05/02 Chapter 372: I'm stronger that I've been before
Since last year, we've been keeping an eye on your adenoids. To be honest, before all this, I didn’t even know what adenoids were. But Dr. Humberto grew suspicious because of your frequent infections. Then, when your dad mentioned that your breathing sometimes stops for a few seconds while you sleep, the doctor became even more certain. It made sense—his own grandson had to have his adenoids removed when he was just a year old.
Last year, we did an X-ray of your face to check things out, and the results confirmed it: your nasal airway is really narrow because of the adenoids. That’s why, whenever you get sick, mucus and bacteria get trapped in your nose, making everything worse. It also explains why you always seem so congested and why you snore at night. Aside from that, there are other little ways it's been affecting you. After the X-ray, we consulted not just the hospital doctor and Dr. Humberto, but also another specialist—my own doctor, the one who treats my labyrinthitis. They all agreed: surgery is the best option.
This new doctor said the issue isn’t just the size of the adenoids, but the fact that you keep getting infections. He looked at your blood test results and saw signs of multiple infections, even though you’re not sick at the moment.
Then, there was a small irregularity in your heart exam, but he reassured us that it’s common when kids get stressed or cry during the test—which, in your case, you definitely did. Still, to be extra safe before surgery, he recommended a cardiology consultation. I went ahead and scheduled it, and today, your grandma and I are taking you downtown to see the specialist. And, of course, downtown is always a nightmare.
When we got there, it took a while to be seen, so you kept yourself entertained with the coffee machine. I let you try the hot chocolate, and you absolutely loved it. You even went back for a second cup. No surprise there—you’re definitely my daughter, a true chocolate lover!
Once we finally went in, the doctor reviewed your tests. He said there was a 99% chance that everything was fine, but that lingering 1% of uncertainty made him request a more detailed exam. Once we get those results, we’ll know for sure if you’re cleared for surgery—or not.
My mom is pretty nervous about it. But the truth is, if left untreated, an enlarged adenoid can sometimes lead to hearing loss. Her biggest fear is the general anesthesia, which always comes with risks. Actually, she lost a distant cousin, Alan, when he was just a little boy—about your age—during a simple tonsil removal surgery. It was probably due to an allergic reaction to the anesthesia, but that was a long time ago. Medicine has advanced so much since then.
Of course, if we can avoid surgery, that would be ideal. But sometimes, we have to weigh the pros and cons and consider how much this is really affecting your quality of life. Your dad and I both agree that surgery is the best option. And honestly, I feel much more confident and at peace with the decision. After seeing you hospitalized three times—twice in critical condition—I know you're stronger than ever. I also know that if you go through with the surgery, you’re going to be just fine. After all, you were already a miracle for me and your dad (which I’ll tell you more about later), and you were a warrior in that hospital. So really, anesthesia? That’ll be nothing for you!
09/02 Chapter 373: One step closer
Today, I checked my email, and when I read “your sponsor has completed your visa paperwork on the 7th”, my heart nearly jumped out of my chest.
This was supposed to happen on January 26th, and I remember rushing to the BDV website the very next day, hoping for an update—but nothing. Days went by, and I finally reached out to customer support. They told me delays were normal, that the paperwork had to go through lawyers and be thoroughly reviewed, and that it usually takes weeks and weeks.
As time passed, I almost emailed them again for more clarity. One of the reps told me it could take weeks, but the main website mentioned they’d notify me if there were any changes to the timeline—which hadn’t happened. But I decided to wait just a little longer—and I'm glad I did—because seeing that email today made me so happy. We’re now one step closer to living in San Diego and leaving this mess of a place called Brazil behind.
I saw someone mention that their I-140 got approved after waiting about 15 months for the Labor Certificate and then just 2 more months for the I-140 itself. If my timeline follows that pace, we could be in San Diego by mid-2026—way sooner than I expected!
But I’ll be honest, I’m a bit nervous about my future job at Denny’s as a waitress. I don’t mind taking orders, being on my feet, or wiping down tables. My fear? Handling big tables and carrying a tray full of plates and drinks. I’m short and not exactly strong… how am I supposed to balance a heavy tray? And what if I drop it? God, please watch over me during this year of hard work—I’m going to need it.
In the meantime, I’m still playing Powerball, dreaming of winning big so I can skip all of this and move straight there—and maybe help a lot of people along the way!
10/02 Chapter 374: Everybody gone mad
This weekend, I was at your grandparents' house, and I think I mentioned that my dad's cousin, Alex, showed a lot of interest in the apartment earlier this year. He spent New Year's in Caraguatatuba with my parents and found it appealing because his son, Gustavo, studies just five minutes from the apartment. Since their family lives in the South Zone, it’s been a hassle for Gustavo to commute all these years. Naturally, the idea of him living closer seemed perfect. At first, they were very interested, but then they went quiet, and we assumed they lost interest.
But yesterday, Alex called my dad out of nowhere, asking a ton of questions about the apartment—the condo fees, property taxes, whether it was fully paid off—basically all the questions a serious buyer would ask. And, to my surprise, he decided to buy it.
I was in the living room, on my computer (ironically reading about the next steps for the visa process), when my dad came in, clapping his hands, telling me to start packing because the apartment was sold to his cousin. He also said that almost everything would stay—except the TVs and Melanie’s furniture. The sofa, dining table, bed, stove, fridge, washing machine—all of it would go with the apartment for R$500,000. The upside? Since we were selling directly, we’d save the R$30,000 that would’ve gone to the real estate agency. So, instead of R$470,000, we’d get the full amount. Plus, my dad wanted to cut his cousin a deal—family perks, I guess.
The only thing my mom and I asked was for my dad to check when they needed the apartment. I mean, my whole life is here—I couldn’t just pack up overnight. That simple question set my dad off. He got all worked up, started yelling, calling us ungrateful, saying we were making a fuss. He wanted me out by next week, claiming Gustavo was already studying nearby and needed the place ASAP. But honestly, the guy’s been commuting for two years—a couple more months wouldn’t kill him. My dad, though, is all about urgency. He wanted it done now.
I spent the whole night torn—happy that we sold the apartment and could use the money to pay off what’s due in May, but also completely stressed about the sudden move. How would it work with you and your dad? We’re currently separated, but he’s been coming over every day after school to see you. He picks you up, spends time with you, and now, if we moved into your grandparents’ place, how would that dynamic work? Not to mention how hard it is to live with parents again. Kids thrive on routine, and at their house, you’d be all over the place—going to bed past midnight, eating poorly, binge-watching cartoons. It’s hard enough keeping structure here.
Another thing that bothered me? They claim the new apartment will be ready by May, but I’m sure there’ll be delays—probably till October or November. Junior’s place was delayed five months, and I’ve seen how much construction is still left. So, living with my parents from February till November? That’s a long stretch, not just a few weeks.
I couldn’t stop overthinking everything. Before bed, around 1 AM, I texted Meminha, Gustavo’s mom, thanking her for buying the apartment and saying I was excited we’d see more of each other now. I politely asked if she had any idea when they’d need the apartment, just so I could plan the move. I was super careful with my words—polite, casual—nothing that could be taken the wrong way.
But the next morning, my mom burst into my room, slamming the door, waking both me and you up, asking if I had messaged Meminha because—they backed out.
I panicked, thinking my dad would explode, but I showed my mom the message. She read it and agreed—it was harmless. Apparently, the reason they gave was that Gustavo had second thoughts about living so far from the South Zone. But honestly? The explanation was vague at best.
The day before, they were all in. Talking about payment plans, transferring funds—everything. My dad had even told Alex someone else was interested, kind of pressuring him to act fast, which I didn’t agree with. Buying a property isn’t something you rush into.
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe my message made them back out. Especially since they saw it but never replied. I thought maybe they felt pressured or thought I was being pushy. So, I sent another message: “Memi, I hope it wasn’t because of my message that you guys changed your minds…” trying to clear the air.
She called me right away, assuring me it had nothing to do with that and explained everything. We talked for like 16 minutes.
Her version? She said that while driving Gustavo to school that morning, she brought up how everything was set for the apartment. But Gustavo hesitated, saying that once he finished school, he’d want to sell it and buy something closer to the South Zone. She told him it doesn’t work like that—you don’t just buy and sell apartments like cars. And that freaked him out. He realized he didn’t want to be stuck in the North Zone long-term.
But honestly? That explanation didn’t sit right with me or my mom. If his dad’s buying him an apartment, why wouldn’t he be able to sell it later if he wanted to? Apartments can take time to sell, sure, but this one’s in a prime location—right by the metro, across from the mall, near a big supermarket. It wouldn’t be hard to offload.
My mom even wondered if they backed out because of the high condo fees. It is pricey, but they knew that upfront, and Alex had even agreed to it after seeing the bill. So, who knows what really happened?
All I know is, these past two days were pure chaos. My dad, trying to kick me out overnight, the family jumping into the deal then backing out—it was a circus.
And here I am, still wondering if my message somehow ruined the whole thing.
In the end, we wrapped up the conversation with her saying that the door wasn’t completely closed—they were still “considering it.” But honestly, I didn’t buy it for a second. I could tell there was no real hope left. And look, I’m not one to sugarcoat things or give people false hope. She also made it clear that it had nothing to do with me or my message. She even said that if they did go through with the purchase, they’d give me as much time as I needed to move out—mentioning up to a year, if necessary. Of course, I told her that wasn’t needed, just a few weeks would be plenty.
But see? That’s exactly the problem with my dad. He’s so impulsive. He was ready to kick me out immediately, without even setting a proper date with them. It’s like he hears “yes” and instantly wants things done yesterday, without stopping to think about how it impacts everyone else. Everybody gone mad or what?
14/02 Chapter 375: Something I can never have
An update on your father and me: It looks like he’s already renting an apartment and moving on with his life. I had to tell a small lie just to see how he would react, and his response made one thing crystal clear—he really doesn’t want to be with me in a romantic way. And that’s okay. It’s time to let go and start thinking about the next chapters of my own life.
If there’s one thing I’ve never been lucky with, it’s love. Even as a kid, whenever I had a little crush, the boy never liked me back. And as I got older, nothing really changed. Marcelo liked me, but only for a few months. We had three great months together, and then came the cheating, the different lifestyles pulling us apart. Even though we stayed together for a year and two months, his passion for me lasted only those first few months. That’s just how it is, I guess. And in the end? He turned out to be gay. Just my luck, right? Then there was Caique, who I thought was the love of my life, but we loved each other at different times. And your dad? Your dad and I never really had that burning passion. We love each other’s hearts, but we were never in love.
But maybe that’s what life is—always missing something, never quite having it all.
I always dreamed of a big church wedding, of picking out the perfect dress, of starting a family. But if I had to choose between those two dreams, having a child was always the bigger one. That was always the priority. And look at my life now—I have an amazing, loving family, three grandparents still alive and close, and we’re all financially stable. And the biggest dream of all? Having a daughter named Melanie. And here you are. My greatest dream came true. Soon, I’ll probably be moving to San Diego, a place I love. If I had found love too, if I had that passionate, movie-like relationship, then my life would be… complete. But no one’s life is ever truly complete, is it?
Everyone is missing something. Some people have the kind of love story you only see in films, but they struggle financially or have serious health issues. Others have the perfect family, the perfect home, but they live in a place they despise. That’s life. No one has it all. And if I had love on top of everything else I already have, well… I’d have nothing to wish for.
Happiness, I’ve come to realize, is just an emotion—like sadness, fear, hunger. It’s temporary. It comes and goes. No one is happy every second of every day. People have happy moments, bursts of joy, but that deep, constant happiness? It doesn’t exist. Because as soon as we reach one goal, we start chasing the next. We achieve a dream, and immediately, we set our sights on something else. That’s just human nature. And honestly, I don’t judge. What is life without dreams? But maybe that’s also our biggest flaw—always wanting more, always longing for what we don’t have. Why can’t we, myself included, just be happy with what we already have? It’s one of life’s greatest mysteries, just like what happens after death, whether God exists, or if we’re alone in the universe. No one has the answer.
But I do know one thing—I have no reason to be sad. Sure, my love life is a disaster, but every other part of my life is thriving. And if only one area of my life is lacking, I consider myself lucky. So many people struggle in multiple areas—love, health, family, money. In comparison, my problems feel small. I am lucky. I am happy. And I am grateful. Wanting more would just be greed.
I don’t know if things like reincarnation or past lives are real, but if they are, then I was born in this life to be your mother. Maybe I was never meant to experience love in the way I once hoped, and that’s okay. Some people just aren’t meant to have that kind of relationship. Your Aunt Andreia, for example—she was not meant to be with someone either. Some people simply weren’t meant for "happily ever after" when it comes to romance.
Of course, it stings a little to know I’ll never walk down the aisle, never wear that dream dress, never have a partner to share my life with. But you know what they say—acceptance is the key to peace. If you keep chasing something that isn’t meant to be, all you’ll do is hurt yourself over and over again. But if you accept it, it’ll hurt once—deeply, but only once. No endless disappointments, no constant frustrations. And I think I’m finally reaching that acceptance. The universe gave me exactly what I wanted most—you. And I need to be grateful for that. Between you, my family, my health, and my stability, I already have so much. I don’t need anything more. I don’t want anything more.
Maybe, after so much heartbreak in this life, if another one exists, I’ll finally get to experience love the way I once dreamed. Or maybe there’s another world, a better one, where people are truly happy, where dreams come true all at once, and nothing is ever missing.
But in this life, I’m done searching for love. It’s not meant for me. Instead, all the love I have, I’ll give to my family—and to you.
19/02 Chapter 376: What's done, it's done
Today, I felt terrible because I lost control again and ended up spanking you—something I should never have done in this situation.
We’ve officially entered the potty-training phase, and you’re doing so much better than I expected. I thought it would be a real struggle, but just like everything else with you, it’s been surprisingly smooth. You keep proving me wrong in the best way possible.
We started potty training at school too, despite some resistance from your teacher. We insisted because it’s important for you to have consistency, both at home and in the classroom. My mom kept saying that switching between diapers at school and underwear at home would only confuse you, and I passed that along to your teacher. So, we pushed forward, and this week, we officially started. But yesterday, you didn’t make it to the bathroom at school even once. Every time, you peed on the floor. They told me about it, and I explained that it was probably just the new environment—because at home, you had already gotten the hang of it. You didn’t even need reminders anymore. Whenever you felt the urge, you’d climb up your little step stool and go all on your own. Pooping was still a bit harder, but even that was improving.
Then, on Monday and Tuesday night, I noticed something change. You started peeing on the floor again—last night, even on the balcony. You ended up sliding in your own pee. You could have seriously hurt yourself.
And then today, you looked me straight in the eyes while sitting on the couch and peed on purpose, laughing as you did it. That’s when I lost control. A few seconds later, I spanked you. Just one little tap on your bottom.
Even my sister called me out on it when I texted her about what happened. She reminded me that when it comes to potty training, spanking is the worst thing you can do. We’re supposed to encourage, praise, and guide—not punish. Otherwise, kids can start holding it in, leading to urinary infections, incontinence, or who knows what else. It could even undo all the progress we’ve made. And, of course, you cried—hard. You even stuttered a little through your sobs. Not because it hurt, because I never hit you hard, but because of what it meant. Just that one action was enough to make you feel sad and disappointed.
I felt horrible. So, so horrible. The only reason I spanked you was that I knew you understood what you were doing, yet you did it anyway—and laughed. It felt like something I had to correct. Maybe not that way, but in the moment, I wasn’t thinking clearly.
I don’t know if it made a difference or not. But today, when I picked you up from school, I noticed something strange. I had sent you with extra clothes and underwear, as they had requested, but when I arrived, you were still wearing the exact same outfit. All your extra underwear came back dry. The teacher told me you had used the bathroom every time.
I was confused. Just the day before, you hadn’t gone even once, and now, suddenly, you had a perfect record? A part of me wondered if they had put a diaper on you when I wasn’t around. I couldn’t quite figure it out. But then, when we got home, you went straight back to using the toilet as if nothing had happened.
I don’t know if it was just a coincidence, or if what happened this morning had something to do with it. But either way, I still felt awful. All I wanted to do was hold you, kiss you, and play with you, trying to make up for that moment when I lost my patience.
Because even though I knew you were testing me, I also knew that spanking you—especially during potty training—was not the right thing to do. And that made me so disappointed in myself.
But I also learned something today. In life, we can’t keep torturing ourselves over things we can’t undo. What’s done is done. The only thing we can do is learn from it, make sure we don’t repeat the same mistakes, and grow from them. Because if we keep making the same mistake over and over again, then we never truly learned from it, and regret becomes meaningless.
And I did learn. I promise myself that from now on, I won’t react that way again. I’ll handle these moments differently. I can’t change the past, but I can change how I respond in the future.
Thank you for teaching me every single day. I love you, and I’m sorry. You make me so proud. Most kids don’t potty train until after three years old, and here you are—just two years and four months old—already rocking it!
22/02 Chapter 377: You never say a word unless it's to complain
Tonight was fun—at least for me.
Yesterday, for the first time, you spent the night at your dad’s place. And you slept peacefully, without crying, which made both of us happy. It opened the door for you to spend more time with him, to have more nights there, because he misses putting you to bed, misses waking up with you in the morning. But at the same time, it stings—a reminder that this separation is real, that it’s final. Not that it wasn’t already, of course. Like I wrote in the previous chapter, your dad has never given me any sign that he wants to rebuild our family, that he wants to be with me again. I’ve come to terms with that. But when things like this happen, it makes everything feel more concrete. It forces me to acknowledge that time is moving forward, that we’re adjusting, that this is our reality now. And even though we’re being respectful toward each other, even though we’re finding a way to co-parent peacefully, it still hurts.
I always dreamed of having a family. And I knew that if I didn’t find the right person to marry, I’d do IVF and have a baby on my own. I was prepared for that. But I never imagined I’d have a child with someone and raise them separately. That was never part of the plan. I had considered the possibility of being a single mother by choice, but not… this. And there’s a sadness in that. Separation is always painful—for the people involved, but especially for the child caught in the middle.
But we were relieved that you didn’t cry much. You woke up once in the middle of the night calling for me, but your dad was able to soothe you back to sleep.
As soon as I woke up, I went to pick you up, and we played in the little park downstairs. But not before I gave you a big, tight hug and covered you in kisses. I miss you so much when you’re away, whether it’s at your dad’s, your grandparents’, or on a trip to the beach. A mother’s heart feels the absence, even if it’s just for a night.
After running around and having fun at the park, you were exhausted and napped with me all afternoon, curled up in my arms.
Later, when we woke up, your dad and I had planned to take you to a light show—something similar to the one we saw in Barcelona. But when we looked into it, it was too far and way too expensive—R$130 per person, and they even charged for toddlers over two. Ridiculous.
So after searching for alternatives, your dad and I decided to try the circus-themed pizzeria. I had been wanting to go for a while, but the opportunity never came up. At first, your dad wasn’t thrilled about it because it only had a 4.1 rating on Google—he’s obsessed with online ratings. I told him to stop relying so much on those numbers. How many times have we seen Oscar-nominated movies that are dull and overrated? Or movies with terrible ratings that turn out to be amazing? The same goes for restaurants. You have to try things for yourself.
To be sure, I asked in my moms’ WhatsApp group if they had any recommendations for kid-friendly places, and most of them suggested this pizzeria. That convinced your dad, so off we went.
Of course, there was a waitlist when we got there. It’s a themed restaurant, and there aren’t many like it in São Paulo. Your dad immediately started complaining, suggesting we ditch it and just grab ice cream at the mall next door. Thirty minutes of waiting was apparently unbearable for him. But I insisted—I wanted to try something different for a change. In Brazil, it feels like all we ever do is go to malls.
Sometimes, I think your dad only complain when he’s with me. The happiness I feel when I’m with you two doesn’t seem to reach him. And it’s not because of you—it’s because of me. When he’s around me, he’s always complaining about something. I used to be the one who was pessimistic and full of complaints, but with you, I try hard not to be. I think I’ve been doing a pretty good job. Lately, I’m really enjoying life with you—soaking in these moments, trying to complain less, live more. But your dad? It’s like he’s going in the opposite direction.
Anyway, the pizzeria was beautiful and well-decorated, though I expected it to be bigger and to have more circus elements. But for São Paulo, where we don’t have many places like this, it was good enough. The play area was like those big indoor playgrounds, but you’re still too little for it. The older kids were running wild, and they would’ve knocked you over. Maybe if Noah and Sophia had been there, you would’ve braved it, but since it was just us, you stayed at the table with us.
It was all-you-can-eat pizza for R$99 per person, and thank God kids under four eat free—which makes sense because you barely eat anything. The price included unlimited pizza, nuggets, fries, and popcorn.
The fries were perfect—thin, crispy, just the way I like them. And the pizza? I honestly thought it would be just okay, more about the theme than the food itself—like those places where you pay for the experience, not the quality. But I was pleasantly surprised. The pizza was delicious, and your dad and I loved it. One of our favorites had pistachios—so good. We tried a few different flavors, and the quality was great for the price. But, of course, your dad still found something to complain about—he thought it was expensive.
After dinner, we decided to take you to a new Italian gelato shop that had just opened and was getting rave reviews. You were thrilled—lately, you’ve been obsessed with ice cream. But that’s where I messed up.
It was a busy Saturday night, and I left my backpack on a table to reserve it while we ordered. I knew if we didn’t, we’d end up standing, which would be a nightmare with you—sticky hands, wanting to be held, getting everything dirty. You only ever want to be in my arms, never your dad’s, which makes it extra exhausting for me.
While we were in line, your dad asked if I had left my phone in the bag. I said yes, not thinking much of it, because I assumed no one would steal it in a nice place like that. But instead of just grabbing my phone, he brought the entire bag back to us—which, of course, signaled to another couple that the table was free. They immediately took it.
I was so annoyed. Instead of just getting my phone, why did he have to bring the whole bag? I got frustrated, and unfortunately, I didn’t handle it well. I started arguing with him—in front of everyone. And of course, he just stood there, silent, letting me vent.
I went over and told the guy sitting at our table that we had been there first and that my "husband" had just gone to grab his wallet. The guy argued back, but in the end, he got up. He wasn’t wrong, though—technically, the table was empty when he sat down. Could he have been more considerate? Sure. But he was just desperate for a table, like everyone else.
The problem was me. I let my emotions take over, and I made a scene. I should have just calmly told your dad that next time, he should grab the phone instead of the bag—and thanked him for thinking of me. Instead, I overreacted, and it ruined the night.
I apologized later, and your dad told me it was fine, that he wasn’t upset anymore. But when I mess up, I dwell on it. I hate my impulsiveness.
But aside from that, I really loved spending the night with you—eating, laughing, sharing those little moments. Few things make me happier than being with the people I love. Even if we’re not a traditional family anymore, in my heart, we always will be.
Oh, and the ice cream? Good, but not worth the hype.
26/02 Chapter 378: Another day goes without any change
As much as I enjoyed spending the evening with you and your dad—going out for pizza, stopping by the ice cream shop—these things get complicated. We’re not together anymore, and that only adds to the confusion. It confuses everyone, including us, especially you. And as the days go by without any real changes, with your father seeming more distant from the idea of coming back home, I realized I had to set some boundaries and ground myself in reality.
So, I talked to him. It’s not ideal for us to pick you up from school together every day, only for him to stay here until eight at night, lingering in the apartment. Weekend outings together feel strange too. As much as they bring me happiness in the moment, they also make me uncomfortable. So, we need to cut back on these things. We need structure. You’ll start spending two nights a week at his place—something that’s hard for me to accept, but I have to think about both you and him. He won’t be coming over just to hang out anymore. If he wants to see you, he’ll have to pick you up, or I’ll take you to his place. That also means he won’t be riding with me to pick you up from school. If he wants to do that, he can borrow my car and go himself.
Beyond all that, this back-and-forth, this uncertainty—it’s not healthy for me. And honestly, it stings to think that the beach house will be ready soon, but we won’t all be there together. That Carnaval is coming up, and we won’t be spending the holiday as a family. That my birthday is just around the corner, and instead of celebrating with my family, I’d be with him—when he was the one who chose to walk away. The days keep passing, and nothing is changing between us. No progress, no steps toward reconciliation. So, I have to step out of my comfort zone, just as he does, and make this separation real. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
Still, I can’t help but feel sad about everything we’re missing out on together. Like today, when we were playing, and you held up your little hand and said, “Toca aqui,” which means “high five” in Portuguese.
I don’t know where you learned that—probably at school—but it completely melted my heart. It was the first time you did it, and I taught you that in English, we say "high five."
There are so many little words and phrases you’ve picked up that I have no idea where they came from. And these are the moments your father is missing out on—just like I’ll miss out on special moments when you're with him. But I guess that’s what separation is, right? Learning to live with what we can’t have.
