realize a sick child’s dream isn’t worth at least a call back from a manager or crew member – not even a courtesy apology they couldn’t get her in. 
After leaving the guest service counter, we were lost. Ignored by two cast members, one finally answered us and rudely explained how we could get to the elevator to get around to our room.  Eventually we got settled in, and got ready for dinner.  On the way to dinner, we past Ariel.  My two princesses lost their mind, and since there wasn’t a line for her, we waited for the girl in front of us to take her picture before trying to snap a quick one. (Remember we had a first timer, this was her first character sightseeing – it was a big deal!). Only for the mom to pull out TWELVE –yes 12 – picture frames for people back home for Ariel to sign.  Of course, Ariel stopped to sign ALL of them and went to talk away. I had to practically beg for 2 seconds of her time just for our girls to get a picture with her.  Better management needs to be done with that signing, our girls’ should not have been rushed or missed an opportunity because someone brought so many things to be signed for people not even on the cruise ship. Yes, I counted as she signed and overheard.  The mom thought her being rude was funny. 
At dinner, our dining team (Jose, Sheldon, and Geffrey) were absolutely incredible! Such vibrant personalities and so much fun.  We cannot praise them enough and how amazing they were! We were shocked to find there were no cups with lids and had to ask for straws, nothing to make enjoying a beverage simple for a little person. Also prior to the cruise we had to list food allergies, which we have, and Jose had to scramble and work with the chef for things our kids could safely enjoy.  What is the point of listing food allergies prior if they are not going to be accommodated? This was an issue that was consistent every night.
After dinner, unfortunately sickness hit three out of five of us.  Medicine is really only sold in one place on board the ship? And at this time, I had to wait to purchase the medicine because someone wanted to see and try on every piece of jewelry in the case.  I warned the cast member the medicine was urgent.  I don’t understand why I had to go to four locations just to learn only ONE location on the ship sold medicine. That is definitely area of improvement.
Our room was great and cozy, Greg was our stateroom host and did an incredible job.  I don’t think we could have asked for a more magical and expectation exceeding host.  Though the shower drain in our stateroom didn’t stick so we couldn’t give our girls’ baths.  Also the drain on our verandah had a lot of hair in it and around it, which was absolutely disgusting and unsanitary.  But other than that our room was great, beds were comfy, kids loved the bunkbeds.
Monday, we woke up refreshed and so excited for Atlantis.  Breakfast was a little chaotic at Cabana’s.  Atlantis is probably it’s own separate experience from Disney but we thought the Atlantis pictures were going to be included in our cruise pictures.  Offering the Atlantis excursion was a big hit.  My frustration and disappointment with the Royal Tea Party was already mentioned.  After dinner, we got the kids ready to see the Frozen show.  They were beyond excited to see Anna and Elsa.  Upon walking into the theater, we were greeted by a cast member saying “I think you can find some standing room” then we explained we have a daughter with a disability and Arzola would need to sit.  He then informed us that there was no room and that we could sit on the stairs and maybe someone will leave.  There really is no disability accommodation in the theater? We were dumbfounded to realize that seats were reserved for people with disabilities.  Arzola’s EDS condition affects her legs and she is in pain if she has to stand or walk for long periods of time, also running the risk of dislocation in her joints.  She needs to sit and rest as much as possible.  I was taken back that there was no disability accommodation. After sitting on the side steps for the show, we decided to would be best to not bring Arzola to shows if this was going to be the issue.  Again, another missed experience for our princess, the reason we were on the cruise to begin with. Monday was a very heartbreaking and frustrating day, and nothing like I had ever experienced from Disney.
Tuesday, we woke up with a positive attitude, we were going to make the best of the day at Castaway Cay.  No excursions planned, not many set times besides the Disney Junior Party on board at 3:30.  The kids were beyond excited to see the characters as we were going to Castaway Cay, only to be rushed through them or pushed away.  Our first time princess was upset that she could only watch Mickey walk by.  We dropped two of the kids off at Scuttle’s Cove because they were excited for all the kid activities for the day.  As we dropped them off, I asked questions about them being served lunch, it was then our file was pulled up and the kids’ food allergy information was listed.  The cast member then questioned if they were real allergies, intolerances or preferences.  Even if it was a preference, it’s not up to the cast member to question.  I would never purposely keep dairy and nuts from my children – that is miserable to willingly keep ice cream from kids. Which it was miserable for them that there is free ice cream everywhere but NONE of it is dairy free or lactose free. At this point, my children’s allergies being questioned was truly enough for me. I wanted to turn around and go home.  Our Castaway Cay day was cut short and we headed back to the ship for naps and see what on board activities we could do.  My husband paid for wifi which ended up not working and he didn’t use because of it not loading. After rushing down to the Disney Junior Dance Party, my daughter was in pain and sat there.  It made me sad that this activity was only offered once and because of her condition putting her in pain, she was unable to participate.
Also, Tuesday evening, we looked into the nursery to place our littlest princess. The past few days had been nothing short of frustrating and disappointing.  Only to get the nursery and see that three friends had decided to wait list their three kids but they wanted their three kids in there at once and not individually.  The girl explained to me that for the rest of the cruise if we didn’t have a reservation that we would be waited listed after this group of three.  Also, explaining that even if two people cancelled, they still couldn’t bump my daughter up because this group of three was at the top of the wait list – and they were for the rest of the cruise.  Management needs to handle that better, it is not fair to the rest of the guests that because friends want their kids to go in the nursery all at the same time, that the wait list is held and stopping others from utilizing the nursery.  It should be a one at a time. Not only did families miss out on opportunities they could have enjoyed, but I can’t imagine the money that was lost by these three friends manipulating the wait list for days.  At this point, I was ready to go home.
Finally, it was Wednesday and the day at sea. My husband I had looked forward to a couples massage and adult time.  Of course, Wednesday morning after breakfast our littlest princess hurt her arm. Sometimes her elbow gets jammed and just needs a good shake but for whatever reason, this particular time, we couldn’t fix it.  I walked her down to the Medical Center and was taken back that a.) it was going to cost almost $200 for a doctor just to look at her and b.) the medical center wasn’t a 24 hour thing.  Seeing that caused a panic mode with having a daughter whom has condition and I can’t even rely on a ship to have 24 hour medical care if something goes wrong.  We opted out of seeing the doctor and figured she could fix herself. There was no way I was going to pay almost $200 just to have a doctor shake her elbow. You really don’t have a non-urgent nurse for little things like that?! That is insane. No worries, eventually the little princess got her elbow worked back in and all was good.  Our Frozen and Princess meet and greets were perfect, the kids were excited.
I did stop by Shutters to order some pictures and the screen gave me three options for photo ordering: 10, 15, or a USB with all digits – we couldn’t even view the pictures. Why would I only purchase a select few if I can’t even see what I’m buying.  So blindly we purchased all the digits and USB, and hoped for the best. Is that really a good strategy? Definitely not something we appreciated, but we will go more into that in a bit.
Finally, it was time from some adult time.  My husband and I were going to have a drink, enjoy the Quiet Cove before our massage.  We sat at Signals for quite a few minutes, we were never acknowledged or served so we got up and walked away.  We scheduled a couple’s massage, Alma was my massage therapist and she was absolutely fantastic! However, it’s hard to relax when the basketball court is above the spa and you can hear everything going on in the surrounding rooms.  It took away from being able to relax and enjoy.  We paid a lot of money to get massages to the sound of dribbling basketballs, people talking in the room next to us, and the sounds of a bath or some type of full pressure water being ran.  Eventually we picked up our little prince and princesses then headed to dinner. Animator’s Palate was hands down the best dining experience there! It really was the perfect dinner and ending to a mediocre and not so magical cruise. After dinner, we wanted to try to attend the adult only magic show, we attempted the nursery again, only for the girl at the computer to repeat the same thing we had heard all week, the friends with three kids were still at the top of the waiting list and until they could get all three in at the same time, no other child was going to be able to go in. So that was a wrap to our final night.  We decided to take the kids and let them pick out their mickey ears and souvenirs before heading to bed.  My ten year old was disappointed in the fact there were no gender neutral or male mickey ears, that’s something he really looks forward too. This is the first time in 7 years, he did not get ears at the end of his trip. (We had done a few purchases at Mickey’s TopSail, Claudia is amazing! Really a fantastic cast member.) Being repeat purchasers, we knew the drill when we were checking out but this time, the first time we were ever asked if we had additional discounts.  I mentioned I had the Disney Visa but we had my husband’s Amex on file for our room charging.  The male cast member then asked if I wanted to use my Visa for the purchase and get this discount. I pulled out my Disney Visa only to be told no that it wasn’t the right Visa.  We bank with Chase, I’ve had my card for years. Disneyland, WDW, stores, etc we have never had any issues with it and the discount.  Even when my card arrived it came with the pamphlet of all things Disney information related.  Not one time have I ever had an issue using my card.  On the cast member end, it turned into a bigger deal than it really needed to be.  He brought the manager, Natalia, over to explain how my card wasn’t a part of the contract between Disney and Chase and all the other Disney locations had done me a disservice by allowing me to use the discounts on a card that wasn’t qualified. I have been using my Disney Visa for years and never have I ever been denied my perks and discounts. And it wasn’t even myself that brought up the discounts, I was fine with just putting it on my husband’s card.  This whole conversation turned debate was brought on by the cast member. My mind was boggled and at that point, I just wanted to leave the merchandise on the counter and walk away.  So many small insignificant things had just been piling up to where I was reaching my breaking point.  This cruise went from exciting… to mediocre… to not magical… and now it was beginning to be downright miserable. I couldn’t wait to port and disembark.
My husband also found it distasteful that the additional gratuity was added on without our consent, as we had withdrew cash to leave cash gratuities.  For the amount we pay, it should be included or a given an option to leave gratuity. And a $54 gratuity charge per child.  That’s a joke, right?! Rhetorical question.
Speaking of disembark, the morning of disembarkment came.  Apparently guest services lost or didn’t save our flight information and confirmation.  A boarding pass was never checked in and printed out for our youngest daughter.  My husband put the bags out that were to be checked, and we were charged for the checked bags.  He was told he would see them at our final destination – Cleveland, Ohio.  Turns out the wrong labels got put on the bags, our bags almost got let behind in Port Canaveral due to this miscommunication.  And now not only had we been charged through Disney from the checked bags, but we also had to pay it at the airline counter.  Because of Milena not having a prior passport, it became an issue at our gate to board the plane as far as checking her in and having a ticket.
At the end of the day today, we all made it home safely.  Excited to unwind and load my USB of unknown and unseen pictures, I was really excited to see that for $229 – we had another family’s meet and greet pictures, and nothing from Atlantis.  There were on 67 photos on our USB and some not even ours.  Disappointment doesn’t even begin to express my feelings.  And for $229 seeing the USB, it makes me absolutely sick to my stomach.
As a family, we were so excited for this cruise.  Our sweet princess Arzola came home disappointed and heartbroken that she didn’t get to see more characters. We tried to see them but somehow always showed up after “the last family.” A life threatening condition means we may never get to have a Disney experience with her again.  We went into the cruise excited, we wanted to join the vacation club and plan our next vacation. Right now, my husband doesn’t want to give Disney another dime or plan anymore vacations.  This was just all around a miserable experience with a few happy moments. My kids came home disappointed, my husband came home frustrated, and me, being a Disney lover, I am just in disbelief over the experience of the past few days.  I am having a hard time fathoming that what we just experienced had a Disney name on it.  I’m truly in tears over how disappointing everything was and the lack of joy my kids’ got to experience. Any feedback I can give on improving the quality of experience would be offer activities more than once, make more characters have meet and greet times like the princesses and Frozen. The nursery really needs better wait list practices, management or more staff, there is no reason three people should have manipulated and dominated the wait list like they did, hindering other people’s experiences.
With Arzola having a life threatening condition, our medical bills are high and insurance doesn’t cover a lot. How long she is going to feel good and healthy for vacations is also an unknown. A Disney vacation is a luxury for us that we plan and save for, that funding is often helped with by family members. I spend a lot of time researching and planning, checking as many details as I can – I put hours into planning our Disney trips.  My husband took vacation time out for this that is limited with his job, our son missed school, the time and money that was spent on this is something we can’t get back.  The chance to make memories is something we can’t get back.  Anytime we spoke of confusion or frustration during the planning process until getting on the bus to depart for the airport, we were dismissed quickly and no one really wanted to take the time to see how they could ease the frustration or help.
From the bottom of my heart, I truly love Disney and always have, but this experience it was not magical and really changed a lot for us."

Disney's Executive of Guest Relations for the Cruise Line was very quick to get in touch with me.  Since then I've received two more surveys about the experience.  We were never offered an apology, but instead a "thank you for your feedback." My heart is broken and sick that this is the experience that we had and Disney can't even give an apology. 

So for those wondering about the Disney Cruise.... that was our experience. Hopefully our letter makes it better for the next person, since they don't seem to care about our experience.

It was just another Monday.

I woke up, fed the kids, got my son on the bus, went to the gym, etc.  Per usual my calendar was filled with kids' activities and our to do list. Just a normal Monday. 
The girls and I had lunch, watched cartoons and snuggled before nap time.  As most nap times go, Arzola came into my room and cuddled up next to me. When Brystin got off the bus, he came up and laid with us too - which is rare because normally he just wants to play, but since he's getting older, I'll take all the snuggles I can get.

Arzola got up from her nap first, gave her brother a big hug and asked "do you want to play with me?"
He let out a huge snore.  Monday must have really kicked his butt.  Bummed he didn't wake up, she went into her room to pout. I walked by her room, peaked in and saw her sitting on her bed, playing with her doll.  I went into Milena's room, all I did was change her diaper - maybe two minutes.  I peaked back across the hall to get Zola so we could go downstairs and have a snack, and that's when I realized this wasn't a normal Monday anymore.

There she was laying in her bed, fetal position, lethargic and covered in blood.  Her hands were held out, open like she was waiting for someone to hand her something, and also covered in blood.  Her eyes were heavy and glossed over.  She never cried, never screamed, never so much as whimpered. Confusion was the first emotion, I had just seen her maybe two minutes prior and she was fine. A perfectly fine three year old playing. 

 I ran downstairs, put Milena in her high chair and stumbled down to the basement where my husband was working. 
"She's covered in blood. Arzola" still confused, but I managed to mumble it out and panic set in as we both ran upstairs.  She was a little more conscious now but we had no idea what happened to her.

We rushed her to the Southwest General ER in Brunswick. She was 6 days post op from a T&A and had been in a lot of discomfort for a few days prior, that's all we knew. I didn't know how this happened. She was fine and then she wasn't.  They checked her over, and the doctors biggest concern seemed to be why we took her somewhere in Brunswick and not back to Akron. They attempted to check her mouth to look at her incision, but ultimately because her vitals were stable, they made the decision to discharge her, assuming it was just a nose bleed.

As they were starting the discharge paperwork, she started coughing up and throwing up blood. It looked like a horror scene. We were all covered, this is not an image I would wish upon any mother or human to ever see.  At that point, they made the decision to send her to Akron Children's. 

There seemed to be a lot of confusion at Akron Children's and no one really knew what to do.  They decided to admit her overnight for observation.  The next morning, the ENT doctor and surgeon came in.  The ENT doctor felt it was a blood clot in her throat.  The surgeon said it was a hemorrhage, a rare post op bleeding complication that effects 3% of patients but is the leading cause of pediatric post op fatalities.   They kept trying to look in her throat and the incision, but she refused.  At this point, she had also stopped eating, drinking and wasn't using the bathroom.  They kept her another night to artificially hydrate her and to observe.  Wednesday morning, she seemed to take a down turn.  All Tuesday night we struggled to manage her pain. Not only was she refusing to eat, drink and go to the bathroom but now she was refusing to move or even sit up.  She didn't want to talk or smile.  They started her on steroids and within a few hours, they let her go home and discharged her with a diagnosis of Post Op Hemorrhage.  I didn't feel comfortable with her going home and something still seemed off.

She came home weak and in pain. Hours were spent laying around and being lethargic.  Wednesday night and Thursday night went by.  Friday, Arzola seemed to have a really good day.  She was in great spirits and finally started to seem like she was getting back to her usual self again.  

Friday night, it all changed.
She came in our room and it was almost as if she couldn't walk.  She was dazed and confused.  Pj carried her back into her bed, and a few minutes later, she came rushing back in. 
"Momma.... I'm spit-----" and in the dark, all I saw was blood.  Pj and I both jumped up, he called 9-1-1 immediately as I grabbed towels to try to clean her up. She threw up more blood and fell to the floor unconscious. I tried to talk to her but she was unresponsive. She was weak, and pale.  It seemed like forever by the time EMS arrived to our house.  She was rushed to the Cleveland Clinic and from there - right back to Akron Children's.
Her hemoglobin dropped from 12 to 6 in a matter of minutes, and the blood would not stop coming up. Her vitals kept dropping.  Thinking back to that EMS ride and the Cleveland Clinic, it really is all a blur. 

When she was rushed into Akron Children's, it was like a scene from a movie.  They rushed her through the trauma, the doctors and surgeons + nurses were already in the room waiting for us.  They had received all of her labs, checked her labs and vitals one more time. Her vitals weren't remaining stable. Within a few minutes we were rushed up to pre surgery.  The doctor came in and the whole conversation was just a whirlwind.  They talked about doing everything they can to save her and help her get better.  Saying they called for blood and have two tubs of blood ready on stand by for a blood transfusion.  Discussed with me all the options, positives, negatives, risks, side effects of a blood transfusion and how it could be necessary to save her life. How her body handles surgery would depend on the blood transfusion, if her vitals remained a comfortable level, then she could probably go without it.  The emergency surgery would require them to drain the blood from her stomach so she wouldn't aspirate on her blood during the procedure. Neurology was on stand by to make sure her brain waves could handle going under the anesthesia again.  It was a lot of confusion, a lot of unknown.  She remained so brave, and so strong. 

Being a Saturday morning, there was no one in surgery waiting room.  When the nurse walked me out, there was only one person just passing through for coffee.  Once I sat, I just buried my head in my hands and cried.  That one person, that one random person, came over and sat by me.
"I was just passing by for coffee, it's a quiet day.... *sticks his hand out for a hand shake* I'm the hospital chaplain, can I pray with you?" Believing God puts people in our path at the right time, I shook my head yes. 

He prayed with me and offered to sit with me until my husband arrived or Arzola was out of surgery, respectfully I told him I appreciated it but I had phone calls to return and it had been a long night.  I tried to return as many calls and texts as I could, some many people wrapped us in prayer and it was a calm.  I was going to remain faithful, God's plan is set and even though I'm blessed to be called mama, she is God's child.  I kept telling myself that no struggle is pointless and there is a reason. God's plan will be and I need to trust in his plan and in his word. He will comfort and guide no matter what the outcome.

Finally, the doctor came out.  She told me that Arzola had made it threw surgery without needing the transfusion.  A blood clot was found at the lower left of her incision from the T&A and there was a bleed from the lower part of the incision.  She went in a cauterized it, and drained and suctioned all the blood where she could see it.  She also found a lot of dark clotted blood in her stomach that she had already reached out to hematology about it.

She woke up in recovery, screaming and confused. We were moved to the P.I.C.U for awhile so she could be monitored, vitals watched.  When they felt she was stable enough, we were moved up to a room.  She was remaining on the IV for medicine and fluids, hooked up to vital machines for constant monitoring.
The doctors came in and were apologetic about sending her home the first time.

"I wasn't comfortable with her going home. I made that known. I asked numerous times about bloodwork and scoping her throat, no one felt what she was going through was serious enough, but here we are again - worse off than before. Maybe I should have been persistent? Maybe someone should have done their job better? I don't know but we aren't leaving here without a healthy and fixed child!"
The ENT came in, different specialists, hematology, the number of people that kept coming in poking and checking her was traumatic for such a small child.
The hematologist said they would be running full panels, checking her for everything from anemia to leukemia. Leukemia. Cancer. Now we are way off from any problem we thought we had. 
As they came in and fought with a scared toddler with blown veins, they were able to get all the blood they needed. Within hours, the doctor came in and said so far she is anemic but there are no signs of leukemia, but would run extra tests to confirm.
Sunday the result came back, no Leukemia. Praise God!
So now we're going in between.... is there a blood disorder, was this a rare complication? 

After 24 hours, she came off the fluids and was able to maintain hydration on her own.
After 48 hours of being stable, she was able to come off of all the vital monitors.  And her throat was healing - no blood. Her incisions were now healing and looked as they should.

The question still remained, what caused this? The blood clot, hemorrhaging, a slow drip from the incision, a bleeding disorder. 
Hematology is waiting a month for her body to recover from all the trauma before running another full CBC panel so we aren't out of the woods yet.  Depending on her panel, she still may need a blood transfusion.  We're still waiting for answers.

In correlation to her medical history: the cyst, seizures, unexplained fevers, low muscle tone and delays, this bleeding also plays into the possible diagnosis of Lupus.  It is hard, almost impossible, to diagnosis a child under 5 with Lupus, but she keeps hitting the markers for it. Moving forward with that will depend on how her next CBC panel comes back. 

Right now, as long as she is at home recovering, we are taking it a day at time.  We are hoping the worst is behind us and she truly is on the mend.  Taking her medicine for anemia is a crucial part in getting her through each day.  Each day is progress and seems to be better than the day before.  A strict diet and limited activity is still our life for another week. 

Many times people have said "I don't know what I would do." "I can't imagine" .... when you are in those moments, you do what you have too.  You remain strong for them.  She needed me to be strong. I would fall apart when she wasn't around, but for her, she needed my strength.  And she fought through those battles with so much courage and strength.  Her little body was put through so much.
The big picture is we are truly blessed. We have to give the glory and praise to God.  Things could have been a lot worse.  The outcome could have been a lot worse.  We could have lost our daughter, she could have needed that emergency blood transfusion, it could have been leukemia... we're counting our blessings that we were given another chance to be this sweet girl's earthly parents.  Clinging to prayer and putting our faith in God's plan is ultimately what carried us through.  And it's true that no matter who you pray too, there is a strong power in prayer.  When people would check in, "how are you doing?" "how are you holding up?" the response was always: "we are faithful, and exhausted." 
We never once lost faith.  Never once questioned why this happened.  God's plan is something that people often struggle to understand, Christians do too.  Whatever struggle was happening, there was a purpose in it.  It's a small portion of a bigger picture, and that picture might not be clear but it's putting all the trust and faith in the creator.
People across the world were praying for our sweet girl, people that don't pray were praying for our little girl.  Maybe this struggle wasn't for us.  Maybe someone needed to see a light in our little girl to help them.  Arzola is a blessing, and somehow and someway, her struggle was a blessing and a light for someone.  Nothing is purposeless. 

Not having answers is scary, but knowing God is within her.... she will not fall <3

I have been there.

We have all been there.

We have all struggled with a relapse.  We have all struggled with an addiction, or turning back to something that wasn't good for us.  Please know, you are not alone.

As a fan, I feel like there isn't much I can do to help you or save you.  Though, I really just want to give you a hug, cry with you and tell you it is going to be okay.  We will probably never meet and this will probably never get to you, but hopefully it can help someone else in the process.

First, I would like to address the elephant in the room topic that is circulating around. While fans and celebrities are sending prayers and well wishes to you, there are people commenting about why the issues aren't addressed when it's local. While I believe that an addiction is a mental illness, we make the choices of what we become addicted too. Celebrity or not.  I also feel that people rally around you because you are open with your story, and struggle.  You want to use your fight for the greater good and be something bigger than yourself.  Not saying other recovering addicts don't do that, but you have become a voice for others struggling, through your story and music, you make people feel not alone.  That is why this hurts.  This is why we cry.  It's not just another headline, it someone who is able to tell the story of those who are suffering in silence. 
I truly do wish recovery for you and all those who are struggling with demons.

This year, I had a relapse also.
I relapsed into anorexia and into a deep depression.
We all have our demons.

I admire your story and strength because I see a lot of similarities in our struggles.
I, too, grew up abandoned by a parent.  Mine wasn't my dad so I can't relate to "daddy issues", but mine was my mom and "mommy issues" are never something that is talked about.  Constantly searching for love and nurturing.  I wore my heart on my sleeve and just wanted everyone to like me and be my friend.  Trying to fill the void of having a female figure in my life, I yearned for female friends.  This led to a lot of bullying and just brought me down a lot. Growing up without a parent is hard, and it's not something everyone understands.
But I understand, and I'm here for you.

Your arms. I've seen the scars.  The scars you cover with tattoos. My heart breaks and it's almost like looking at a mirror.  I have the same scars.  The same scars that I, too, try to cover with tattoos.  Most people will say it's for attention, or a suicide attempt gone wrong.  But it's not. Just like Eminem said once, "sometimes I cut myself to see how much it bleeds.... like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush for me."  When we hurt so much mentally and can't get it out, we replace it with physical pain, because physical pain goes away.  Not a lot of people understand that but I do, and I'm here for you.

The cruelty of body shaming and never feeling comfortable in your own skin.  Years ago, you were so brave coming forward and addressing the issue of eating disorders. I've battled with anorexia since I was 12.  I was bullied for it.  Mocked.  Encouraged to go throw up or starve myself.  This mentality of never being good enough or skinny enough would just tear me apart.  I thought I had it under control, but then I relapsed in January.  The counting calories, skipping meals, obsessing over the number on the scale.  It's exhausting and controlling.  People will never understand a struggle with the mirror, food, and control... it's hard to explain.  But you don't have to explain to me, I get it. And I'm here for you.

The song "Warrior" it brought my best friend and I together.  Though there is speculation of what the song could be about, I'm sorry for what happened to you.  Two defining moments in my life when I truly felt I was a "warrior" is when I became a survivor of rape and a survivor of domestic abuse.  I was raped when I was 15 by a stranger.  I battle PTSD and Anxiety everyday from the trauma that happened to me.  It's hard to talk to people about it, because they don't understand.  Sometimes I wish I had a friend that I could sit down and talk to when I have a trigger, but I don't.  I find myself working through my triggers myself, and sometimes the urge to self harm comes back to ease the triggers - but I know that I was addicted to it before and once I start again it will be harder to stop.  I don't know if you were raped, but if you were, I understand and I'm here for you.
I don't know if you are a survivor of domestic abuse but that is one of the hardest abuses to come from victim to survivor. I was almost killed.  I had bruises all over my arms. It was a scary time and I still live with fear and nightmares.  If you live with that fear and those nightmares too, you are not alone.  I understand and I'm here for you.

Everyone says that since you're 25, you can't be in recovering for years. That claiming years of sobriety isn't authenticated in your case.  Let me tell you, everyday you are sober deserves to be celebrated!  As a teenager, I became addicted to opioids.  After the rape, fighting my eating disorder demons, my best friend had died, being bullied... along the normal dramas of high school, I made the decision to start using.  And soon became addicted.  It wasn't long after the opioids that I sarted drinking too.  Long story short, one night I had been caught nearly overdosing.  The nurse had told my dad that if I went home, I wouldn't make it to the morning.  It was scary.  Spending time in the rehab facility, showed me my true demons and made me face those fears.  It's been almost 15 years since that first stint, and if we're being honest... I've relapsed back to heavily drinking a few times, started to get addicted to the opioids again.  I had relapsed on cutting.  I've sought treatment two more times since my December 2003 release. It is a life long battle, and there are many times we fall down... but it's not about how much we fall down, it's what we learn from that fall and how we use it when we get back up.  Not many people understand that, but I do, and I'm here for you.

Today, I have three beautiful children.  I struggle with all my previous demons and now postpartum depression and anxiety.  Watching you relapse, it broke my heart.  But it also made me look in the mirror and realize how bad my mental state is getting too and I made the decision to get help for myself.  You have fans that look to you as their hero and voice, I have three little people that need their mommy.  Recovery is a long road, and can be minute by minute, but there is a purpose in your life and people that love you. If you need help realizing that, I am here for you.

Though Demi may never read this or ever know I exist, if you or someone you know is struggling, I'm deeply hoping and praying with every once of my being that they get the help they need... and also if they need, I understand and I'm here for them too.

xoxo
B

One of the most famous quotes ever spoken.  All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my mother....

Usually it's used to give praise or show appreciation.  To honor a woman who becomes your best friend, or one who passed too soon. But what about us that fall somewhere in the middle.  That gray area of my mother hasn't passed but my mother isn't here.  With Mother's Day approaching, it has me feeling some kind of way.

Mother's Day has always had an awkward feeling for me.  It's a day that you either praise and celebrate your mom or a day you mourn the mom you wish was still around.  For me, it's always been a gray area.  I was 12 when my mom decided she wanted a life that didn't make me a priority.  Whether it was selfishness, mental illness, co-dependency issues, addiction, disease... it was more important than me.  It was bigger than me.  It was wanted more than me.  You see, I had always been the reason for my mom's depression.  She was diagnosed with PPD after having me and apparently it has lasted her whole life.  {{yes, at 31 years old, I'm still the culprit.}}  I don't remember much of my childhood... my parents divorced when I was young.  I remember being introduced to the topics of depression and suicide at a very young age, and being made to feel guilty because I didn't understand... and by young age, I was 10.  As a mother now, I can't even imagine of putting the burden of my inner struggle on my oldest child, who is 9 - almost 10.  Looking back, that was the pivotal point that I started to feel like the parent to my parent.

But after I was 12, it was a hit and miss relationship. She would come and go.  We had good times, good laughs, some good memories but it was never consistent.  I really never truly knew what I was going to get day by day.  All I really wanted was that relationship I saw all my friends have with their moms.  They laughed together, got nails done together, went prom dress shopping together... I never had that. Just once I wish my mom would have taken me dress shopping.  
As a teenager and young adult, I want to believe my mom did the best she could.  She would help me through my situations until I became too draining for her.  I never felt loved.  I never felt like I was enough. I never felt like she was proud of me.  My problems were never in comparison to hers.  Her life was always worse, her problem was always worse.

For years, I struggled and struggled up and down the card aisle when Mother's Day came around.... cards read... to the mom who was always there, to the mom who always showed me the way, I'm so blessed to have a mom like you.... I could never ever seem to find the right one with appropriate words to how I was feeling.  Usually I would just end up settling on a basic card, and then feel guilt stricken-ed that I didn't pick out something nicer.  I always felt like she was disappointed too when she would open a card and it wasn't a full on praise. Aside from mother's day, I always felt like a disappointment to her and that I could never do enough to make her happy.  make her love me.  make her proud.  As much as my heart yearned for that, for some reason, it was just never enough.

The current harsh reality of the situation is she decided to cut the ties, telling me I was dead to her and to delete myself from her life.  And then made comments about my children and how they are being raised, ultimately, deciding to disown those three beautiful children too.  But I had to realize.. the severed relationship wasn't my fault. I was the child, she was the mother.  The sole responsibility of showing love couldn't just come from me.  I couldn't always be the one to try and make an effort.  As parents, we are too love our children no matter what... and I couldn't make her love me. 

So to the girls like me... it's not your fault.  We can't chose our parents or make them love us.   We can't carry their burdens or make them want to have an involvement in our lives.

But I do have an important message to the girls like me.  Us, daughters, that fall into the gray area of my mom is alive but I don't have a mother.  We need to show gratitude even when it's hard.  I struggled with this.  In fact, when Pastor Tony talked about this in church, I cried and I asked my husband what could I possibly show her gratitude for.  What could I ever possibly owe to this woman. 
Then it dawned on me.... "All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my mother......"
I am the mom I am because of the mom I lacked.  I know what it feels like to carry the burden of your parents' struggles on your shoulders, and I don't want that for my kids.  I am the room mom, the stay at home mom, the makes-every-single-attempt-to-be-at-her-kids'-events mom, the always at the school volunteering mom.  The I stay up all night making valentine's day boxes mom. Match with my daughter, and polish her nails mom. Also, take the extra time at night to say prayers mom. I cuddle my kids a little more and yell a little less.  I hide my tears so I can wipe theirs. I try my best to make sure that my bad day isn't their bad day.  I push my fears and anxiety away so I can be fearless and strong for them. I do without so they can have. And as I struggle with PPD and PPA... I never look at them as the reason or it being their fault.  I have a survivor mentality and chose to be a warrior.  I try new recipes, we eat dinner together every night and go big for birthday parties.  I give extra effort to every relationship and find myself to be a giver.  I became what I wish I had growing up.
And for that, I have a lot of gratitude in my heart that I owe..... and I owe it to my mother.  

So, with mother's day approaching...
If you have lost your mom here on earth, I'm very sorry for your loss. I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers as I can't imagine how this day feels for you. 

If you have an amazing relationship with your mom and love this day and love celebrating her! That is amazing! I am so happy for you! And I can only hope that one day my children will feel that way about me.

But to the other daughters, in the gray area like me, that don't have a mom to celebrate or spend the day with.... just know you are not alone. There is a village of us all feeling the same confused emptiness on this day as we try to find peace and act like it doesn't hurt just a little bit.  But on this day, try to look at YOUR positives and find the gratitude you can give.  It makes it hurt a little less, I promise.

And, lastly, to her....
    with pain and gratitude in my heart, happy mothers day <3

xoxo B

Forgiveness. It's a hard thing to ask for and an even harder thing to give. I remember sitting in a church service and listening to the Pastor. He said the hardest forgiveness to give is the forgiveness never asked for. A concept so simple but it spoke volumes. It is so true.

How often do we find ourselves clinging on to anger and bitterness because someone never apologized or asked for our forgiveness. I know I am guilty of it.  Does our being angry or bitter affect the other person? Most times, it does not.  Sometimes people don't apologize because they don't feel  they are wrong.  People don't realize they don't get to choose how their actions or words effect us. Even if they do, sometimes they just blatantly don't care.  Some people are so cold, miserable and mean spirited that they thrive on attacking others and trying to bring them down. Hurt people hurt people.

I've been exposed to those types of people.  I've let them bring me down. And I've also chosen to forgive them. 

Forgiving someone doesn't mean it's okay what they did.  It doesn't even mean you want to brush it off and move forward.  Forgiving someone means they no longer have the control over your feelings.  Forgiving them means they no longer hold the power to hurt you or even effect you.  Forgiving is letting go of what was so that you can finally breathe again.  It truly takes a strong person to forgive. 

This is why I chose to forgive you.
For years, I always held on to a hope of what could be.  I held my breath and walked on egg shells. I always felt like I would be the wrong one for standing my guard or saying how I really felt. For years and years, I lived in a prison in my mind that you put me in.  Thinking I was a horrible person, a selfish person, a greedy person, someone who didn't care about others. A materialistic person, a spoiled brat. A bitch. Someone plagued and marked by mental illness that never deserved love or happiness.  I was always afraid to disappoint you, but no matter what I did, I was a disappointment anyways.  That is the prison I let you put me in. For what? For hopes that there would finally be a solid, healthy relationship that I never had. I would see my friends have the relationship I always wanted, and I never understood why it couldn't be us too. There was always an excuse - I don't have money, I don't feel good, I don't want too. There were times I just really needed you and wanted you there but I always came second. 

I will never be your priority. I will never be your favorite. I will never be the one you want to spend time with. And most of all, I will never be the one you apologize too. 

I know my truth, I know my character... and by forgiving you, it's taking back the control and letting you know that you can't make me second guess myself anymore.  I deserve love and happiness.  I love helping people and giving back to others, I love being someone that people can depend on.  I'm the type of person that will raise someone up when I have had enough. I would give the shirt off my back to anybody and I would give my last dime to help someone in need. And you know another reason why I forgive you, because you don't know me well enough to have an opinion that carries any weight.

Besides not letting you have the control over me anymore, you want to know the main reason I forgive you.  I am the mother I am because of you.  Nothing brings me more joy in this world than being with my children and doing for my children.  I LOVE being the room mom, I love just walking around Target or the mall with them, I love our bedtime routines and I love how much they drive me absolutely insane. My heart hurts when they hurt, and my heart explodes with joy over every little tiny thing they accomplish.  I live to celebrate them.  I live to calm them at night when the nightmares scare them, or sleep with 2 inches of bed space because they just want to cuddle. No matter how tired I am or how broke I am, nothing comes in between spending time with them. So you're right.. it is a shame how my kids will grow up. Loved, supported, never looking back and wondering what if and why.

This is why I forgive you.... because my heart is too full of love and joy to carry anger and sadness. And I hope one day, you can let go of your anger and sadness and forgive who hurt you too.

Adoption. It is a beautiful thing. It really is. A selfless choice made by a biological mother to another woman yearning to be a mom.  Normally we hear the adoptive side. Almost everyone knows at least one person's adoption story or someone who was adopted.  But you never hear the biological story.  Something today just tugged on my heart and I wanted to write about my sweet nephew.

I'm the biological aunt so I only have that perspective.  I was there with my sister, Briana, through her pregnancy, I was in the OR when he was born. I got to hold him first and was the one to hand him to his adoptive mom, Natalie. Briana's story is different than mine. Natalie's story is different than mine but we are all on this incredible journey together - in different ways - but together.

Adoption really has a negative stigma towards the biological parent. They are viewed as selfish people who "give" their child up. But I can 100% tell you, that was NOT the case with Calvin.  Briana was not in a good place at all when she became pregnant, it was a scary time for her. Adoption wasn't her first option, but neither was parenting. In God's fate, her plan of choice didn't work out or become something that was able to happen. So as a family, we supported her decision of adoption. I wasn't her voice of reason in choosing a family, I wasn't there for conversations with the social worker. I was there for support, I was there to help get to doctor's appointments. I was there for kicks and movement. I was there to rub her belly and let him know how much he was loved. And at the time, we had Brittani, Briana, and Brystin ... the three Bs, so it was only appropriate this baby boy had a B nickname and for some reason, I just gravitated towards calling him my little biscuit.

Briana was really excited about an adoptive family she had found.  They were a biracial couple that she thought was the best situation because the baby is biracial. Hearing her talk to this family, I saw a positive relief in my sister that she just knew this was the best place for her baby.  They discussed names, birth plans, nurseries, all the fun stuff.  This couple didn't have any children of their own but had always longed for a child. It was a perfect fit. I will never forget the day, 5 weeks before her due date, my sister got the call that the adoptive family had missed a signature on a paper and it wasn't turned in on time for the family to proceed further in the adoption process. Briana was devastated and went back to a "what now." Here we were, 5 weeks from a baby being born, the plan was for him to be adopted so there was nothing ready to bring a baby home. We prayed and gathered around her, remaining positive that a miracle would happen.

And that's when it did. Two weeks later, Briana showed up to my work with great news.  They had been matched with a family in Baltimore. The couple was Natalie and Frank. They didn't have kids, but had tried for over 10 years to no avail. Briana said Natalie's story of infertility was similar to the struggle my husband and I had gone through previously.  Briana's face lit up as she spoke of Natalie and telling me that they were supposed to adopt a baby prior, had the nursery ready only for the mom to back out 2 days after the baby was born. And in their home, that nursery door had remained shut until now. Natalie and Frank. I remember the first time talking to them on the phone, they were so hopeful and optimistic but stayed guarded because of what happened before. I loved talking to them and getting to know them.  They came into town a few days before the c-section. We went out to dinner at the Golden Corral (because super preggo wanted the buffet.) I'm so grateful that I was included on this time and had a chance to get to know them. 

​They had chose the name Calvin because of Cal Ripken Jr and how baseball was a huge part of Baltimore.  So he became my little Calbiscuit. 

Calvin Jude was born the next morning on May 28, 2014. He was perfect. As the nurse was cleaning him up, I could hear him crying and fussing, so i walked over to him and said "what's the matter my little Calbiscuit?" he turned his head towards me and stopped fussing. My heart just sank. I was so in love with this little person.  In that moment, the future and what was going to happen over the next few days - it was irrelevant. Because right here, right now, in this moment. It was my little Calbiscuit and I.  This was my little dude, and no matter the distance, he will always be my little dude.

They had me wheel him out of the OR to start skin to skin with his adoptive mommy. I will never forget coming through the OR doors to see Natalie and Frank standing there. 
"Hi Momma!" Were the first words I said, and Natalie's reaction was something I will never ever ever forget. It still makes me cry. Her joy, the tears. This moment she had longed for for so long. I'm so honored that I could be apart of that. For me in that moment, I couldn't think of anything else except God gave them Calvin. Briana assisted in the miracle. I just stood on the sidelines for support. But ultimately this child was chosen by God for Natalie and Frank, and her first reaction to seeing this child. No words can explain. 

I went home to rest and let Briana rest, and Natalie and Frank bond with their sweet new baby boy. And just letting the four of them have time together.  Later that night when I brought Brystin up to meet his new cousin, I could hear Calvin fussing from the hallway. As soon as I walked in the room, he got quiet and turned towards me. As if he knew me. I didn't see it but Natalie told me it was amazing to see how he reacted towards my voice, and that he knew me. The few short days were a whirlwind, I tried to spend as much time with Calvin, Natalie and Frank as I could. Even though it is an open adoption, you never really know how visits are going to play out or the frequency. And being the aunt, I'm not expecting to be the priority of people who get to see him. I soaked it in, minute by minute, every snuggle I could get with him. I felt a love for this little boy, that I hadn't felt. A lot of people questioned why I spent so much time with him, knowing he was going to be leaving, given the circumstance. I don't regret any second I spent with him. We bonded and looking back, I'm so glad I got to spend as much time him and his family as possible.

Eventually, papers were signed. Briana was released from the hospital, Calvin went back to Maryland with Natalie and Frank. I'm forever grateful for the openness of Natalie's heart, that she has allowed an unlimited amount of communication between us. She would send texts and pictures, communicate about things going on in his life and his milestones.  We've truly blessed to be apart of Calvin's life.

December 2016, I was able to visit with Calvin for the first time since he had been born.  Brystin was over the moon ecstatic to see him.  By then, we had Arzola(who ironically was born one year and one day after Calvin), and I was 9 months pregnant with Milena. Seeing the kids play together and run around Chuck E Cheese, was something I never thought would ever happen. But  we all just clicked like there was never any time or distance. 

Natalie and Frank made the courageous choice to raise Calvin to understand he is adopted, and that adoption is the amazing tie that makes us family instead of an unsettling secret that will come out later. My favorite thing is to see this saying that Natalie and Calvin do.... "I am adopted. I am a friend. I am kind. I am loved" it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. They are raising him to know he was loved all around, and that he came from Briana's belly(and he asks "so i was covered in food?") and that Briana is my sister and that is why I am aunt Brittani. And that Brystin, Arzola and Milena are cousins. Obviously, at 3, almost 4, he doesn't understand fully but I love that as he grows up, he will have ties with his biological family and know that he is so so so so so so loved.

Ultimately, it's not the DNA. It's the love that makes us family. Our unique bond is our normal, I'm excited to navigate this normal and go on this adventure. I feel beyond blessed that Natalie and Frank allow my kids and I to be a part of Calvin's life. What people from the outside don't understand about adoption is that, it's not just giving up a child. It's not a selfish choice. Choosing to place isn't for the weak.  It's realizing that it takes more than love to raise a child, and selflessly giving a loving family a gift. Calvin is a gift. Briana made a selfless choice out of love. Natalie made the selfless choice to love a child not formed in her womb.  I don't think adoption is a choice, I think it's God's plan. And God gave them Calvin. Briana misses Calvin a lot and would have kept him if she was in the right place in life, but she did the right thing. Calvin is in the best home, with the best family possible.  Briana gave him the greatest gift because she loved him. 

Briana and Natalie would have a different side and a different story, but as a biological aunt, that's mine. I love that little boy in a way that can't be measured. I look at Natalie and Frank as my own family that has been around my whole life. (my kids even refer to them as Aunt Natalie and Uncle Frank.) I love through texting and social media, we can be included in his life and milestones. I can't express enough how much I appreciate the openness Natalie and Frank have for Calvin to know his biological roots. Briana made the most selfless choice because she loves him, and I think that is something we ALL need to understand about biological moms.  These choices aren't made because they don't want them or love them... it's because we want them to have more than we can offer, we know they deserve more and because we love them more than they will ever be able to imagine. 

Today is National Woman's Day... and I want to shout out to all the courageous women that are on this crazy life adventure through the gift of adoption - whether on the biological side or adoptive side. May you all know that you are stronger than you can imagine and carry more love than you can measure. <3

"Why are you going to Disney? He won't remember."
"Why are you spending so much money on this party? She won't remember it."
"You really don't have to get her anything for Christmas, she won't remember."

Raise your hand if you have heard that statement. They won't remember.
Why do people feel the need to shame and place judgement on those of us that want to make memories that we WILL remember. It always gets under my skin.

If you DON'T want to do something because your kid won't remember, then that's fine. That is on you.  But DON'T put down someone else that wants to create those memories. 
You know what I have to say about that party, vacation, gift.... DO IT!!!!!

Let's talk the first birthday party. Why not go big? A first birthday is a chance to celebrate that big life adventure you just went through! And a way to celebrate with everyone that supported you, stuck by you, encouraged you - I mean the least you can do is invite them for food and cake, as a thank you, right? And why wouldn't you want to celebrate that little life you created and all the milestones they reach in that first year! Think about it, being a baby is physically hard work. You go from being a nugget curled up in your momma's tummy to having to learn how to eat, nurse, sit, crawl, walk,  jump, run. Why wouldn't you want to celebrate that little person in a big way?! WHO CARES IF THEY WON'T REMEMBER. YOU WILL! YOUR FAMILY WILL! YOUR FRIENDS WILL! Do it big, that little person deserves it. All three of my kids had a big bash for their first birthday, because they deserve to be celebrated! It's totally fine if they don't remember, because you will. And that's all that matters. And you never know if they will make it to the next birthday or not, you can hope they do, but nothing is guaranteed. So celebrate and DON'T let anyone shame you for doing it. They don't have to come. 

Or that big vacation? Why not. We like to vacation before kids, so why not include them in your life and your trip. And let me fill you in on a secret --- if you don't take your kids, you get mom shamed over that too. So plan that trip, take that little tot to Disney. WHO CARES! There is something about the magic of Disney that happens in the moment, and even if your child doesn't remember - YOU WILL! My daughter lit up in a way I had never seen before when she met Doc McStuffins, and it's okay with me if she doesn't remember it, I do. And I'll always remember that moment and will always be able to tell her about it.  What if you never take that trip, and then something happens and you never get a chance to take that trip. DO IT! TAKE THAT TRIP! MAKE THOSE MEMORIES!

Don't spend your money on that gift. This isn't even a high ticket item. My son was 6 weeks old his first Christmas, and you know how much criticism I got for him having presents under the tree. It's okay that he doesn't remember that first Christmas because I do. And I loved holding him in my lap and opening gifts with him. But same for anything... put baby food in that little one's easter basket, wrap up pacifiers for baby's first Christmas. You celebrate that little person with whatever gift you want to give! Ps. I bought my first daughter, her first Barbie when she was in my belly - i was excited. Yolo. 

All I'm saying is, there is no reason to put people down for wanting to make memories. All we have is today because tomorrow is never guaranteed, so do it. Live it up. Do it big. Do you know how much I would have missed and the stories I wouldn't have had I waited until "they remembered." I love that I can remember and that I have pictures of all the kiddos on their first birthday, first holidays, first vacations. These memories are amazing things.

And, yes, let people know.... "you are invited to the party my child won't remember." They can decline if they choose.
 You can always invite me, I'm here to celebrate everything your child won't remember, because mine won't remember it either... but we will :)

Blood, sweat and tears. Three words we use to describe something we put our all into. Our job, our house, building something, exercise, anything. Today, these three words had a new meaning for me,

For awhile, I had debated on writing and sharing anything. But after my tears today, it's time to get something of my chest.  It all started with a doctor's appointment mid January.  The nurse checked my weight: 131 lbs and BMI of 23.2. Not even a month before, it was 126 with a BMI of 21.83 Before you eye roll, hear me out and listen because what I'm about to get off my chest - it needs to be said, heard and shared. 

Yes, according to doctors and nutritionists, this is considered completely healthy and average. But to the demons in my mind, this is completely unacceptable. Seeing that number on the scale made the demons scream "fat ass" in my head, and I felt this sense of defeat. My whole body felt like it began to swell. I mean after all, this is EXACTLY why we removed all the scales in our house. And then it happened.... I relapsed.
(and now I'm crying)

The thing is when you have an Anorexia relapse, it isn't like relapsing into drugs and take that first hit. I'm convinced you don't even realize you have relapsed until something smacks you in the face and makes you notice what you've been doing. Since that appointment, I started exercising obsessively. I NEED to be at the gym and sweating until I can't walk. Some days I go twice. I even have a personal trainer I work with, who I was open and honest about when it came to my eating disorder.  He does a meal check with me before we start our work outs. I'm counting all my calories and purposely leaving my house without my wallet so I won't get tempted. SlimQuick pills... oh yeah, I got them. Probably my first purchase after I left the doctor, along with a scale.  Seeing that number on a scale broke me in more ways than I could have imagined or realized in that moment. In fact, I felt discouraged in that moment but didn't realize the wounds it would re-open.
I've battled anorexia my whole life, or at least since I could remember. I was bullied about it in middle school and high school. My senior year of high school, I was put on antidepressants and anxiety medicine, which made me gain weight. As people started COMPLIMENTING on how great I looked and how I was too skinny before, it made me realize there was a noticeable weight gain. That started my post graduation/college struggle. I was 98 pounds when I got pregnant with Brystin. I'm convinced that pregnancy saved my life.  But after he was born, those demons in my head came back, my body didn't bounce back the way I wanted it or expected it too.  But eventually, I was back down to 105 pounds.  I don't know what on set my eating disorder, or why.  I watched my mom constantly think she was fat and her weight fluctuate, so maybe it was something just etched in my brain. And if that is the case, that scares me for my daughters.  But I only heard words, if she counted calories or obsessively worked out, I never knew it.  Maybe it was being a gymnast, no one ever commented on my weight but it was very much a physically demanding sport.  Maybe it was a control thing, growing up in a broken family and going through a lot, maybe my anxiety and fears felt the only true control they had was over my eating. And those body demons.... they are vicious. If you've never fought with them, consider yourself lucky.
{I would just like to insert, if you are rolling your eyes or skinny shaming me in your head because I don't know what it's like to be "bigger" - please know that I admire you! Your curves, your beauty, the being comfortable in your own skin. You are amazing! And if you CAN'T relate to anything I'm saying, consider yourself lucky.}

Struggling from body dysmorphic disorder and an eating disorder, really isn't something to take lightly or joke about. It's not something you can tell someone "go eat a cheeseburger" and they'll get over it. Or calling them out for being too skinny... in fact when you do those things, it only makes the problem worse.  Or having an attitude while making comments such as "if i had a body like yours" or "you're so small, i don't understand what your issue is." DON'T body shame, it's just not okay. At that moment, we re-evaluate ourselves, our life, our bodies and face our biggest critic in the mirror. And let me tell you, that critic is not nice. That critic will make you regret even thinking of eating that cheeseburger. That critic will tell you that person lied to you and wants you to gain weight.  If your words aren't supportive, they will definitely send that struggling person in the wrong direction. So try to be helpful and less judgmental.  We have enough judgments going on in our head right now and don't need you to assist. Anorexia isn't a phase or a trend, or something fixed just by eating more and EVERYONE NEEDS TO KNOW THAT! It is a real problem. After it messes up our mind in ways that you can't imagine, it takes a toll on our bodies... and even if we go into recovery, some of those effects never truly go away.  For me, I'm always cold, my heart rate is slower than average, I'm anemic and no matter how much I moisturizes, parts of my skin are always dry. I'm very fatigued and forget a lot, I pretty much have chronic constipation and when it comes to pregnancy and hormones, where to begin with all the struggles. So before you critique someone, please try to understand. And DO NOT rolls your eyes and brush it off. If someone is really struggling, we need you to understand instead of tearing us down. Again - we DO NOT need your body shaming. You never know the battle someone is fighting internally.

So today, my blood, sweat and tears. I was going to the gym, and my nose would not stop bleeding. I was diagnosed not too long ago with a blood disorder that prevents my blood from clotting, which would probably explain the fact why my nose would not stop.  For weeks, I've been pushing myself to the point I'm almost puking or passing out - everyday. Go hard or go home, right?! I've been tracking every calorie. Every time I eat something, the demonic brain critics like to call me a fat ass with each bite I take. I was in my HIIT class that is super intense, the instructor is such a beast but she is my spirit animal. We're down doing burpees with weights and mountain climbers. Then she yells out "keep going! you got this! remember why you are doing this! why are you pushing yourself?" just then images of my kids, the scale, that cookie I ate yesterday and the demon comes back and says "you're a fat ass." Let me tell you, this voice is distinctive voice, one I wish I didn't hear but somehow it always manages to run on repeat. Hearing that voice, my eyes instantly filled with tears and sweat, blood, and these tears ran down my face. I started to feel my body give out and that's when yelled back "I'm not a fat ass!" *breath* "you got this!" and just felt the tears come. And they didn't stop. Luckily the music was so loud, and everyone was pep talking themselves that no one paid any mind to my self encouragement. It was the most empowering feeling to keep going when my mind was trying to bring me down. The tears only made me stronger.

Looking at the relapse sign chart, for a long time I thought I was living in the "green" but now I'm realizing that I have relapsed and I'm in between that red and yellow. It is scary, it is draining but it can get better. Right now, I even though I feel in control, I'm not. Every meal and drink is calorie counted and track on an app before I even taste it.  Every exercise and activity is logged immediately. Today, though, was my first step in reclaiming my mind and thoughts. I have so much to live and be healthy for. I can be more than my eating disorder, and though recovering is a long and hard process, I can get there. And I can there with love and support... and without cheeseburgers.  For now, the first step to quitting is admitting, and I'm admitting that I am in the midst of a relapse.  And it's best to be frustratedly patient with me. You can't force help on someone that doesn't want it, and I'm just trying to take it a day at a time. This post doesn't have an inspirational turning point of a new found recovery, nor is it to send sympathy my way - I don't want it.  But it's to let you into the beautiful mind of someone struggling with anorexia.  I've realized my goal weight isn't a number on a scale but the weight of my thoughts and how much of them I can control. But until then, unfortunately, I'm still struggling....

​

"You're about six weeks pregnant" is the diagnosis I was given sitting in a cold ER room on an October afternoon.
"But you're getting divorced" my mom said to me as she sat in the chair next to the hospital bed. Not her words verbatim, but a way to put it nicely. The nurse ignored her. "It looks like your conception date would have been around September 5" - my husband's birthday, and not even a week after we had decided to give our marriage another try.

It was the infertility that had broken our marriage.

When Pj and I had started realizing there was a future for us, we discussed how kids were something we wanted.  Having a son from a previous relationship, I longed for a daughter and the desire to create a life with my husband. We started trying immediately upon getting married. Brystin was 3 when we got married and we wanted our kids close in age. As Pj put it, he wanted to marry me now to date me later - basically saying were going to pop our kids out now and close together so once they are grown we can enjoy our time together.

It was so exciting at first! Being excited, browsing baby shops, thinking of should i start my stock pile on diapers and soap yet?! Three months later, still not pregnant, I decided to start tracking and talking to the doctor about the natural family planning to increase my chances of getting pregnant. This is probably where it all started to go down hill. It became all about the charting and the tracking. Peeing on an ovulation test everyday.  The one day the ovulation test was positive and it was like i had never received good news in my life.  My husband came home from work and there was no "hello" exchanged, he wasn't in the door for 5 seconds and I told him that he had too because the ovulation test was positive. I was so sure that was the month. Only to be disappointed two weeks later.

Everyone kept telling me just to relax and give it time. We had only started trying. By now it was going on six months.  I had joined blogs and community boards, suddenly i didn't feel so alone. But I also couldn't go a day without spending hours on there. Grieving with other moms, sharing in the sadness and let down of the desire to have another baby.... just to see another pregnancy announcement.

Six months into trying, I was 2 weeks late, nauseous and very tired and on edge. I bought a pregnancy test thinking this had to be it, only for the lines not to show up. Weird, right?! How does a pregnancy test malfunction?!  The next day I woke up with really bad cramping and some odd color spotting, so I called my OB and went in. Upon an exam, I was informed that "miscarriages are common and infertility happens" and that "it was very probable I had miscarried." What made this news worse was the fact that my younger sister was pregnant and sitting in the waiting room, annoyed that my appointment was taking so long.  The doctor had a conversation with me saying that after 6 months of not getting pregant while actively trying that it is considered infertility, and having endometriosis and PCOS would only make it harder and possible cause more losses. He put me on progesterone to help regulate my body to increase our chances. But after 6 months and a probable loss, I already felt defeated.

The depression started to be more than I could take.  I was angry. I was annoyed. and I was starting to feel alone. Everyone gave me their "words of comfort":
"at least you already have a son"
"be grateful for what you have"
"some people try for years and years"
"you can always adopt"
"there are plenty of kids in foster care"
"just enjoy this time with your husband"
oh yeah, and I think my favorite line came from a family member who suggested we stop trying because they were having blood work done to test for some illness and if the test was positive, it was a hereditary illness and our unborn child would more than likely need a blood transfusion.

or my other favorite line... when I was trying to tell my sister about the reality of having a child, she said "you're just jealous"

okay! let's stop for a moment.... NONE of those are acceptable things to say to anyone who is trying... whether it has been a day, week, month, year, or decade. And it doesn't matter if it's their first baby or their 5th. The desire to carry a child and a bring a new life into this world is a heart's desire that can't be measured, and if you can't relate to the struggle, kindly keep your comments to yourself because you have no idea.

Nine months had passed since we started trying, and my doctor recommended a laparoscopy, just to go in and clean everything out.  The procedure was quick. I was in and out in an hour. Going home, I had high hopes that now it was going to be much easier.  It was like this new found confidence and I felt refreshed as in the surgery was the answer.  Until a week later, I woke up in the middle of the night in excruciating pain. I couldn't even stand up. I fell on the floor and couldn't move and screamed for my husband. It resulted in calling 911 and being rushed to the ER. I had clotted in my ovaries, and the cysts and inflammation were back and worse than ever. ((Medical lesson: if you aren't familiar, results from the laparoscopy procedure should last for at least 6 months. Once you're cleaned out, it should take a minimum of 6 months of everything to come back if it does... so this, this was not normal.)) I was sent home on more pain killers, and a follow up doctor appointment for the next day.  

My mom took me to my appointment the next day.  I was the only non pregnant lady in the room. Tearfully, I sat and watched couples coo over their ultrasound pictures, or moms to be rubbing their growing bump. My mom could sense my angst sitting there, as soon as she asked if I was okay, in a loud tone, I cried out "why can't they have a separate waiting room for people struggling with infertility. The last thing I want to do is sit here with a bunch of preggos. It's not fair." I placed my head in my hands and sobbed, and secretly judged everyone in that room.   Embarrassed my mom went up to the receptionist and asked how soon it was until I got to go back because I was having a break down. Once the doctor took me back, she talked to me about anti-depressants and referred me to Reproductive Gynecology.  With my cysts and extra tissue coming back so fast, it was going to be harder than expected for me to get pregnant.

I don't want to get into my experience with them because it wasn't a good one.  I felt they were rude and not clear of their processes. Apparently there is a wrong way to have sex when you are trying to get pregnant? Who knew?! And apparently you also have to pattern your days for sperm reproduction? News to me too. Weird. The only positive news we got from them was that the problem wasn't my husband, it was me. My body, my uterus, my crazy cyst-infested ovaries, my endometriosis. I felt like a failure. And more confused than ever. 
My PCOS and cysts were discovered when I was 15.
Diagnosed with endometriosis at 19, and was told I would never be able to carry a baby full term, and that I had a very high chance of a hysterectomy by the age of 22. But at 21, I got pregnant and carried a high risk pregnancy to term.
I was an unmarried college student, still living at home with no real goal in life.  How could I get pregnant then? I had done everything right this time - finished college, had a full time job, got married, lived on my own... why can't I get pregnant now?!

Almost a year into trying, I was denying baby shower invites, deleting pregnant friends off facebook and going off on any pregnant person that complained.  I'm sorry, I just couldn't share in the happiness. People were more insensitive than ever to our struggle. As I became open about our struggle, my husband kept more to himself.  We began fighting more and if an ovulation time came and he wasn't in the mood, there was a wrath in our house that couldn't be contained.  I became all consumed in this depression and negativity. As my sisters due date approached, I wanted nothing to do with her. I couldn't even stomach to talk to her. My mom and grandma had multiple conversations with me about how hard this was for them.. to try to be happy for my sister and be supportive and sensitive to me.   I couldn't understand how my sister who was homeless, jobless, a high school drop out pregnant with her best friend's boyfriend's baby could be so blessed, but my husband and I had been struggling for a year.  

Thirteen months into trying, I woke up one morning with really, really painful cramping and when I went to the bathroom, there were clumps. This wasn't normal so I called the doctor. They had me come in right away. A negative pregnancy test, a little higher than average hormone levels.  The doctor gave me an exam and got a concern look on his face. He sent me immediately back from an ultrasound. The worst was confirmed, we had suffered a loss. I sobbed and couldn't understand. A year in and 2 losses. I just didn't get it. Pj was very stoic about everything, at this point, he just wanted his normal wife back. He had lost his wife to this never ending obsession of trying to get pregnant. I had lost myself. I didn't know how to come back from this depression. I just wanted to start our own biological family with my husband.

Our happy home was now a personal hell. I can't explain every emotion that I felt - and i'm sure the emotional roller coaster was just amped up even more by all the different hormones they had me on. By this time, there was blood work, shots, constant doctor appointments. Blood work after blood work, shot after shot, test after test, more medicine. In the midst of my depression, remember that family member that encouraged us to stop trying?! She was now pregnant. And super insensitive to what I was going through.  She also couldn't understand why we couldn't be happy for her. The pain in my heart was real. And to be honest, I felt betrayed. To encourage us to stop because of an illness she was being tested for, and then she got pregnant?! I couldn't wrap my head around it. And it created a house divided. With that pregnancy announcement and my sister's due date quickly approaching, I was just overwhelmed.  I felt this grief and hatred. How could the two people that were insensitive to me the most be the ones to get the blessing I was praying for?! 
(Side note: my nephew was born a week later and I was absolutely in love with him, and still am!)

To say, I lost my mind that night would be an understatement. I had completely lost it. I couldn't breath, I couldn't think. My emotions raged and got the best of me.  Even my support person couldn't calm me down. I was over it. And after that breakdown, my husband was over it too. 

My husband started working later, talking to me less, not paying attention to me. The marriage was over. The love was gone. Something that was supposed to bring us together had ripped us apart. We started talking about divorce and separating.  Everything was just getting to be too much. We split for a week to give each other space, he went to Cleveland, I went to Florida. Even though we had decided to stay together, things weren't the same. Our relationship wasn't the same. We weren't close.

Fifteen months into trying, the doctor gave us rounds of clomid. The clomid made me so sick and was so painful. But a few weeks and a negative test later, my husband left.  
"You're just a horrible, miserable person. And you're so ugly to me" those words will haunt me for the rest of my life. But in that moment, I was. I really was.  That was everything the past 16 months had turned me into. I was bitter, I was angry, I wasn't myself. I had lost myself and my marriage to a hope that turned into an obsession. And it was out of control, I was out of control. I couldn't fathom how it all had gone downhill or where it started to go wrong and if I could have changed it, I would have.  
(Even looking back now, I'm so embarrassed and I can't apologize enough to those around me that I hurt.)

When Pj moved out, it was the eye opener that I needed to get myself together.  I started counseling and instead of focusing on getting pregnant, it was focusing on managing my cysts and endometriosis.  A few other health issues were discovered too, biopsies and blood work, surgery and treatment. Though Pj and I didn't live together, we weren't completely apart. We still spent weekends, holidays, and random times together. We were attempting to start over.  We weren't actively trying anymore but we weren't preventing it either.  Each month we would have a talk about if I were to end up pregnant. The more that I started to get better and feel better, the less heartbreaking it was each month when the test was negative and that monthly friend showed up. 

27 months into trying and still nothing, I filed for divorce. He didn't want to move back home, the infertility had just destroyed us.  There was nothing left. Maybe living separate we both held on to the hope that something would happen. A baby, a reconciliation. But it was done, it was over. Obviously the infertility rattled a foundation that wasn't strong enough to survive the toughest storms.  I was devastated and felt like I had wasted the past few years of my life.  And accepting the fact that life was just going to be Brystin and I was a reality I needed to face. The battle was over, and we lost. 

When we had our first divorce hearing, it was rough. And the first time I had seen him in months. But there was something in that moment of seeing each other that clicked. Did we really want to do this?! We started talking after the hearing, and decided to take it slow. I didn't want to try for a baby anymore, I just wanted to focus on myself, repairing my marriage and broken relationships, and getting ready for my little boy to start kindergarten. I had enrolled back in school, I wanted to help people. I don't want people to go down the same path I did and self destruct and lose everything. After a month of talking, and apologizing we had our first face to face conversation and decided we will give it one last and final try. This was it. If we couldn't make it work then it was time to pull the plug. We started looking at small condos in downtown Cleveland or moving away to start over. It was going to just be the three of us, and for once in the past 3 years, I was okay with it. I felt a calm, one step at a time, and maybe a baby wasn't in God's plan for us. A few days later, we celebrated Pj's birthday and it was great to finally feel like a couple again. It was the first time we had been back out with our other "couple" friends, we did things we use to do and we were laughing and smiling again. 

We went away for my birthday, which ironically was a week before our final divorce hearing. We were still treading the water of what was the best decision for us. While we were away, I got sick. I couldn't breathe, I had a lot of pain and pressure on my chest. I was really weak and spent a lot of time sleeping. I remember sitting at breakfast and telling him something was wrong and didn't feel right. Was it my vertigo? Was it cancer? Was my PTSD causing a massive panic attack with our pending court date that would decide our future?! He rolled his eyes not taking how I was feeling seriously. When I got back home, I decided it was best to call the doctor as I struggled to breath. They sent me to the ER and my mom met me there. 
"Is there a chance you are pregnant?" the usual question that every female that has her cycle gets
"No. I don't think so"
"Okay, were going to run some tests and bloodwork and see what's going on" the doctor said and walked out. The nurses came in, did their check and bloodwork. Awhile later, the nurse came back in "you're about 6 weeks pregnant"
My mom and I were shocked. We had tried for so long and stopped, and now we got the news that I would have given anything to hear. I was shocked, when I told Pj, he was shocked. We went through a rough, high risk, and monitored pregnancy... and welcomed our much prayed and hoped for daughter on May 29, 2015.

She was born 3 years and 2 months after we had started trying. 

and surprise! 10 months later, we were pregnant again and welcomed our second daughter January 6, 2017.

Are we done?! I don't think my body can handle another pregnancy. We are happy with our family the way it is. If we get blessed with another baby down the road, then it's a blessing. But if this is God's plan to stay the 5 of us, then I am completely okay with it. We will never go down the path of trying for a baby again, it's just too much and we've been blessed beyond measure. Our girls were definitely worth the wait and the struggle.... the struggle that was all too real....