01/09 Chapter 305: This is our place
And the day to leave finally came—the day I’d been dreading.
We woke up super early, and by 6:30 AM, Christine was already at the door, ready to go. We took two cars: one that I had borrowed from them and Camila’s mother-in-law’s car.
When we got to Camila’s, we were pretty delayed because we were weighing the bags. My dad got really upset since only Camila’s husband was helping him load the luggage, even though my dad’s getting older. Meanwhile, your dad didn’t offer to help because he was too busy worrying about giving you medicine that wasn’t even the antibiotic. It could’ve waited, right? He could’ve given it to you at the airport. But anyway, I didn’t get involved and let my dad be annoyed with him.
After a lot of back-and-forth, we finally got on the road. Once again, Matt’s family saved the day, helping us out with three cars to carry us and all the luggage, which saved us quite a bit on Uber costs.
At the airport, the stress kicked in immediately. We stood in line forever because there were only two American Airlines agents, and one of them had been with a couple for over an hour. I get it—they had to solve their issue, but while that was happening, the line kept growing, and no one else was brought in to help. American Airlines is by far the worst airline I’ve ever flown with.
We asked one of the staff if we had any priority since we had a baby, and she said we would only get priority if we had a stroller. What’s the logic in that? We don’t bring a stroller on purpose, just to avoid the hassle of picking it up here and checking it in there—less stress. That doesn’t mean you're not a baby. The rule makes no sense. They might as well just say there’s no priority and be done with it. After all, the U.S. isn’t like Brazil, where there are priorities for everything, from pregnant women to the elderly and babies. Here, it’s usually just people with disabilities, and that’s fine—it’s the rule of the country. But saying you only get priority with a stroller? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.
So, we had to wait in the regular line, and time kept ticking by until it was almost time to board.
When it was finally our turn, of course, we got the worst of the two agents. She was new and learning, and oh my, was she slow! My dad was already getting frustrated. It’s amazing—every time we travel together, something happens to set him off. But when it’s just me and your dad, nothing ever goes wrong. It’s like the universe is out to test my dad’s patience. He was already giving us that look like he knew we should’ve arrived at the airport way earlier.
My dad always arrives super early at the airport to avoid any hassles and to make sure we have plenty of time, just in case something goes wrong. But since San Diego is a small airport where we’ve never had any issues, we didn’t expect this to happen.
Time was ticking away, tick-tock, tick-tock, and the woman at the check-in counter was still struggling with our reservation. When it was finally my turn, another lady came over to help because of the delay, and then she told me you weren’t entitled to checked baggage. At that point, I lost my cool. I’m usually a calm person, but when someone pushes my buttons, I don’t even recognize myself—I go from friendly Natascha to a whole different person.
I immediately pushed back, saying that wasn’t true, and that I was told over the phone you were entitled to a checked bag. She insisted that since you weren’t paying for a seat and were flying on my lap, you didn’t get a bag. I told her you had paid 10% of the ticket fare and were definitely allowed a checked bag, and that American Airlines needed to get their employees on the same page because I wasn’t going to pay for something I’d been told was free.
At that point, an arabic agent—who seemed to be the problem-solver, came over to see what was going on because things were getting heated. She checked the computer, looked at the woman who’d been arguing with me, and confirmed that you were indeed entitled to a checked bag.
How is it possible that American Airlines employees can each give you completely different information? The first person I spoke to on the phone told me one thing, the second said the complete opposite, and the third finally agreed with the first. It's ridiculous! If that last attendant hadn’t stepped in to help, I would've had to pay $100—which, in our currency, is nearly R$600—to check a bag that you were already entitled to, and the other agent just didn’t know, for who knows what reason. I swear on everything holy that I will always avoid flying with American Airlines from now on. Not just because their staff can't give consistent information, but also because of the plane itself: the entertainment screens have no games, the legroom is terrible, and the food is the worst of all airlines. They didn’t even serve breakfast this time—just gave us some yogurt and granola. You pay a fortune for a ticket, and they give you yogurt for breakfast? Give me a break! Not to mention, the meals they do serve taste awful, with tough meat. What are they charging an extra $200 for when it comes to meals? They're shameless, only thinking about profit.
Anyway, we finally sorted out the whole baggage mess, and I thanked the last attendant a lot. But I should’ve said something like, 'You all should really communicate better so this doesn’t happen.' I should’ve called out the second attendant who was arguing with me and asked, 'So, do you have anything to say now? An apology, maybe?' But I decided not to push my luck—we were already running late. So we rushed off.
Just before heading to immigration, my dad said he wanted to have a smoke, and your dad and I almost had a heart attack! We told him there was no time. He looked at his watch and thought we had another hour, but my mom’s watch was slow. When he realized it was actually time to board, he completely forgot about his cigarette.
And so, when we finally made it to the gate, guess what? They were already boarding. If we’d taken even a little longer, we would’ve missed the flight. Can you imagine if your grandfather had gone through the same ordeal he did in Orlando on his second trip? I’m sure he would’ve sworn off traveling for good.
So we boarded our flight to Dallas, and you managed to catch a bit of sleep on the plane. Honestly, I thought you’d be out the whole time since you woke up super early today and aren’t really used to it.
Once we arrived in Dallas, the time flew by—mainly because the airport is HUGE and has a train that whisks you from one gate to another.
When we finally got to our destination, we headed straight to McDonald's (the Chick-fil-A was closed, apparently they shut down on Mondays). We were running around with you, taking turns watching you while the other one ate. Before we knew it, it was time to board, and since it's an international flight, they start boarding pretty early. Plus, we always got to board first with you, which is a huge bonus!
Oh, and before we boarded, you had a blast in the nursing room. It had air conditioning, comfy chairs, and animal-themed wallpaper. You kept bringing different people over to show them that cozy little spot and hang out with you. Sometimes it was me, sometimes your dad, your grandma, or your grandpa.
As soon as we finally boarded the plane, you fell into a deep sleep. I thought to myself, “Why not let her sleep? She’s so tired; maybe she’ll sleep through the whole nine hours.” But that turned out to be a big mistake for me and your dad. Your grandma even warned us to keep you entertained a bit longer, at least until dinner was served, but we didn’t listen—and boy, did we regret it! I can honestly say it was the toughest flight for me in terms of exhaustion because you woke up after just one or two hours and took nearly FOUR hours to doze off again.
All we wanted was to catch some sleep, but apparently, that was the last thing on your mind. So, we went from mommy’s lap to daddy’s lap, then grandma’s lap. There were squeals of joy on the plane and cartoon time while the rest of the passengers were trying to sleep. I was on the edge of exhaustion when, like a superhero, my mom took you in her arms and, after all that effort, finally got you to sleep, so that I could get at least a little bit of rest.
02/09 Chapter 306: You gotta go there to come back
When my mom finally got you to sleep, I managed to rest a bit. It’s so uncomfortable sleeping on a plane, though—no matter how long you sleep, it feels like you didn’t sleep at all. Your whole body ends up feeling awkward and sore, and the exhaustion just piles on.
Your dad had it easy, though. You never want to be with him, so he got to sleep peacefully.
Unlike our usual trips with you, this one hit me hard because you stayed awake for so many hours. Just as they were serving breakfast, right before landing, my mom handed you over to me because she wanted to grab some coffee. They’d put my coffee on the tray since you were on your grandma’s lap, but when she passed you to me, you accidentally knocked over the hot coffee all over me.
I can’t even explain what happened—it all felt like a blur. Suddenly, I just felt my skin burning, stinging, and I couldn’t figure out what was going on. I didn’t even remember there was coffee on the tray, so it took me a few seconds to realize what was happening. Honestly, I was in shock.
My entire left leg was burning, and my left foot was throbbing with pain. What kind of pain was that?
Once I realized it was the coffee burning me, I started crying and kind of yelling—yeah, on the plane! I didn’t care, I was in pain!
They handed you off to my dad, but you saw me upset and crying, so of course, you got upset too. You could see that I was hurting, and you got so, so worried.
Your dad was confused at first; he thought it had something to do with my tailbone since I’d been in pain lately. He didn’t understand what was going on either, so he came over to help me.
At first, I was really upset with your grandma because she passed you to me so quickly, and that’s when everything spilled. I know I shouldn’t have snapped at her, but the pain was so intense that I wasn’t thinking straight. It wasn’t her fault—it was just an accident. I could tell she felt guilty, though, because seeing her daughter in so much pain from something that wasn’t intentional was tough for her. She didn’t say anything, but I know she was upset by the whole situation.
I was in so much pain, honestly one of the worst I’ve ever felt. The coffee was literally scalding hot.
Several flight attendants quickly came over to check if I was okay, asking if I needed anything. They mentioned to your dad that the coffee had just been made, so it was extremely hot that day. They brought me some ice and kept checking on me.
One of the flight attendants even apologized, saying that they used to have first-aid kits for these types of accidents, but now they don’t even carry that anymore. She explained that I wasn’t the only one this had happened to, as turbulence has caused similar situations for other passengers. It’s frustrating how airlines just want our money but give us worse service every day. That’s what really gets me.
Before the accident, your dad had been acting extra nice to me, and I found it a bit strange. When it was time to leave the plane, he insisted on getting me a wheelchair because my foot hurt so much. My parents couldn’t believe it, because honestly, I didn’t really need it—I was limping more from the burn than because it hurt to walk. But I thought it was sweet that he was so concerned and wanted to make sure I had everything I needed, even if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. And I’ll tell you what: being wheeled around the airport wasn’t bad at all! I left the plane in the wheelchair and was taken straight to the exit. Plus, going through immigration was a breeze—they’re less likely to stop you when you’re in a wheelchair, which was great. Not that I was worried about being stopped, since we weren’t carrying anything questionable. It was the first time I honestly didn’t care if we got stopped or not. I just wanted to get home and sleep—I was exhausted. We even paid Pietra to watch you at home, just in case you didn’t sleep, so that your dad and I could get some rest. San Diego is such a long, tiring trip, even though we cut some travel time by going through Dallas instead of directly through Los Angeles.
Your grandpa’s half-brother came to pick us up. At first, he barely looked at us, but later my mom gave me a little talking-to, saying we should have greeted him and thanked him for coming to get us. She also mentioned that maybe he was shy or thought I didn’t like him. You know the story—his mom married my grandpa after he left my grandma while they were still married, so maybe he thought I had something against him. But that’s not true. When we got out of the car, I thanked him and started a conversation, and he totally opened up. He was much friendlier after that. Maybe he really did feel uncomfortable around me, thinking I had an issue with him, which I don’t. I don’t even hold anything against his mom. My frustration is more with my grandpa for what he did, but even that’s not really my business.
I know we didn’t really get much use out of Pietra today, since your dad, you, and I ended up sleeping the whole afternoon together. So, you barely spent any time with her. But hey, it’s better to have her and not need her than to need her and not have her!
I just know that stepping back into this country, one I can’t stand, hit me hard. Leaving paradise to return to what feels like hell is not easy. But I guess I have to be here to finally come back, right?
02/09 Chapter 306: If tomorrow never comes
I’ve been running around trying to organize the three bags of merchandise I brought back—over 60 kilos! I need to sort everything into packages and ship them to customers, so I’ve been constantly going back and forth between the apartment and my parents' house.
As for your dad, he’s rushing to get more tattoo clients before he leaves for Barcelona. He’s flying out on the 10th and won’t be back until October 1st, so we’ll be without him for a little while. He really wanted to practice more before he leaves, and honestly, I’m one of the most invested in this too. I’m always trying to find contacts for him because the more he practices, the closer we get to finally opening our dream business in the U.S.—and one step closer to leaving here.
You’re finally going back to school soon, but your dad asked that you stay home this week so he can spend a little more time with you before he goes. But knowing him, I figured he wouldn’t be with you every moment, even though he wanted to spend time with you. So, I arranged for Pietra to come and spend the last bit of the week with you before our routine returns to normal and you head back to school.
Right after we got back from the trip, yesterday, I ended up going to the hospital that same night, just after we woke up. I had been feeling a lot of pain in my tailbone, even before we went to San Diego. I thought it was something temporary that would go away, but it didn’t. So, I went to the hospital, and thank God I was sent to the orthopedic department because the general clinic was packed!
Once there, I explained to the doctor what was going on, and she ordered an X-ray. I had a feeling something would be off because the pain was intense, so I knew something wasn’t right. When the X-ray results came back, she told me there was indeed a problem—it looked like there was a fracture. But she couldn’t figure out why, since I hadn’t had any injuries or falls. So, she sent me for a CT scan to investigate further.
I got a little scared because it’s always worrying when something shows up and the doctor can’t explain what it is. I went for the CT scan, which took forever, and the whole time I was nervous about what the results might show.
The doctor told me to go back to her as soon as the CT was done so she could check the images without waiting for the full report. When I couldn’t find her in the room where she’d examined me, I searched for her, found her, and showed her the results. She said she’d consulted with a colleague in orthopedics, and he mentioned that he’d seen a case like this before. It appeared to be a fracture, but without any injury, he thought it could be an infection—something similar had happened in a case he knew. She suggested I see a proctologist as soon as possible.
At first, I was already nervous about the results, especially since no one could understand what was going on. It’s rare to have a fracture without a fall, and rare things always seem to happen to me... But I also felt the doctor was quite young and maybe not very experienced, so I didn’t want to panic over a diagnosis from someone who might not be fully sure of what she was saying.
Secondly, I found it really strange that she referred me to a proctologist. As far as I know, a proctologist deals with the anal area, hemorrhoids, and such. And while the tailbone is close to that area, it’s still a bone issue—something an orthopedic specialist should handle, right? But I’ll follow her advice. I’m going to schedule an appointment with the proctologist we know, the one who did my sister’s hemorrhoid surgery. I’ll take all the test results and explain what’s been happening. But I can’t help but feel anxious about all this. When doctors don’t fully understand something, it’s always a bit worrying, especially when it’s something rare.
As a mother, the first thought that crosses your mind is always your child—in my case, you. I think: if something serious is wrong with me, will my daughter suffer from missing me? And if so, for how long? Will her dad take her overseas, and will my parents lose not just their daughter, but also their granddaughter, barely seeing her? What will her life be like in Europe with that strict aunt and a life full of rules? You can’t help but think about your child’s future if you're not there. And I couldn’t stop thinking about it. What if something happens to me? What if there’s no tomorrow?
Now, I need to schedule the appointment and hope everything turns out fine. First, it was the scare with the dizziness I was having, which luckily turned out okay thanks to the right doctor at the right time. Now, could this tailbone issue be something serious? It almost feels like the universe is playing a cruel joke.
03-04/09 Chapter 308: Hello darkness, my old friend
I can't pinpoint exactly what triggered it, or who it hit hardest, but for the past two days, I just haven’t been able to get out of bed.
I think my depression is back—and this time, it's hit me hard. What I can’t understand is why. I’ve been taking my antidepressants as prescribed, and the dosage is already pretty high. I’m left feeling confused. It’s that kind of depression that makes waking up impossible, the kind that I haven’t felt since 2009. So yeah, I’m really worried. Could it be because I returned from San Diego? The arguments with your father aren't helping either. Even he noticed and apologized, but this isn’t his fault. I’ve got this damn condition called depression, and every now and then, it wraps itself around me in a way I never see coming.
The first day we got back, I actually felt okay. But now, I feel like I’m just going through the motions, like a zombie.
Heavy heart, inability to move, sheer exhaustion, endless fatigue, loss of appetite, no motivation at all, and so much more.
Welcome back, depression.
05/09 Chapter 308: Hello darkness, my old friend
Yesterday, my mom and grandma came over, and they immediately noticed how worn out I looked. As we talked, we tried to figure out if anything had changed recently—besides, of course, the fact that I went from a place I love to one I can’t stand. But other than that, the only new thing was that I’ve been taking a medication called Trama, which is apparently a strong morphine-based drug for my tailbone pain. And I have to say, since I started taking it, I haven’t felt any pain in my coccyx.
My mom and grandma think that maybe the medication was contributing to how incapacitated I’ve been feeling. So, I decided to stop taking it yesterday—and believe it or not, today, I’m feeling much better.
Maybe it’s not depression after all. Maybe it really was the morphine-based medication that was dragging me down, making me unable to function. If that’s the case, it’s a much easier fix because the medicine is already out of the picture, way simpler than adjusting antidepressants or tweaking doses or switching meds altogether.
I’m not at 100%, but I can honestly say I feel about 70% better. So, it could be that there’s still a bit of the drug in my system, and once it clears out, I’ll be back to normal. Fingers crossed.
06/09 Chapter 310: Give me a reason to believe
Even though your dad and I have been having some really great days together—watching The Bachelorette again and having fun laughing at the show while baking cookies—we did have a serious conversation, your dad and I also had a tough conversation and decided it’s best if we separate. It’s especially important for me because I’ve always been stuck waiting for him to figure out what he wants, always waiting for his decision. This time, I didn’t want to wait anymore. I didn’t want to be anxious, hoping for something that might never happen. It’s better to end things now and maybe be surprised by something good than to keep waiting for an answer that might not come—and end up disappointed. Like I’ve told you before, it’s better to expect nothing from people and be pleasantly surprised than to expect something and be let down.
So, it was a difficult talk, but we both understood that we’re not making each other happy anymore. I’m not sure how we’ll work out things like the house, rent, or how this will all work now that we have a child, but we’ll figure it out. After all, we have a responsibility to someone else now, someone who depends on us. It feels like we’ve reached the end of the road, and I’m not sure what my life will look like from here on, but I’ll have to face whatever comes next.
08/09 Chapter 311: Through the ups and downs
Today we went to Cauã's 7th birthday party. He's the son of Junior (Grandma Simone’s brother) and Debora.
The party was held in the event room of their apartment building. As soon as we arrived, your dad couldn’t help but point out how simple the party was compared to the monthly celebrations I used to throw for you.
He said that because Junior and Debora are known, in the family and among friends, for being incredibly frugal. Junior is a wonderful person—funny, kind, always smiling, and full of love. But his one major flaw is that he’s super tight-fisted, and since he married Debora, it’s only gotten worse.
What’s ironic is that he makes a very good living. I understand that it’s tough to support a family of four, especially when your wife doesn’t work, but one of the biggest expenses for middle-class families is private school tuition. And Junior doesn’t have that worry since both his kids attend the school where he works for free.
Cauã loves to run around and play—he would have had the time of his life at a kids’ party space, but they see it as a waste of money. Just like they think it’s pointless to spend on a 15th birthday party next year for their daughter, Marina. Maybe it’s ‘pointless’ to them, but not to their kids.
In my opinion, their biggest flaw isn’t the frugality. It’s that they always think whatever they have is better than what others have, and they never seem to appreciate the gifts they receive.
For instance, in 2023, my mom brought clothes for Cauã and Marina from our trip to Orlando. Instead of just saying 'thank you,' Debora made an unnecessary remark, saying my mom didn’t need to bother since the clothes there are ‘just like the ones from Brás here.’ That’s just not something you say—just like many things your "aunt" Edith says shouldn’t be said either.
Recently, my mom brought back a hazelnut-flavored coffee from the U.S. for her father, a flavor she fell in love with during our trip to San Diego. Junior tried it at his dad’s house, and when my mom asked him how he liked it, he brushed it off. It’s the same every time we bring something; it’s never good enough. It’s exhausting. But the solution is simple: we’ll just stop bringing things! 😄
But, back to the party—I don’t think there’s anything wrong with throwing a simple party for your kids, as long as it has the essentials to make sure they have fun. When we were children, my parents probably threw parties at kids’ space only once or twice; the rest were always in the event rooms of apartment buildings too. But there were always our friends, fun things like a ball pit, trampoline, sweets, cake, and all that. The issue is with other things. Let me give you an example.
At the party, Debora mentioned that one of the couples there, her friends, owned the Alfenis snack shop. Alfenis is a party snack shop here in São Paulo, and it’s where I got all the snacks for your monthly parties. I said, ‘Wow, that’s great!’ But as I was eating and enjoying the snacks (because I love all kinds of party snacks—coxinha, risoles, esfihas, pastéis…), I realized they weren’t from Alfenis. I knew their snacks well after 11 of your parties. So I asked her:
‘Debora, your friends own one of the best snack shops, and you got them from somewhere else?’
She replied as if it was the most normal thing in the world:
‘Oh, their snacks were more expensive—it came to about a 25-real difference.’
Honestly, I didn’t know what to say, so I gave an awkward little laugh. It was shocking. First, 25 reais for them is nothing—it shouldn’t be a reason to avoid buying from a friend’s business. It's to be there throught the ups and downs. That’s what being a friend means. Being a friend isn’t just about showing up at parties or celebrations during happy moments. It’s also about being there during tough times, supporting them, and that includes supporting a friend’s business if they have one. That means being a customer, recommending them, spreading the word. To choose a rival business over a friend’s for the sake of a few bucks is simply outrageous.
For instance, when I wrote my first book in high school, I was really upset with the few people who didn’t buy it. It was something deeply important to me, and I felt accomplished to have written a book at just 16. My own sister never read it, but I wasn’t even mad at her because she’s never read a book in her life. Most of the family bought and read it, though. Your great-grandma Celeste had never read a book before, but she read mine, and it sparked her love for reading. Now she’s always got a book in hand, and that alone made writing it all worth it.
Nowadays, I have a sales group, and I have friends who have never joined it. I think they could at least follow the Instagram page. But I’ve never demanded it, because that’s something that should come from a sense of loyalty—you support your friends’ businesses, you know? Even if it’s not your thing. Being a good friend isn’t always easy. Friendships can be as challenging as romantic relationships. You have to nurture and care for them, or they’ll fade away.
Your dad, for example, started tattooing. I knew I had to get a tattoo from him, even though I didn’t really want any more. So, I thought of something I’d genuinely like to have on my body and supported him—not just by getting a tattoo myself, but by encouraging friends to do the same, recommending him, and always helping him get clients. Maybe that’s why I feel a bit hurt when he accepts money to help me with my live streams... he should support me too.
Anyway, his friend Matheus, one of the few he has here in Brazil, loves tattoos. If in the future Matheus decides to get another one, he should consider your dad. Going to someone else without even considering him would be doing the same thing Debora did.
In the end, I didn’t mind that the party was simple. You and Rafinha had a blast in the playground and playroom, and we had a lovely evening. Even your dad seemed more relaxed and really enjoyed the night. And that’s what matters—our family, and doing our best to grow and improve every day. Learning, evolving, and fixing the mistakes we make. Because we’re human, we mess up too. But it’s important to look in the mirror and admit when we’re wrong, even though that’s hard for most of us.
09/09 Chapter 312: Cry your heart out
Guess what? Today was your first day back at school. I honestly thought you wouldn’t be sad at all since Rafinha is there with you. You’re always so comfortable with him, and you love being around other kids, so I figured it would be super smooth. But to my surprise, you had a tough time. You cried a lot, and I had to stay with you for a bit to help you adjust. You needed to see me there, and even then, it was hard for you to let go. It’s funny how kids change and go through different phases. I always thought you would be more outgoing than Rafinha, but now it’s the opposite. When you're around people you don’t see all the time—even people like Aunt Rosane and Giovanna, whom you see more often—you get a little shy at first.
If we go to a party or somewhere with unfamiliar faces, you stay shy the whole time, never really warming up. You hide behind my legs, and it's not something we’ve taught you. It’s just part of your personality. When it comes to other kids, you’re usually more outgoing and take the lead in making friends. But since you hadn’t been in that environment for a while, with teachers and other adults around, I think you felt a bit intimidated. That’s just how you are right now. Since turning one, you've become a lot more reserved around people you don’t see often.
The only people you feel completely comfortable with—besides me and your dad—are your maternal grandparents, your godmother Tayna, Uncle Rafael, Rafinha (whom you call “Neném”), and Great Grandma Sônia. You get along with Great Grandpa Wilson most of the time, but you’re still shy around Great Grandma Celeste.
But I'm sure you'll soon get used to school again, especially with your cousin keeping you company, and very soon you'll love going to school just like you used to.
10/09 Chapter 313: Baby girl, it's just you and me
Today was the day your dad had to leave. I had a doctor's appointment with a proctologist that I couldn't miss. It had been hard enough to schedule, and since it was urgent, I couldn't cancel. The appointment was in the morning, so I couldn't take him to the airport without risking delays. We both decided that taking an Uber was the best option anyway. Even if I didn't have the appointment, I would've had to take you along, and that back-and-forth trip would have been exhausting for you. So, sometimes, it's just worth paying for an Uber.
I woke up early and headed to the proctologist. I explained everything to him, and, as I had suspected, he confirmed that this issue was actually more suited for an orthopedic specialist. The proctologist mentioned that he couldn't properly interpret my X-ray since it's not his area, but he did think that if there was a fracture, it might have happened some time ago. He suggested that maybe the plane trip, heavy lifting, or strain brought on the pain. He recommended a magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) scan to rule out anything more serious but assured me it probably wasn’t anything to worry about. And then came the uncomfortable part—getting examined. Imagine a handsome doctor evaluating...well, that part of me. It wasn’t a pleasant experience, to say the least. I really don't like invasive exams with male doctors. I understand they're professionals, but I still don't feel at ease. I'm sure many women feel the same. Still, there are things in life we just have to do, even when we don't want to. Thankfully, the appointment was quick, so I made it in time to say goodbye to your dad. He was really sad to leave you behind. While he loves spending time with family and friends and going back home, it’s now much harder to be away from you. And this is where I feel the difference between mothers and fathers. I could never, ever be away from you for so long—not while you're still so little. Even a single day feels strange. Sometimes I wish you'd sleep, but then when you do, I kind of want you to wake up because I miss you already, hahaha. The first time I spent a long period away from my parents was when I went to Canada in 2015. I was already 22 by then, and they missed me terribly. When I went to San Diego in 2018, I was 25, and I only planned to stay for three months. But when I extended my trip, my parents quickly booked tickets to meet me in Orlando because they couldn’t stand being apart for any longer. I still miss my mom a lot when I’m away. I don't know if you'll be like that in the future, but I’ve always been close to her. I remember when I was little and had to sleep at Grandma Sonia’s. Even though I was used to it, I still missed my mom. Small children are usually so attached to their mothers that separation is tough. I could never imagine being away from you for three whole weeks, my princess. And most parents feel the same. Even though both fathers and mothers love their children deeply, men tend to find it a bit easier to handle the distance. After we said goodbye to your dad, I dropped you off at school. You cried again, and I stayed nearby just in case. But once I left, I didn’t receive any calls or messages from the school, so I picked you up at the usual time, 6:30 p.m. And when I did, I saw something heartwarming—you and your cousin walking hand-in-hand with your teacher. We came home, and I realized it’s just the two of us now, babe. It’s going to be a challenge, managing everything alone, especially with your meals and without your dad’s help. But I know we’ll be okay. We’ve got this <311-14/09 Chapter 313: Feels like a failure
This week has been really calm, and I’m so happy that you've finally stopped crying when going to school. It feels like we’re settling into a nice routine.
You usually wake up around 11 a.m., have breakfast, and sometimes lunch. On the days you skip lunch, I can only hope you’ll eat your afternoon snack at school. I pick you up at 6:30 p.m., and we’re home by 7 p.m. We usually play in the playground or with your toys for a bit, and then around 8 p.m., it’s bath time. You love staying in the water for about half an hour, and I let you enjoy it. I brush your hair afterward, and I’ve recently started drying it to prevent it from getting too tangled. At first, you were scared of the hairdryer, but now you’re getting more used to it.
By 8:30 or 9 p.m., it’s time for dinner. Afterward, around 9:30 or 10 p.m., you’re off to bed. Most nights, I let you watch a little bit of a cartoon while you eat or just before going to sleep.
Even though you go to bed at 9:30 or 10 p.m., you still sleep until 11 a.m. the next day—more than 12 hours of sleep! But it makes sense since you don’t nap during the day because of school, so you catch up at night. Honestly, I could easily sleep for 12 hours too if I had the chance. No doubt, you’re definitely my daughter. We both love our sleep!
Right now, the two things that are giving me the most trouble are your pacifier and your eating habits. Even though you don’t use the pacifier at school anymore, at home, you’ve stopped following the rule that it’s only for bedtime. You used to hand me the pacifier as soon as you woke up, knowing it was just for sleep, but lately, it seems like you’ve forgotten that rule.
The second issue, which worries me more, is your eating. You’re eating less and less, just like I did when I was a kid. Every time we put food in front of you, you make a face, like it’s disgusting. Very few things catch your interest when it comes to food, and getting you to open your mouth to eat is a real struggle. We constantly have to resort to bribery or bargaining just to get you to eat something. It’s exhausting.
I’ve tried different approaches. First, I try putting on a cartoon for you, but believe it or not, that doesn’t always work. Then, I offer you something I know you like. And finally, when all else fails, I tell you I’m going to give your toys to Rafinha. That usually does the trick!
There was this one day recently when I had to grab those monkeys you love so much—those dirty ones I bought in Brás. I bought a bunch because they were the first toys you ever got attached to. And when I say attached, I mean it! You wake up with them, sleep with them, take them to school, and cry for them in the middle of the night. When you only had one, it ripped, and I went back to get another, but they were all gone. It was a disaster. Eventually, I found them again and bought several backups, but now you carry around three monkeys—or as many as you can hold.
That day, I had to open the door and pretend to toss your beloved monkeys outside. You cried so hard, to the point of sobbing. But I didn’t give in, not until you finally tried a bite of the watermelon you used to love, but now refuse to eat because of its color.
That’s the thing—most of the time, you end up liking what you try. The challenge is just getting you to taste it. And sometimes, I have to do these awful things, like pretending to throw away your monkey, just to make you give in, take a bite, and realize you actually enjoy it.
It took about an hour. You cried on one side, I cried on the other. But in the end, you tasted the watermelon. After nearly throwing up from all the crying, I gave your monkey back. I felt like a failure—the worst mother in the world. There’s a unique kind of defeat when your child refuses to eat. It’s indescribable. Few mothers know what it’s like to see their child refuse food day after day, to never open their mouth willingly, and to always have to rely on tricks, threats, or bargains. It’s awful! Moms who don’t go through this have no idea what it feels like. I don’t know why, but it hurts so much to see your child not eat. Maybe it’s because, as moms, we feel responsible for feeding them—because for months, we were their only source of nourishment. For so long, their survival came from us, our bodies, and when that stops, and they don’t eat properly, it feels like a blow to the core.
Maybe it’s karma. I put my parents through the same thing, and even now, I don’t eat well. Karma only seems to hit good people, doesn’t it?
16/09 Chapter 314: I remember it all too well
This week has been going better than I could have imagined. Every day feels smoother now that you’ve gone back to school. Life is finally getting back on track, and you’re settling into a routine, something that was missing not only for you but for all of us. It makes such a difference. Even though it’s just the two of us, having you back in school gives me time to get things done, and I’ve even picked up reading again. I’m already on my third book.
A bit about me: I’ve always been passionate about reading and writing. I started writing early—when I was just five years old. I was also the class speaker in preschool, the one who reads the speech the teachers write. Later, I did the same thing in eighth grade. There were about three of us chosen to speak at the graduation ceremony.
Reading has always been a big part of my life. My mom used to say I devoured Turma da Mônica comics, which are super popular with kids in Brazil. At least, they were in my day. Even now, I still pick them up from time to time—they’re such a fun, light read. My aunt Andréia, who’s over 50, is still a huge fan.
From comics, I moved on to books—big books, with long stories for my age. One that really stuck with me in my teenage years was called Aborrescente não, sou adolescente ("I’m Not an Annoying Teen, I’m a Teenager").
I don’t even remember the plot anymore, but I loved it. From there, I dove into many other books. I even read Harry Potter, though I never really liked it. I much preferred Twilight. When I started reading New Moon in 2009, I was going through a tough time. I’d just broken up with Marcelo, and that book spoke to exactly how I was feeling. It’s the one where Bella and Edward break up, and Bella sinks into a deep depression.
I used to highlight my favorite quotes, fold the pages, and save the lines to type up later. I even had a document full of quotes from books, movies, and shows that I’d share with my ex, Caique. We’d discuss each one in detail. But when I sold my computer, I was so careless—I forgot to back it all up. I lost everything. I still have a few saved quotes, but many are gone for good. It’s frustrating because, when I finished a book, I’d usually sell or donate it, so I have no way to go back and collect those quotes again. I remember it all too well, but there’s nothing I can do now.
Reading has always been a comfort for me, and it’s something I miss dearly. Reading online just doesn’t feel the same. There’s nothing quite like holding a book in your hands, turning its pages, or sitting on the beach at sunset, reading with the sound of the waves in the background.
And as for writing—that’s even more personal. I’ve kept a diary since I was little, writing down everything, pouring my emotions onto the pages. That’s why I’ve been on Twitter since 2009; I started using it as an online diary, a place to get my thoughts out. Even though I knew other people could read it, I didn’t care. I just needed an outlet.
I still have diaries from when I was six, eight, ten years old. There’s nothing better than opening them up, seeing my childhood handwriting, and reading the little stories I wouldn’t remember otherwise. One of my favorites is about sneaking coins from my piggy bank to buy an ice cream cone when I had a fever. I wrote, “Don’t tell Mom, dear diary, it’s a sacred secret.” Can you imagine? Buying ice cream being a “sacred secret.” Kids can be so funny, and it’s a joy to relive those moments. There are many other childhood stories in those pages that make me laugh and fill me with nostalgia.
Not many people keep diaries these days. I don’t know if you’ll be one of those rare people who feel the need to write everything down, but I can promise you this—these diaries become treasures. I’m keeping one now about us, about our life together, but I can’t write down your thoughts, your feelings, or your stories from school. Only you can do that. Maybe one day, you’ll have two diaries: one from my perspective and one from yours.
20/09 Chapter 315: Miss indepedent
It was finally the day of Joaquim's party, and as expected, no one else but us was invited. It made me feel a bit uneasy and sad because I didn’t want to feel isolated or out of place, especially since I don't know most of the other guests.
I have some connection with Décio’s family, but they’d be busy attending to everyone else, leaving me sitting alone at a table with just you. So, even though I knew it might not be the best idea, late last night I sent Lucas a message asking if he’d mind if I brought Pietra along to keep me company. I explained in a voice message that I knew it was a bit of an awkward request, but I didn’t feel comfortable making the long trip back from Tatuapé alone with a baby at that hour.
I acknowledged that it was putting him in an uncomfortable position but thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask, considering your dad couldn’t come because of his trip. Pietra could fill in for him, though I knew it was still a bit of a stretch.
I’d been going back and forth about whether or not to ask but, in the end, I went for it. I made it clear he shouldn’t hesitate to say no if he felt uncomfortable, and that it wouldn’t bother me or change the fact that I’d still go to the party. He responded as politely and warmly as always, saying it wouldn’t be a problem. He explained that this time he only invited people with kids because of budget constraints.
I’ll admit I didn’t fully understand, considering Lucas earns a lot—way more than I do. While I struggle to provide for you what he could easily give, people do say Lucas is quite the penny-pincher. But that’s not really my concern. I was just grateful he let me bring Pietra along. His kindness and quick, thoughtful response made me want to bring a little thank-you gift to the party. Since I regularly get packages from the U.S., I always have a few extra items lying around. This time, I had a small adidas perfume that Luciana had been selling for about R$50, so I bought it and brought it to him at the party. He was really appreciative. To give you an idea, Pietra and I were the first ones to arrive at the party. It was supposed to start at 7:30 p.m., and we got there around 7:32. It was just us and Décio's family.A little before the first hour was up, they left a bowl of snacks on the table for us to eat—just those specific ones, no variety. For example, there were two kibbehs, I ate one and Pietra ate the other. If we wanted more, there wasn’t any being served. You had to eat whatever was in the bowl, and they didn’t switch out the bowls like many buffets do. Honestly, I’m not a fan of buffets that just leave food on the table; I prefer the ones where the food is constantly being served, so you avoid situations like this.
As I suspected, after a while, they stopped bringing out any more snacks and weren’t going to serve more. I was right, because shortly after, they started serving dinner in small Tupperware containers. I think it was stroganoff with rice. At these parties, it’s always the same—chicken fricassee, stroganoff, or pasta. Honestly, that’s food I eat at home; I have zero interest in eating it at a party. When I go to parties, I want to indulge in junk food and try different things. So, I passed on the dinner, and after they started serving it, the snacks completely disappeared.
They did bring out a delicious tapioca and coconut dessert, but it was the same story—just one round. So, if you happened to be in the bathroom, busy with your child, or chatting with someone, you missed out. They didn’t serve it again.
Last year, I’ll never forget it. We arrived late and I missed the crepe skewers. This time, I made sure to be there the whole time. I even saw the crepe machine running from upstairs, but not once did I see them actually serve the crepes. They must’ve only brought them out once, and I missed it while I was upstairs playing with my daughter. It’s absurd.
Another thing—they rationed the sweets too. Most of the desserts weren’t even special, just the usual stuff, and they only brought them out once. Then, after nearly everyone had left (not us, because I refused to leave without getting more sweets), they started bringing them out again. Greedy, selfish jerks.
And now, another major issue is that this buffet hardly has any attractions. Even though it’s considered a children’s buffet, they only have a small ball pit that’s not really big enough for most kids, and the play structure, which small children can’t go on, and neither can adults. There’s also a trampoline, but kids your age don’t really use it. They have a zip line connected to the main play area, but again, little kids don’t go up there. Upstairs, there are a few more play areas and a small ball pit for toddlers, but when I went up, several of the toys were broken, missing parts, or just dirty... What kind of place is this? There’s also a soccer field that some adults play on, but for the adults, that’s it. Just a soccer field.
So, if your child is turning three, why not rent a buffet that actually has age-appropriate toys? For your party next month, I researched several buffets until I found one with toys suitable for you. There’s going to be a ride where adults can join, a play area with a slide where I can go with you, a carousel, a ball pit, and even video games where you love steering the wheel. Basically, this buffet is 100% designed for older kids, and even then, the options are pretty limited. Every time I go to this place, it’s a disappointment.
At the party, I noticed that only a few people from our family were invited, but I was glad we went and that I got to see you have fun. You ate a lot, enjoyed yourself, and had more sweets than you should’ve—especially since your dad wasn’t there to keep an eye on things.
Now, let’s take a break from stories and talk about your milestones. One big one is that you’re becoming more independent—you’re starting to want to pick out your own clothes. Sometimes I try to dress you in something, and you refuse, getting upset and insisting on wearing something else. For example, when it’s hot, I try to put summer clothes on you, but you’ll refuse just because of the pattern and insist on wearing something warmer, even though it’s summer. So, we’re having a few little struggles like that. It’s the same with shoes.
At the party today, you insisted on wearing your ‘bolo fofo’ dress, and you looked absolutely adorable in it. I got that dress for such a bargain at Brás, it was a real find. You were so happy, feeling beautiful and proud in your lovely blue ‘bolo fofo’ dress.
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Now, you’re already showing a strong personality and starting to assert your independence early on, my little self-sufficient one. Even though I scheduled your C-section early so you’d be born a Libra and not a Scorpio, I think you were meant to be a Scorpio anyway. Changing that didn’t seem to affect the fiery personality you were always destined to have.
25/09 Chapter 316: Where did I go wrong?
Your father will be back soon, and I just want to say how proud I am of the three weeks I’ve spent with you on my own. I know I’m capable of doing this well, and if I ever have to take care of you without him, I’m confident I could manage. In fact, I’ve always known this deep down, but now I’m absolutely certain. The biggest challenge, though, has been your eating.
I remember when we first introduced solid foods to you, you loved those Gerber purees and ate every flavor. But it was a struggle to transition from those to homemade meals, and even then, you’ve always had a hard time with food.
Later, when we started giving you small pieces of food, you entered that phase where you only wanted things you could pick up with your hands. That meant mashed potatoes, creamed corn, and soups were a battle—and honestly, they still are. I’ve noticed that after each hospital stay, you’d come home eating fewer things and in smaller amounts. It seems that being in the hospital didn’t just affect how much you wanted to see your dad; it also left you with some kind of food trauma. And every time you got a cold after being discharged, your eating would get even worse. Now we’ve reached a point where, whenever we offer you food, you seem disgusted, turn your face away, and it feels like every meal—whether it’s breakfast, lunch, or dinner—is a dreaded moment for you. You don’t see it as something enjoyable, but rather as a chore, something you’re forced to do. It’s exactly how I was as a child. In fact, my mom is still debating whether you’re worse than I was, or just the same.
The other day, I had to resort to a bit of bribery. I grabbed your favorite stuffed monkey and told you I’d give it to Rafinha if you didn’t eat. You cried and cried, nearly making yoursel puke from all the crying. But I didn’t give in until you finally agreed to try at least one bite of watermelon. When you did, I felt terrible—like the worst mom in the world.
We moms are only human. We’re just trying our best to do what’s right for our kids. But how do we know when we’re crossing a line, doing more harm than good? If I didn’t use these tactics—whether it’s your monkey, your pacifier, or even TV shows—what would I do when you flat-out refuse to eat? There’s no magic formula, and honestly, I don’t know what to do about it. All I can hope for is that you turn out different from me and that your relationship with food gets better over time. I know your dad will blame me if you don’t, but I also know, deep down, this time it isn’t my fault.
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