coffee-n-ink

Because Sometimes I Need to Let It Out...

2022-02-10T11:03:00.013-08:00

Is it possible that I am wasting my second chance at life?

I feel like I won the battle again leukemia, but went back to living my old life.

I am back to existing when I said to myself that I would live, not just exist.

I see all of these survivors and fighters doing all the things.

And I'm just here.

Not inspiring anyone.

No building anyone up.

I mean, I'm alive which is a huge deal, but what am I doing with this one big life I have?

I'm reading all the books, making meals, travelling, working, being a mama and wife...but is that enough?

I feel like I'm living the FOMO game.

And the comparison game.

Any game that makes me feel less than.

It frustrates me.

You know what else gets me?

Lexapro.

I need to take meds to feel okay.

If I miss a day or two, my depression attacks full force.

I get super low and wonder what the hell is wrong with me.

Then I remember: you didn't take your meds today.

Do you wish I was doing more as a survivor?

Should I be screaming it from the rooftops?

Or leave it all behind and just be...

I miss this place.

Writing out my feelings and thinking I have people that care out there (other than my family).

That my words matter again.

But these are the only words I have left.

Talk soon?

Nay

PhotoWall to the Rescue!

2021-06-08T07:27:00.001-07:00

PhotoWall contacted me again last month to continue making my house a home! I was so thrilled that they thought of me again. This time I wanted something that would go with my black/grey/brown living room.

Last time I used PhotoWall, I had put the canvas print over the fireplace. A year has passed and my aesthetic changed, so I moved that canvas print to my dining room-turned-temporary office.

When PhotoWall contacted me again, it was perfect timing. I have a wall that needed love and so I picked this one. Annika helped her Daddy put it together and it was a great bonding time for them. She actually took over at one point. That's how easy it is to put together. Take a look!

The best part about the canvas prints that we have is that the product is incredible. The canvases have been crisp and clear. And after a year, the quality of our original canvas print is still the same! I am beyond happy with the end result.

Here's the thing with the PhotoWall products, they are so easy to put together, make any space even better, and I vouch for them. If you know me, vouching for a company is a very big deal. I have never had a problem with delivery or the product. Between ordering and receiving the campus print, it was here from Sweden within a week! A week!!!!

My friends at PhotoWall want you to have the same experience and are extending a discount for all of you, my loveys. Please use coffeenink25 for 25% off and good for the next two months! Yay!!!!

All My Love to you...as always:

Besos & Hugs,

Nay

This post was sponsored by:

Wall Art by Passionate People

You'll find the perfect wallpaper and prints for you in our collection. We are passionate about helping you transform your home to reflect your personality.

Facebook | Instagram | Pinterest

All opinions are my own. I was offered a free canvas print for this product review. I would never endorse or review a product I didn't believe in. But you already knew that :)

Worthy, huh?

2020-05-06T15:10:00.002-07:00

I am worthy.
These are words I have to remind myself of every.single.moment.

Unfortunately, I don't always hold myself to the highest esteem. I doubt myself in every way and can talk myself out of pretty much anything. I'll tell myself that I am not good enough to do this or that and believe it with every ounce of my being.

I don't exactly know why this is. Could it be that I wasn't raised to believe in myself? Could it have been the jokes that I was too much all the time? I mean it probably plays a small part, but it's not like these things were said to me or implied on a daily basis. Once in a while - but that was how my family was "playful." (I know, right?!)

I truly believe that I was raised to be a typical girl of my time. I was raised that women were second to men. I was raised to feel guilt and be apologetic. This isn't just from my parents, but my culture and religion. I was to repent any time I did something that was for my best interest. Hell, I had to feel guilt because of the abuse. It was my fault, duh.

But I am older now and definitely wiser. I know that none of my childhood abuse was my fault. It took me many years and a lot of writing to understand that within myself. So, for me, that's besides the point. That is my past. Those feelings should stay there.

via @sincerelymedia

So why is it that those are the first thoughts that I go to? If something goes wrong in any way, my first thought is pretty much "what did I do wrong for [insert situation here] to happen?" Why am I self-programmed this way? I mean I get with the childhood I had this is supposed to be normal. But, really? I'm 46 years old. Isn't time to reinvent this notion and turn it into something else.

Instead of "who do you think you are thinking you can do that? Why would you think you'd be good at that? No one will think so, you know?" -

Maybe, just maybe, I could change it around for myself. Instead of speaking words of negativity (and giving myself a literal anxiety attack which in turn becomes a flashback session of when I was five), maybe I could just tell myself to go for it.

Write those words.
Work out.
Speak up.
Don't worry so much.
You got this.
You are worthy.

And maybe, just maybe, you need that reminder, too. Oh you thought I wouldn't share in this newfound (okay, not really that new) knowledge? You know I always reel you in with me, right, lovey?

But how to put these words into action? That. That I don't know. I guess just practice, practice, practice. Every time that negative thought wants to come through:

Let it in the door.
Say "no thanks."
Send it on its way.

Only thing, though?

Keep the door open.
You need to welcome the goodness that will come through.

Worthy?
Hell.To.The.YES!

xoxo,
Nay

Six Feet Apart

2020-05-04T14:47:00.000-07:00

I am practiced at isolation.
Recovering from a bone marrow transplant can do that to you.
I was isolated from anyone who wasn't my doctor, nurse, husband, or blood-related to me for 100 days.
One. Hundred. Days.
Those first 100 days are rough - physically and emotionally.

All those years ago, I understood why I had to isolate myself from others. If I ventured out without a mask, went anywhere near wood, went into the ocean, or ate at a restaurant? It could mean relapse into the Leukemia world. I stayed in the hospital and then home for the whole 100 days. I did as I was told. There was no way around it. When those days were over, we celebrated with an "all-clear" from leukemia and lunch at my favorite peruvian spot.

I wore a mask for the rest of the year whenever I was out...and if you were sick or hadn't had your flu shot, you weren't allowed near me. It was hard times, but it was also temporary. I knew that if I followed the doctor's instructions, it would be better in the long run. I could get back to "normal".

The joke on me? "Normal" never happened. What was normal before cancer was never going to be. Yes, I went back to work over a year later. Yes, I went back to drop off and pick up for the kids. Yes, I went out and did things. Normal, no cancer, things...but life was never the same. Now, I was in my "new normal."

Working part-time.
No hugs or kisses until everyone was showered from the outside germs.
Meat and certain foods upset my stomach and skin.
Sit on the sand at the beach, but don't go in the water.
Home Depot was still off limits because of the wood there.
Flowers? Only fake for me.

I didn't have leukemia anymore. I was officially in remission and just so happy to be alive. I didn't have to miss another birthday. I was in the hospital off and on the first two years because of Graft vs. Host Disease (GVHD), but it wasn't for cancer. That's all that mattered.

I am almost 4 years out from having cancer. Only one more year and the doctors say I will be cured. The first 2-3 years are when the probability of relapse is higher. Having GVHD is actually a good thing for me. In these last few years, I haven't thought much about isolation. Not much at all.

Photo by James Lee on Unsplash

Until...March 2020.
Almost four years of "new normal" and now I have to get used to another "normal". Isolation, again. This time? With the whole world. I would never have imagined that this "newer normal" could happen. It's those first 100 days all over again.

This time, though, everyone is home with me.
Husband.
Three kids.
This time I'm healthy and can do things. Nothing makes me lose my breath this time and I don't get dizzy this time around. So that means, I can work from home and make all the meals, be a teacher to my Deaf 4-year-old, and everything in between. I can do it all! Or can I?

I do it, of course. I didn't know that this would be more emotionally exhausting than the 100 days I experienced all those years ago. Don't get me wrong. I love my family. I love cooking and baking. It's just...

There's no me time. I can't just turn on Netflix and binge-watch anything I want all day. Reading a book? If I hide in my room and it's naptime. This is not the time to start a new hobby, let alone a business. See, I was never cut out to be a stay-at-home mom. That's why I work outside of the home...ha!

I don't know how much longer I can stay home like this. So, I ask all of the people who are super excited because their favorite restaurant is open or someone tells you that this is no big deal:

Wear the mask.
Six feet apart.
Cook at home.
Learn to make your favorite coffee.
Social distance.
Safer. At. Home.

I know it's boring. I. Know! Believe me, I've been there. Just take a minute - a minute that might last months maybe - and breathe. You got this. We got this.

Everything is temporary. I promise. How do I know this? How does anyone who has been medically isolated before know that this too shall pass?

Well, I'm still here, right?

xoxo,
Nay

Thanks, 45 - it's been real...

2020-04-29T17:21:00.001-07:00

This is the last day of my 45th year of life.

I've sat down to this space wanting to document this year the best way I can.
Writing all the words that show what I've gained and lost in these last 365 days.
Thinking about who was here last April and who is somewhere else now.
So many changes and yet...

This time last year, my family and I were moving into our new home. This home that made our lives so much easier. Our kids across the street from their schools and not having to cross a main boulevard that eased this mama's heart every day at 2:30pm.

This time last year I celebrated with my family - with a single bundlet and a tiny candle. My husband and three kids were here, but also a friend I had just reconnected with. She was here with her husband and two girls. Everything felt exactly the way it should be. All I needed was around that table. All the people I loved and treasured.

Months passed by, we had our first get-togethers in this house. From a baby shower to birthday parties, this house felt the love.

There was also a life happening outside of this home. We travelled this year - road trips and a plane ride. Up and down the California coast, weekend trips to Las Vegas, and even an impromptu overnighter to a friend's house in Arizona.

I ended relationships this year. That friend at my birthday separated from me because of a useless squabble. But as the saying goes, "everything happens for a reason." If she hadn't been around to hold me up those few months, I would probably still be taking crap from people. She showed me that I had to stand up for myself - even if at the end it was to her. I may have ended that relationship with her, but after a while, it didn't hurt so much. I believe she was there when I needed it. I wish her well.

Although I ended relationships with those that raised me or hurt me, I opened myself up to new relationships. I began to really see who the important people were in my life. I started talking to people who made me feel less judged and really told them how I felt about them and what I wanted in the relationship. This has been the best form of self love I have ever given to myself.

I added so many thing to my List - the mental one I made when I was fighting cancer. Turns out I know how to cook and I enjoy it! I'm also reading again. Simple joys, loveys.

I was in the hospital again this year. Although it was a bit scary, if I hadn't been there I would have never met the beautiful soul that was Jennifer "J.Liu" Liu. In November, we met and became instant friends, having so much in common. We planned so many things to do, but they couldn't come true. See, God had other plans. She's been in Heaven, looking over all those she loved, since February 26, 2020. My waffle, I always think of you.

This was the year of many losses. My sweet Uncle Elias - his creative soul and beautiful heart - went to meet His Maker. Jennifer Lewis, my AML sister, succumbed to the evil that is breast cancer. She will always be a Warrior. She left two beautiful souls down here, though. They shine so bright - Claire and Mia are remarkable and truly living for their mama. I'm blessed just knowing these people.

With every loss this year, I gained so much, though.

I've reconnected with my mother's sister. It's a joy to reconnect with someone who knows me the longest. I even took a minute and said hello to my grandmother. If you've ever read this blog and know my history, you'll know that was a huge step for me. I honored my inner child that day and I don't regret a single moment of it.

This 45th year is coming to a close. Although it's ending during a quarantine, that's okay. I've lived in isolation before (self-imposed in my younger years and because of cancer) and what I know: Everything is temporary. This is not forever.

What have I learned this year?
Oh my goodness, so much! Things I already knew and others I had to remind myself of: I am still a warrior. I'm still a survivor. I'm a good wife and an even better mama. I'm a person to rely on and I speak for those who can't speak for themselves. I haven't changed too much this year, but just enough to make a tiny difference. I reinvented Nay. I've made myself into the person I always wanted to be.

I've learned that although loss is inevitable, the gift of gain is all that matters at the end.

That's life.

Here's to 46!

xoxo,
Nay

House to Home (w/ PhotoWall!)

2020-04-08T08:11:00.001-07:00

Hey loveys,

It's been so long, right?! With all that is going on right now, I wanted to stop by to say HEY! and let you know what's going on in my life lately.

I've been doing a lot of reading, cooking up a storm, working from home, trying to stay sane while doing so, and of course being with my little family during all the craziness that is our world right now.

Thankfully I am able to stay home to work (doctor's orders) and start doing all those little projects I always wanted to do.

It can be so hard to work full-time, be a good wifey and mama, get some self-care in, and be okay. You know how it is...we moved into our new home last April and I'm still trying to get a grasp of how to make this house a home. We lost a room in the process of moving, so what used to be two separate rooms (a family room and a living room) is now one. It's cozier for sure, but it's what I always wanted.

In our last home, we hardly used the living room and it felt so formal. I am not the type to have a room that is never used. So when we moved I was happy to be able to make sure each room was lived in.

via

We've been here a little less than a year and pretty much decorated every wall except the mantel over the fireplace. I had no idea what to do with the space, but knew I wanted something special.

via

And then what happens?! A wonderful surprise:) PhotoWall! Have you heard of them? They are a company that makes all kinds of stuff for your walls...wallpaper, murals, posters, and canvas prints. Photo Wall gave me the opportunity to receive a product and I found just the right canvas print.

via

When I told the hubby about it, he was a little less than thrilled since he knew he'd be putting it together. When my canvas print arrived, it turned out to be the easiest thing to put together. My four-year-old even helped! My hubby was actually fascinated that it was so easy to put together. Literally 20 minutes later and I had a beautiful canvas over my mantle.

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There is definitely more I need to do with the space, but isn't it sooooo nice, loveys?! It makes me happy every time I look at it.

You know what else makes me happy? The folks at PhotoWall are offering you lovely people a 25% discount code by using: naysoriano25 - all the heart emojis!!! Use it now, loveys! You will not be disappointed:)

Thanks for stopping by and don't forget to come by my Instagram to see what else is going in the life of Nay.

Besos,

Nay

This post was sponsored by:

Wall Art by Passionate People

You'll find the perfect wallpaper and prints for you in our collection. We are passionate about helping you transform your home to reflect your personality.

Facebook | Instagram | Pinterest

All opinions are my own. I was offered a free canvas print for this product review. I would never endorse or review a product I didn't believe in. But you already knew that :)

Move Forward

2019-12-09T10:38:00.000-08:00

There are always three sides to a story: my version, their version, and the truth. Only God knows the truth...and this is mine.

Move.
Forward.
This is what I need to keep doing.

There are experiences that have shaped who I am. All of them memorable: some full of joy and others not so much. Some of those experiences would make any sane person cringe. Unfortunately, the memories of the horrific are what attack me. In the middle of the night when it's just me in bed with my thoughts, the memories come back and attack me like knives to my heart.

Having cancer three years ago, triggered so many emotions. When I had once been able to control the flashbacks to a certain extent, cancer was the evil that pushed all the work I'd done on myself right back to step one.

I remember thinking:
"I still have to go through more, God?"
"Haven't I gone through enough already?"
"What did I do to deserve all of these trials?"
But as the saying goes: God only gives you what you can handle. Apparently, a lot. I can and have handled so much in these 45 years of life.

Photo by Vek Labs on Unsplash

I constantly try to train my brain to push back memories and flashbacks. Interestingly enough, I don't have a lot of memories from having leukemia. I remember going through it, but I don't feel the transgressions from it. Yes, I get scared that it will come back. I have been in remission for almost three years, but each time I see a doctor, follow-up or otherwise, I'm anxious.

What if this is the test that shows an abnormality?
What if they ask me to come back for some additional tests?

Thankfully every time, through God's grace, I have been clean. My doctor has said, "perfect" and "amazing" a few times, even.

Right before I got diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML), I was pretty much at the point of feeling like a survivor, not a victim. I had gone though terrible stuff as a child, but I felt comfortable with sharing my story on here and telling my truth. It was okay. I still blamed myself some, but was getting to a point where I was protecting my inner child. I was getting to the point that I didn't get attacked at night with nightmares and thoughts of was done to me. I wasn't worried about not being safe. I didn't have to talk about it to anyone. I didn't feel like I needed help resolving issues. I was able to write about it. I was out of the dark. Light was shining on me for once.

Here enters cancer.

I was focused on being positive. It's what the doctor told me when I was diagnosed. She said the people who stay positive, survive. Survive I did...again.

No one told me, though, that I would be people's confessional. No one told me that people would divulge their deepest secrets because they thought I'd take it to the grave. No one told me that I'd have to take it from so many...again and again. Things I didn't want to hear, but felt that these people were coming to me because they needed me and had to unload on someone. That someone is me...always me.

My father needed to release and confess as well. He needed to feel like he could tell me anything. Remind me of my childhood and act like he had and was protecting me. He needed to talk about what happened so that he could feel absolved. He was never involved in it, but he didn't protect me either.

He told me about how he found out.
What he felt when he knew it had happened to me.
How he felt betrayed.
How he felt stupid for falling for their lies.
How it affected him.

Never how hard it must've been for me. Not one word to apologize for not seeing the signs, for being naive, for making sure it didn't happen to me. Just how hard it was for him.

This is why I have dissolved this toxic relationship. My father hasn't asked why I stopped talking to him. Well, I take that back. I told him that I needed space because I was going through a difficult time because of my childhood. I've told him that I don't want to hear from him or my mother. And he said, "What did I have to do with your childhood?"

And I thought - Exactly, Papa. Nothing.

I guess he doesn't care or maybe he thinks I'm just a bad daughter. I just got fed up with putting him first when he should have put me there. I got tired of hearing what a difficult child I was to raise.

My flashbacks started when my mom and dad came to help my husband take care of me. So instead of taking care of me, my father reminded me. He wanted to know what happened. He asked questions. Constantly. He wanted to reminisce. He already knew what happened. He didn't need to tell me the marital problems he has with his wife. He didn't need to tell me that my childhood was a lie. He didn't need to tell me what he did on the side. He didn't need to say not to worry, "I haven't left you other siblings."

It was my time to be sick and vulnerable, but he made it about him. All of my life, I put my father on a pedestal...the highest one possible where no one could touch him. I wanted to be his favorite. I wanted to be the one he had the closest relationship to. I wanted him to love me...unconditionally. I wanted him to be proud of me. I feel deep in my soul what a disappointment I am to him.

I didn't become the woman he raised me to be. Or who he thought I should be. I didn't marry the right guy. I am not submissive. I say what's on my mind. If only he knew how hard I tried to be who he wanted but I just couldn't. He was the one who could do no wrong, but now I see the father I thought I had was just a figment of my imagination.

It's not all my dad. My mother knew I was in danger, but let it all happen. All the women of my family knew. None of them protected me because they needed to protect themselves and the image of the perfect family we were supposed to be.

I was the one who told. I let out all the dirty laundry. All of the abuse ended for future generations because of me!

And, yet.

In October of this year, I wrote my father to tell him that I didn't think it was healthy to have a relationship with him. I didn't mention my mother or brother. I am no longer in any contact with the three of them. It was the hardest thing I had to do to keep myself healthy...mentally.

I said this was my side of the story. I didn't say it was everyone's truth. It's my truth. The real story? Only God knows it.

When I meet my Maker, I hope He understands my side of things and forgives me for whatever hurt I inflicted on others. I also hope He sees how at this point in my life I was ready to forgive.

Forgiveness is what needs to be done. But remember, loveys: Just because you forgive does not mean that everything goes back to the way it was. I won't allow myself to ever feel that way or go through those feelings again.

I will slowly forgive and in that process, heal. The healing will be my ultimate gift and step to moving forward.

All my love,
Nay

For the ones that matter...

2019-12-03T11:42:00.000-08:00

I remember what it was like so many years ago when I felt that I lost everything. It was the recession and we had lost our home, cars, money....and friends. And in a little way, I was okay with that. Losing those friends didn't break me. I had moments when I was lonely, of course. I strongly believe that as a woman I need other women in my life that will be my own personal village. All those years ago, I didn't have that. I had my husband and kids and we had uprooted everything to stay afloat and not drown. We persevered...my little mighty family and I got through that darkness and saw the light about four or five years later.

In that time, I filled my loneliness with writing. When that wasn't enough anymore, I started to write this blog. I found a community in blogging and to this day I still have a strong connection with the women I met through this blogging community.

But...in all that time, I missed having a home filled with my friends. Hanging out at a bookstore or grabbing a drink with a girlfriend or just shopping around Target...I missed that. And I don't care what anyone says but taking your phone with you and texting with online friends while doing these things is not the same thing.

Years passed and I got used to it. Being on my own. I had gained and lost friends but I was okay. I didn't feel as though my life was less than. I still had a way of communicating with other women. This blog. I would write my heart and soul into this place and instantly get responses. I opened up my soul here and wrote about things I never thought I would. I felt nestled in this community and taken care of.

Storyteller Necklace

Then, cancer.

This blogging community stepped the hell up. Every step of the way I felt carried and prayed for. I never once felt alone. During those first days of diagnosis, I asked my husband to reach out to an old friend that I hadn't spoken to in years. We had a falling out years before, but she was the first person I thought of when I heard I had cancer. I wanted to see her, well, just in case I didn't make it. She came back into my life and has stayed. I am so thankful to her even when I haven't been at my best.

I survived because of my friends - on and off line. People have come into my life for a reason or a season, but the ones who kept on have always been the only ones I need.

On August 23, 2016, I got my life-saving bone marrow transplant. On that day I truly and genuinely believe I became a new person. I gave myself permission to be who I was supposed to be all along. I was apologetically putting myself first. I became brave enough to say who I wanted in my life and who should be standing next to me.

I chose you, my loveys. I chose my husband and three kids. I chose the friends who wanted to be a part of my life for a lifetime.

I also parted ways with people that had to be for a season. It was difficult and painful in many ways, but I had to d what was best for me.

So, thank you to those of you who stood by me. To those that didn't or couldn't, I understand...

...being a survivor isn't for everyone.

xoxo,
Nay

via

Note: The amazing, authentic, and always supportive, Lisa Leonard sent me the "storyteller necklace" as a reminder to never be afraid to tell my story...thank you, Lisa!

you can call me survivor

2019-10-24T10:37:00.000-07:00

"Yes, girl, YES!"
I thought this as I read these words:

"do you know that feeling; when you're walking through a dark time and you're wondering if hope or joy are even possible? your heart is grieving. and then you feel it--just a hint of light. the smallest ray of hope. and you hold onto it as tightly as you can."

As if someone were speaking directly to me.
As if those words were written for me.
I know the darkness and God only knows how I also know the light. I've learned in such hard ways how to seek the light. When the light enters I grasp for it, wrap myself around it, and hold on for dear life.

I am a survivor. I've said these words to you before, loveys. I know I say this repeatedly, but in my heart of hearts, my core, I know God put me on this earth to survive.

Let me take you back a little bit to why those words above penetrated my soul so deeply as I read them...

Way back for just a minute...

Back to when I was sitting in a hospital room fighting for every inch of my life and thinking to myself, "How am I going to survive this?" I sat there in my hospital bed, scrolling through everyone else's lives, and hoping that what I was going through was just a pause.

Like in a sentence....my life sentence. A semi-colon. And it hit me like a force...I needed to figure out how to make that part of my life just a semi-colon. That what I was experiencing - leukemia - was not the end of my story, but just a pause...and that there was so much more to come.

Enter Lisa Leonard.

I had always admired from afar the beautiful jewelry that Lisa created. I had met her at a blog conference years before and she left an impact on me. She was authentic and her presence felt good...just good. So, as I sat there in bed, I let my fingers do the talking and sent Lisa a direct message through Instagram. I asked if there was a way that I could have something custom made...a pendant with a semi-colon.

A few weeks later, it arrived. I felt complete wearing my necklace. The pendant was simple but so full of meaning. Something so easy yet brimming with my truth. I was going to survive. There were no words for what Lisa had done for me. In that gesture, she filled my hope. She gave me a glimmer of light.

And now...

Years later, three years in remission! All the praise hands! I survived and leukemia didn't take me away. I'm here standing in the light. I didn't let the dark times overtake me.

I have begun to wonder how things work out the way they are supposed to. How you have to go through the pain to feel the healing...

Cancer tried to stop me.
People have tried to bring me into their darkness.
I have risen through my own ashes and reclaimed who I was meant to be.
No more toxic relationships. No more pain from others' words and actions. Only light.
All. The. Light.

So again I have to thank Lisa.

See, I reached out to her again a month or so ago. I told her that I wanted to take a new adventure and tell anyone who will listen about my survival. I wanted to do something new with my writing and I wanted to showcase her jewelry. The semi-colon started it all and, because of her generosity, it was just the beginning of what my survival would look like.

MY sunburst out of the dark.

I wear it proudly to remind myself that the dark times will come, but that the light will be there afterward. The sunburst stacking ring is now another symbol of my strength.

It says...
You can knock me down.
You can disown me.
You can let me go.

But I know I am more. I have that sun bursting out of me. That glimmer of hope that says,

"You can call me survivor."

~nay~

a real birthday party

2019-08-26T10:22:00.000-07:00

Little Miss Annika is turning 4 YEARS OLD soon! Can you believe it?! I definitely can’t.

We were never able to give Annika a proper birthday party since I was diagnosed within eight months after her birth. Her first birthday was at home while I watched from my hospital room on FaceTime. Her next couple of birthdays I was either still quarantined to be in contact with other people or just too sick. We celebrated in small ways, just the five of us.

My hubby and I were talking about it and decided that this is the year! I feel great and she’s old enough to really understand. We know how to sign the happy birthday song to her and she’s been getting that when a cake comes out with candles, you blow!

I discovered a great online card company, Basic Invite, and I am in love with all the options. We’ve decided to do a Bowling Day Birthday Party. Inviting friends that family and perfect day for Annika.

So I started exploring Basic Invite’s website for ideas. There are so many invites! There are party invites and cute birthday invitations and ohmygoodness I was thrilled to start planning!

This one was my favorite!

But look at this one! Maybe I can do a Carnival Theme instead...

Decisions, decisions...

Don't you just love it?!

I asked the folks at Basic Invite for a bunch of information and so I'm sharing it with you, of course! And hang tight because I have a little surprise for you once you read about it all (can you say DISCOUNT!?!)

Almost Unlimited Colors - Basic Invite is one of the few websites that allows customers almost unlimited color options with instant previews online. Once you select a design you can change the color of each element on the card to over 180 different color options so you can make sure the card is exactly how you want it down to the littlest detail. This is what we feel sets us apart from almost any other online stationery company and is what we feel is our biggest draw.

Custom Samples - Basic Invite is one of the few websites that allows customers the ability to order a printed sample of their actual invitation so they can see exactly how it will print as well as the paper quality before they ever have to place their final order.

Over 40 Different Colors of Envelopes - Basic Invite is just as colorful with our envelopes as we are with our invitations. Customers can choose from over 40 different colors when it comes to their envelopes so that they can make their invitation stand out even before it is opened. All of our envelopes are peel and seal so the envelopes can be quickly and securely closed.

Address Capturing Service - Basic Invite offers an address capturing service that allows customers to simply share a link on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, or any other form of social media to request their friends and family’s addresses which will be stored in the customer’s account and can then be selected during the design process. Basic Invite offers recipient address printing at no cost on all Christmas card orders.

Foil - Foil cards are available in gold, silver, and rose gold. Customers can choose flat or raised foil on all of Basic Invite’s foil designs.

Is that not amazing!? Miah's bday is coming up soon too and I absolutely loved all of this for her NUMBER 16...

About that discount I was telling you about, loveys. The folks at Basic Invite are giving all of you

15% off with coupon code: 15FF51

YASS BABES!

I can't wait to show all of you how Annika's party goes. You know when you can't find me here, just go to Instagram and I'm there:)

Besos and Hugs,

Nay

Want to order your own invites - here are the deets:

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Dear Warrior,

2019-08-01T09:44:00.003-07:00

Photo by Brooke Cagle on Unsplash

Dear Warrior,

I see you.

I see you walking through this life with doubt if you'll survive this one big life. I feel you when you're thinking all the thoughts. Will you have to go through this pain forever? Will you always be filled with dread? Will you always have the lingering thought in the back of your head, "Am I going to get through this?"

In one answer, even if it's not believable: Yes.

It could be anything in your life. Anything. But, you...You will defeat this obstacle.

Sometimes I feel like I'm fooling the universe by surviving all that I have. From a childhood that no child should go through to a diagnosis of cancer, I have....survived. I've been a warrior when no one fought for me and when I've had a whole army behind me, holding me up when I didn't have the strength to go on. That made all the difference.

In a few weeks, I'll be celebrating three years of remission from Acute Myeloid Luekemia (AML). This morning, driving into work, listening to my empowerment playlist, I realized that today is the first day of August. The start of my ReBirthday month. I felt a little teary-eyed, tears of accomplishment, tears that didn't fall because of sadness but because, yet again, I have survived.

So to you, my fellow warrior...

If you have survived, you've won.
If you are currently fighting, you're winning just because you can.
If you have relapsed, you are still winning. You beat it once, you'll do it again.
If you are no longer with us because this stupid disease took you way too soon, you still won. You're dancing in freedom.

And another thought you need to know.

There is something inside of you, warrior, that only you know. In the darkest of nights, even the brightest of mornings, when all is quiet and it's just you and God...

You know how far you've come.
You know that a little cancer won't defeat your spirit.
You know there is something inside of you that no one else knows...

You. Are. The. Storm.

I feel this in every fiber of my being. Yes, every single time I go to a follow up with a doctor I fear that they'll tell me that cancer has won and is back. Every. Single. Time. But with every doubt, I also feel super powerful. I know deep down in the space that no one knows but me that even if it does happen again, I'll be ready. I don't stand down easily.

I don't want to tempt fate, though, but I'm here to say, "I've got this! I'm also ready for what you want to throw at me." Every day I wake up thankful to be given one more morning to rise. I rise.

You do, too.

And to you, my fierce love, the one who just found out - the one who just heard those words, "You have cancer,"- you are not alone.

This is a journey. Yes, I know people will say, "I hate when people say that! They don't know what I'm going through! They don't know how I feel!" Lovey, I do. Cancer was the last damn thing I wanted to happen. I hate that it happened to me - that it took my family to places I never wanted them to go - but it was a part of my life I had to go through. I promise you that it will hurt like hell, but it will leave you with hope. Hope and strength you never knew you had. There is light at the end. Pinky swear.

You'll learn this about everything...things you never thought about until now.

It's not just about cancer, either. It's about who we are at the times that matter. It's who we are when no one is looking.

I see you.

and...

I'm proud of who you are. Who you are becoming each day and who you will be in this mighty, big world.

I see you...and I'm happy with what is there.

With all my love,
Nay

Love-Hate & a Two-Year-Old ( aka When you try to do a product review with a two-year-old)

2018-04-13T08:52:00.000-07:00

I am an almost 44-year-old woman with a 2 1/2 year old.

Being 29 with a two-year-old and 44 with a two-year-old is a huge difference! I'm old now...like, "exhausted all the time and not a lot of patience" old. But, oh how I love this two-year-old of mine! She's feisty, sassy, and gets her way with almost everything.

Who am I kidding? Almost everything? Bahahaha! She gets away with everything. Sigh.

My hubby kids that Annika and I have a love-hate relationship. I truly believe that although she loves me fiercely, she also kinda can't stand me.

Case in point:
I could be cuddling, watching Moana/Boss Baby/Sing for the 100th time, with Annika, perfectly content, right? Then Daddy walks in from anywhere in the house, and she shoves me, cries out, "OP!" and runs to said father. (Op = Stop, by the way.)

Or

Hubby is rubbing Annika's back, facing him, and she can tell if I start rubbing her back. She then proceeds with the "Op!" followed by a grunt and a straight up mad-dog look.

Yeah. Fun.

But, she loves me. I know she does. Lucas was the same way and now look at him. Totally loves me even though he might prefer Daddy just a little more. But, I still have Miah. Right? Oh, dear God. I promise I'm the cooler parent. Really!

Anyway, why is this all so important? Well, when you want to take some product photos with the two-year-old who can't really stand you, it doesn't work out that great. I tried everything with Annika to take a photo "reading" her new books.

After writing this post, I received THE BEST email for a parent of a Deaf/Hard of Hearing child. DawnSignPress sent us books and a story time movie in American Sign Language. In ASL, loveys!!

A. S. L. (!!!)

Do you know how extremely difficult it is to find books with the characters signing? It is extremely difficult. So when a publishing company wants to send you books so that your two-year-old who happens to be deaf can "read"? Ohmygoodness, you say YES!

So as a thank you, I wanted to take photos of her with the book, etc. I had it all perfectly pictured in my head. She'd be wearing her ASL Be Kind t-shirt, sitting on a nice fuzzy blanket in the backyard with the just-bloomed roses in the background.

So that didn't happen.

Books were thrown, blanket crumpled, and Annika storming off to play with those dang barking toy dogs someone gave her to torture me.

You have to laugh, though. Why? Well...

Later that night, my husband sits in bed with Annika and this happens.

See, what I mean? Love-hate.

But, God, do I love this kid! What would I do without her, right? Life would definitely not be complete. So, I deal until she realizes that I'm the cool one. (Wink.)

Now the books? Oh, they behaved amazingly.

I had to hold them down a little, but they were cool.

xoxo,
Nay

Thank you so much to Susan Gold Consulting for reaching out and sending such an awesome package of books and video from DawnSignPress. Such a blessing!

Check Out the Books and Products they sent me:

Once Upon a Sign: Goldilocks and the Three Bears

and

American Sign Language Babies Collection

Well, That Escalated Quickly

2018-04-06T12:57:00.002-07:00

When did it become okay to take a photo of your feet and legs while you're taking a bath? No, I mean, really? How is that normal?? (As I proceed to show you said photo)

I'm laying here in my bath, tapping out all these words into a phone so it can later be transferred to a blog post (this one). I've noticed that I don't write words in pen anymore. Ink no longer touches paper in my life. I use to fill up journal after journal of my daily - who am I kidding, almost every few hours - thoughts. They were always private. And now I still "journal" but it's online for anyone to read.

There are so many things I want to write.

Like how "This Is Us" affects me as I binge-watch every episode I can on Hulu every night.
See, I got on the TIU train a little late and just started watching last month. So, no, I haven't been living under a rock. It's just life. It gets in the way a lot. Anyway, so I'm watching TIU last night and it's the episode called Number Two. The one with the miscarriage. (Trying not to make this a spoiler just in case you're like me and just started watching) Just like the character, I was about six weeks along, got super excited, told everyone...It was two years after my oldest daughter was born and we had planned the next sibling out perfectly. And because you don't plan life because it's already planned out for you, I had a miscarriage. I remember the feeling of pretending like it was okay, that it happens to everyone, that it wasn't my fault, it wasn't God's fault either, that I should treat it like my period was just really late. And I pretended that pretty well for maybe a day. Then I just lost it, like I lost the baby. Having to tell everyone that there was no longer a baby. The overwhelming sadness that hit me. I had forgotten all of that until tonight. All the tears and emotions came back as if it were that day in the doctor's office. Laying in a bath, typing this out with tears down my face.
Which of course reminds me of other struggles and pains I've gone through and just try to brush under the rug.

Cancer.

I absolutely fucking hate that I had cancer. There I said it. I hate that it happened to me. I hate that I had to be strong, that I had to warrior on. I hate seeing people who knew me "before" and they ask what happened. "Where were you?" "Oh, I heard."

Having to talk about it.

Do you know that I talk about cancer, leukemia, fatigue, my diagnosis, not having my period anymore, chemo-brain, my diagnosis, my remission pretty much everyday? How did that become me and all that I am?

It hurts my feelings. That I got it at all but also that it has changed the way people see me. People who know me and especially people who don't know me or are complete strangers.
Because of my new hair, I've been asked if I am my daughter's grandmother or called a sexy manly woman. As my hair grew out from its baldness, I had parents hold their children a little closer if I was standing in line in front of them.

Yeah. That's fun.

I'm not mad...at it or about it. I don't want you to read this and think that. It gets tiring. Talking about it, thinking about it, hearing about it. When you "survive" things, it feels like you have to be strong all the time.

All.The.Time.

And for a long time I felt like I couldn't complain. "But you're alive." or "You're a miracle." or "Don't do this/that/anything." It can definitely take its toll sometimes. I am grateful I am alive. There is nothing in this world than life...breathing. I'm grateful that I have a chance to spend time with my husband, my kids, my best friend...that I can enjoy looking at a cloud-filled sky, or a sunset at the beach, or just watching life around me.

But I hate that it's ever-consuming - cancer. That and that my daughter is pretty much deaf.

That's another thing I talk about, think about, or am asked or commented on. Why must I recount why she's deaf, how we're learning sign language. Or my favorite...hearing: "oh you poor things" or "is she the one that can't hear?" or "can it be fixed?" or "it must be terrible."

Let me be super crystal clear. It's not!

It could be worse. It can always be worse. Trust me, I know.

But I believe she is who she is because it's what God wanted. God blesses us with her deafness. He has. He does. I truly believe that He gave her to us because He knew we were the ones that needed her, not the other way around. He knew we'd fight for her, defend her, and treat her no different...just like the other two kids. He knew that.
So don't feel bad for us...for her. We're good. Trust.

Don't feel sorry for me because of my childhood, miscarriage, leukemia, deaf child...
I am and always have been strong enough.
Exhausted? Sure.
But brave and strong enough to take whatever comes my way, our way?
Definitely.

And...by the way, I will always talk to you about any of this.
Whenever you want.
I am here for you.
You know that.
It's just sometimes...sometimes, I just need to let it all out every so often.

So, um...what was I saying?
Oh yeah.
About taking photos while you're taking a bath...
Um, how is that normal again?

xoxo,
Nay

ps: that was real life right there, huh?

Like I was 20 again

2018-03-27T11:34:00.001-07:00

I may not be able to tell you the names of the streets I walked on everyday. I couldn't tell you the people I met during all my little adventures around the city. I probably wouldn't be able to tell you what each stop I took on the train, either.

I can tell you about the places I worked. I could tell you all about what freshly baked cranberry orange muffins smell like coming out of the oven at 4:30 a.m. I would be able to tell you what it feels like to walk in snow and feel the crunch under your feet. I could probably whip up some coffee, mochas, and that one singular peppermint tea order I would get everyday during the morning rush.

The feeling of the slight wind when a train stops in front of you...
The first time I stepped on the grounds of Harvard Square...
The one time I spent a whole Spring morning in front of that one church near Copley Square...
The multiple little shops I perused in Coolidge Corner...
Those things I remember.

Boston.

I will always remember Boston.

I don't know.
Maybe it's because it was the first time in my life that I felt like I could breathe my own air. It could be that it was the one time in my life that I had a taste of independence. Boston holds a place for me. I didn't live there long at all. I was nineteen, slowly turning twenty-years-old, and there was just life and how to live it in front of me. I absolutely loved every single minute of it.

I like how years later, almost twenty years later, I can remember that moment in my life and what it did for me. I had left Boston behind and thought I had put it in that little pocket in my mind of times forgotten. I guess I was mistaken.

I was reminded of Boston again last year. As I lay in a hospital bed and entertained myself by scrolling through Instagram, I found it. Easily, it all came back to me with the help of a female-owned wellness company.

Brown & Coconut.

I don't know if B & C found me or if it was the other way around. One moment, I'm scrolling through the feed of these two sisters who started an all-natural, plant-based skin and body care company...

...the next, I'm feeling super refreshed and loved.

Brown & Coconut sent me some "just because" samples to try out and OhMyGoodness was I excited. Not because I was getting free product, but their company is based in Boston, Massachusetts.

I know it sounds weird, but that face wash and face oil, every morning and every night I use it, reminds me of that love for Boston. Yes, just using these products brings back wonderful memories.

And a refreshed and clean face, of course.

So thank you, Brown & Coconut. You made this almost 44-year-old woman feel like that almost-twenty-year-old again.

Boston.
Always Boston.

xoxo,
Nay

Everyday Face Wash

Hydrating Face Oil

PS: This was not a sponsored post. This was a post that I hope introduced you to a new female-owned company...because, well, The Future is Female.

This one's about pom-poms

2018-03-26T11:24:00.000-07:00

I have multiple stories that make up the book of my life. Every story has had its lesson. Lessons that I needed and some I didn't want, but lessons nonetheless. All of these stories are important because they built chapters. I could think of my life as stories, chapters...a book, but I'd rather think of them as a string of pom-poms.

via

Each pom-pom have been specific colors. Some have been vibrant and colorful, bright and bold, and others dark and foreboding. I imagine my life began as a bright yellow one, as bright as the sun, a place where this pom-pom would start the string of my life.

I was born on a day that had been bright and warm and ended with a cool breeze as my life began. My mother's water broke super early in the morning and my father sped her out to the hospital. My mother had one of those natural, not one medication, type of births. My father sat in the waiting room as my grandfather got locked out of the house in his boxers when my grandmother drove off to hold my mom's hand while she pushed and pushed.

I had a full head of hair and as my mom's tells it, the nurses would pull it up into a bow when they would bring me to her. I have seen photos of myself as a newborn. She wasn't lying, there was a lot of hair. Photos of me began in a flurry - sleeping in my crib, my father holding me proudly in his arms, my mother sitting by my bassinet. I picture her never leaving my side.

Today, I can't imagine how those pom-pom colors changed as they were strung up on my life string. I can't see how each pom-pom went from the bright sunny yellow and slowly get darker and darker. I didn't feel the changes, but they happened. I really, truly thought every one's colors went dark just like me.

Until I was much older and those pom-poms became multi-colored. Every day was filled with some brightness and darkness. It took me a long time to find the bright and sunny feeling a day could bring, a life could give. I was born with so much potential to receive love, protection, security, serenity, and bliss, but not everyday of my childhood was filled with these.

My path towards adolescence were strung up in black, but slowly and patiently turned to dark purples and blues and into my favorite - that color of twilight, where it's neither dark nor bright, but just calm. It took almost forty years of my life to finally get to a good colored pom-pom. It's not yellow or black, just a good shade of twilight blue.

There have been really great moments laced with some bad ones, but each pom-pom - each lesson - has served me well. I am now enveloped in these lessons and experiences. They brought me to this moment.

It's a moment I was born for...
I now feel bravery everyday. I have survivor as a description of who I am. I hold onto my pom-poms. Grip them tightly in my hands and rise them above my head. It's power that I hold up. It's struggle. It is happiness and bliss.

I went through everything for this moment. I had to go through it to appreciate what I have now. This is clear to me and not to many others, but maybe to some.

I don't focus only on the sunny and bright on my string, neither to those pitch dark ones. I focus and touch the ones that are in between, those are the ones that have become my favorite.

The ones that made it all worthwhile.

I come from...

2018-03-02T08:37:00.002-08:00

A few years ago, I wrote this. There was a writing prompt asking who we were, so I came up with that. I wrote about who I was at that moment and I was so proud of how I represented myself.

I was looking for some writing inspiration and found some journaling prompts with one suggesting this: "I come from". I promised myself after being sick that I wouldn't dwell in the past, but sometimes I have to allow myself to go there so that I can appreciate my now.

I come from...
a birthday party where my parents met and talked all night.
a world of secrets that were discovered too late.
a childhood that should never have been and a marriage that was a mistake.
anxiety and depression and learning about those things way too young.

I also come from...
travel and experiencing different cultures and cities.
seeing the sunrise over the ocean.
breathing in the clean, crisp air of Machu Picchu.
dancing all night and drinking a few too many at the bars in Harvard Square.

I come from...
hours of labor and two hours of pushing my first baby girl.
seizures and an emergency c-section with my son.
a scheduled c-section but my youngest daughter thinking otherwise.
the first words I spoke to each one, "you did it."

I also come from...
struggle - my own and from others.
a cancer diagnosis and remission (556 days to be exact!)
chemotherapy and radiation.
emotional and physical support from an army of friends and family.
#sorianostrong.

I come from...
a sophomore high school English class.
meeting a boy who I never thought in a million years would become my husband.
getting married to him twice because party time!
literally marrying my best friend...the guy God had planned for me forever.

I come from...
strength.
perserverence.
learning to never look back.
figuring out that I'm allowed to say no.
#metoo.

But most importantly, I will always come from...
the mountain of battles I have won and the fear that never took hold of me.
#badass

My Hands are Words

2018-02-21T16:49:00.002-08:00

The feeling of sand slipping through my fingers.
The first time I held my husband's hand.
Seeing my children's hands fold onto my pinky.
Wiping tears from my eyes as I cry.
Clapping through excitement when my children took their first steps.
Putting my hand out the window to feel the wind and rain.

My hands have felt wonderful, magnificent things in my lifetime. I always knew that was what hands were for. They were to touch and feel. Just one of my senses...

via Google Images

My hands were a tool to get things done. To write, to flip pages in my favorite book, to cup my children's cheeks in my palm, to feel the kiss from my husband.

I always took for granted what they could do. I mean, I've used them as anyone else would, but that they'd become so integral to my life. Never thought that, ever.

My hands have become communication. They have become another language for me, for my family. I use my fingers and hands to communicate with my child. They have given me the vehicle to show her love, to explain things to her, to find out what she needs.

My daughter is deaf and it has become one of the most beautiful parts of my life.

When my daughter was born, she couldn't pass the hearing tests doctors gave to infants. At one-month old, she was still unable to pass these tests. A little after she was two-months old, she was diagnosed with Auditory Neuropathy. After two years or so, she is now defined as deaf since she can only hear a little less than 10%...her right ear a little better than her left. None of that matters, really.

When I first knew that she couldn't hear, I didn't cry because of the diagnosis. I cried because she would never hear me sing to her, soothe her with my words, hear me read a story to her, give her advice. I thought only my voice could do all those things, but I was so wrong.

We started learning American Sign Language (ASL) as soon as we could. I am by far not an expert or fluent, but I'm learning. My husband and two other children are as well. It has become the other language in our family. It has become an accompaniment to spoken words.

Our baby girl gets to communicate with us. We sing, read, pray...with our hands. Everyday she learns so much and we do as well. It is amazing! It is a super power I never knew we had.

The first time she signed Mama.
Using my hands to tell her I Love You.
Her fingers making shapes that mean that she's hungry or thirsty or happy or angry.

Fingers are not just for touching, feeling...they are words.

xoxo,
Nay

For more information: https://www.nidcd.nih.gov/health/auditory-neuropathy

It's Been a While

2018-02-20T14:56:00.004-08:00

I don't really know.
It just kind of happened.

Photo by rawpixel.com on Unsplash

I miss it, though.
The clickety-clack of the keyboard, how my thoughts make words, and how those words make it on this screen.

I remember how comfortable I was typing out every thought and just letting the words flow. Now the last time I've written a word was over a year ago...even more than that - not even on paper. There was a point where I felt that my words didn't matter anymore. I just didn't have it in me to write. When I did type things out, it just felt fake. So, I stopped. I'd pretend every so often to boost my ego - to get a comment or two. But then...

Months went by without a word and I got sick. My words were only visible through Instagram with captions. Once I went into remission, a year later, I knew I had to write something to commemorate my journey through AML. It was difficult. Very difficult. I did it and that was it.

I couldn't continue, though. It was too much after cancer...after everything.

But, now here I am. I want to write again. I have no idea what, but I miss this part of myself. This very important part of me that made me feel whole.

I don't really know if it was a good idea to close this part of my life.
Even if I'm the only one who knows about this space.
Even if I'm the only one that knows that I'm doing this again...

I'm just going to do it. I'm going to write about what's going on in my life. One day, my kids will get to read it. One day, I can make it visible to everyone.

For now, it's just me.
And that...
Is.
Enough.

xo - Nay

I Remember Us

2017-06-08T11:50:00.000-07:00

The other day I was driving to an appointment and a song by Anita Baker went on the radio. I was just singing along and then the tears started falling. I cried the whole car ride to the appointment until the song ended.

I was thinking of you.

Do you remember when we bought that Anita Baker's debut cassette? We listened to it every chance we could. We sang every single song at the top of our lungs.

Do you remember our afternoon dates at that Starbucks that overlooked our city? We'd get coffees, share a lemon pound cake, and just talk - not about anything in particular, nothing life-altering.

Do you remember the nights when we'd be in the kitchen, listening to The Beatles of Supremes, cooking and, of course, dancing? How we would laugh and laugh? Just another ordinary day with you?

We used to do so much together. Just being together was good. We talked pretty much about anything, although some things were just known to be taboo. That was okay, though. I didn't mind that - I respected your boundaries. We had a lot of really good moments, but inevitably very bad ones. We shared such a similar childhood that sometimes we just had to step back and not talk about it. Like in any relationship we would argue, but it never lasted too long. We were too close for that.

You were at every celebration and milestone in my life. I was that important to you. Until one day what we had changed. It didn't happen all at once. It happened so gradually, trailing so many years, that when we finally noticed it was too late.

My life started to change and evolve and it was really hard for you. When once I always had the time to hang out and just be with you, now I didn't. I didn't have enough of me to carry you and all the new responsibilities I had. I grew up and became an adult. I think, in your mind, I left you behind.

So you became distant and withdrew into yourself. You let the demons in your mind take control. Anxiety and depression became your friends and you just weren't interested anymore. In all that you used to be and everything we were to each other, you made yourself feel like it never existed. We tried to work it out. We really did - I truly believe that.

But now you're gone - not just physically living somewhere else - but, you're essence is gone. Our words are not the same and I miss you. When we talk now it's different somehow. As of talking to an acquaintance you once knew - the "How are you? Fine."

I miss how it used to be, how we used to be. I miss it all and I hate how your issues took hold of you and didn't let go. I hate that the pills that are supposed to help you only hinder you. I can't stand seeing you exist, but not live. Now we can go days, weeks, sometimes months without even a hello. I know it's no one's fault, really. It's not yours or mine. Life happens and this is the way that makes it easier...for you.

I just need you to know that I miss us. I miss how we grew up together, navigated life together...that I remember who you were and how important we were to each other.

Do you remember walking through the snow to our favorite coffee bar to celebrate my new job?

Do you remember driving at the crack of dawn, listening to Boys II Men, to get to class?

Do you remember prom dress shopping or my outfit for my first day of Kindergarten?

Do you remember when we first met?

Mom, I do.

I remember.

since I'm not doing much...

2017-05-30T13:27:00.003-07:00

I'm currently in the hospital, so why not put some words down instead of just laying here, right?

I don't really want to talk about why I'm in the hospital because all is temporary. It gets tiring talking about cancer and its effects all the time. Well, okay, so I've only talked about a couple of times on here, but in my daily life, it's this thing that lingers over me. So today, I'm going to be thankful that I'm in the hospital for some maintenance and not anything too serious and write. Just write.

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(I'm not a photographer at all, so when I can find free-to-use-however-you-want photos, I'm in. I use Unsplash a lot. So if you're like me, go try it out. They have pretty much anything to help that blog post eye-appealing.)

I've been getting back to reading lately. It was so hard to focus when I first got out of the hospital and finished treatments (chemo brain?) that I couldn't get through a chapter or two before putting a book down. Since I've always been an avid reader, this was heartbreaking to me. In late April, I noticed a lot of people getting into The Handmaid's Tale, so I thought why not? I am so happy I picked it up because I couldn't put it down! That book did it and I've been on a reading kick since. After wrapping up Handmaid, I've read Thirteen Reasons Why (so different and dare I say better than the series) and Big Little Lies. I'm currently reading Small Great Things (Jodi Picoult) and it's not bad. Just finishing it to see if it gets any better, to tell you the truth. Next read will be The Night Circus which is one I never got to read when it came out years ago. Any other book suggestions I should read this summer? Put them in the comments, please.

Lately, my cholesterol has been super high. Oops! Must be all that Netflix and cookies. When the doctor said he wanted to put me on cholesterol meds, I looked up the side effects of Crestor and was like, "Um, I don't think so!" So, doc has agreed to give me a few months to get my butt in gear with my diet. I've cut out all the cookies and junk food and am down a good 5 pounds already. I tried doing a super modified Jillian Michaels workout - I mean modified from the modified girl on the DVD, okay? I got through it and then was dizzy for a half hour. I decided to take the 72hours to recover from the soreness and do baby steps. Walk a little here and there until my stamina comes back. Since I'm in the hospital, I've been doing walking laps around the ward which gives me confidence that I'll be able to do more when I get home. I'm thinking maybe heading to the mall after dropping the kids off at school in the morning and just walking. We'll see. Baby steps.

Still there?

Summer is upon us...two more weeks and the kids will be out of school. I'll only have Miah and Lucas during the day since Annika is in daycare all day. So I'm trying to figure out stuff to do with them so they aren't glued to their phones and tablets all day. Miah (13) will be taking an Algebra class (her request) to help her out for next year and then she said she may be interested in taking a dance class. She is super into all sports, so I thought that was a cool change for her. Lucas (11) wants to take a cooking class. He loves being in the kitchen and I want to nurture that. What if he becomes a chef, you know?! Life made for this mama. I'm thinking we can do a weekly or biweekly movie matinee. I'm pretty restricted with water activities because I'm still so young into remission, but maybe I can find a pool for them while I'm under the shade and read? I also want to explore some coffee or tea places and maybe find some cool places to eat or explore with them. I'd also really like to implement some type of reading for them this summer. What are you doing with your kiddos?

That's about it for now. I'm going to go take a hospital walk and get back to finishing that book. Leave me some love and comments to see what you are up to or how you've been doing. Love ya, my loveys!

one year

2017-05-11T09:53:00.000-07:00

Today marks one year.

One year ago today, I was laying on a hospital bed and the attending doctor at my local hospital held my hand and said, "Mrs. Soriano, you have Acute Myeloid Leukemia." (AML)

Moments before that statement, my husband was sitting at the foot of my bed, looking at me with so much love in his eyes. He already knew something was wrong. They had told him the night before - a night that he didn't sleep, but only did research all night long. A night where he was alone with that information because I had already been admitted from the emergency room - a night where he called my nurse every hour to make sure I was okay, still breathing, still alive.

Before the doctor gave me my diagnosis, I thought everything was okay. I'd been in the hospital before, for various reasons, since I started motherhood. After having a child, it seemed like my body had changed on me. Before having my oldest, I never even stepped into a doctor's office, let alone an emergency room. To be admitted for observation to the hospital really didn't seem like a big deal.

See, I was pretty ignorant. When my ObGyn said my lab results had come back and she wanted me to see a hematologist, I didn't think much of it. I didn't know what a hematologist was. All I knew was that I'd had an abnormal period, my mouth hurt, I was extremely tired, and that the bruise I got two weeks before hadn't gone away. When I was rushed through ER and then admitted overnight and an oncologist came to ask me some questions, it didn't even sink in then. I don't know why. I guess I just had faith that this was just routine and I'd go home the next day.

The next morning, seeing my husband's face, my children sitting on a little sofa on the side, and the doctor saying those words, I can't remember what I responded. I think it was "ok" and tears started to fall. That doctor, though, was so smart. She knew the magic words to get me through - she showed up for me. She said, "The people who survive this are the ones that stay positive. You have to."

And I did. If you followed my AML journey, you know I did. From that moment, I made sure I was my own warrior. I had to - for them...for my babies. My husband walked out to the hospital garden to tell them. Miah (12), Lucas (10), and Annika (8 months) came back to my room and hugged me. The strongest little faces, holding it together for their mama. They were a force to be reckoned with and I made sure that they knew I wasn't going anywhere.

It's been one year since that diagnosis. It was my most trying year of my life. If you have ever read anything in this space, you know I've been through a lot since I was a little girl. But 2016 was really rough. I didn't know that my body could break down on me like that, scream at me as if saying, "that's it! I'm done!" But I had no problem screaming back! I wasn't going to let cancer end me. I've been through way too much in my life to just give up like that. All I can remember is that I had to fight for my kids...for my husband. I couldn't leave them.

The oncologist that visited me the night before my diagnosis had pulled my husband aside that night. In a hospital conference room, he stated pretty bluntly that I may not make it - he asked if I had stated my wishes. The oncologist asked if I had a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) on file. That was what my husband thought about all night. Hey Mr. Negative Oncologist, bite me! I'm still here - alive and kicking! You were wrong!

In the days and weeks to follow, I was transferred to my insurance's home hospital where they did my first bone marrow biopsy. From the results of that painful procedure, the doctors from City of Hope took my case. It turns out that I had a special mutation within the AML. I went through multiple treatments of chemotherapy. I had a seizure, fevers daily, and delirious episodes. I don't remember a lot of it, but the chemo started working. Once the chemo brought my blood levels/numbers down, I started getting platelet and blood donations.

Can I tell you how blessed I felt with those donations? One person told me that she was donating at the donor center and heard someone say, "Please have my donation go to Renee Soriano." The nurse said, "Oh, you too?" It turned out that half of the room was donating platelets and/or blood to me. I've kept every yellow tag that said Designated Donor to remind of the love and support you all gave me. I have every card, every gift, every text message you sent me. I will keep them forever. A symbol that I was never alone in this journey.

On August 23, 2016, I was blessed with a bone marrow donor match. A 22-year-old girl (I overheard a nurse say she was on the east coast!) that I have never met saved my life. I prayed for her from the moment I knew she had been asked until this very day. As of today, I am almost nine months in remission. My prayers were answered. My positivity in the face of cancer worked. I could do hard things.

I always knew that, though. See, I had this army behind me each and every step of the way. Not only my husband and kids, but my extended family and friends were there. You were there. People I had never met, people that were there day in and day out, sending me their positivity, love, prayers. People like you stood beside me, behind me, around me, and made up my #sorianostrong army. I will forever be in your debt.

During the preparation of the transplant process, I didn't know if I could go one. Eleven treatments of radiation can really put a toll on a body plus the continued chemotherapy, you can imagine. I would lay there in bed and pray. I would cry up and tell God to give me strength and that I would leave it all in His hands. His will be done. Those moments were the hardest, but I persisted to get better. There wasn't any other way but to survive.

It's been one year since the diagnosis. I'm here! I'm in this space yelling from my mountain, "I am the warrior! I will not be defeated!"

One year. Yes!

A special thank you to Tausha Wierlo for taking the photos on this post. The photos taken here were from just days following my diagnosis. They remind me how far I've come. #blessed

Updates from Nay {5/20/16}

2016-05-20T13:27:00.002-07:00

Hi everyone. I'm Megan from Absolute Mommy, and Nay has asked me to update her blog today. I'm hoping going forward I'll be able to post updates on Nay and share lots of information with you. Nay is the type of person who is in the throws of life, in the real eye of the storm, but still wants to make sure that you all in blog-land know that she is thinking about you. That Nay, she's a stand up gal!

I've known Nay for five years. We met in blog-land and she has been the kindest, sweetest, most loving friend in my life. She is always the biggest cheerleader, no matter who you are or what you are doing. She is raw and real, and one of the bravest people I know. Bravery is what is going to get her through this new journey.

Today Nay sent me a text and wanted me to tell all of you that she hasn't abandoned you. That she is "fighting the fight". The fight being AML, Acute Myeloid Leukemia. She wants you all to know that she started chemo a week ago today, and today is the last day of that seven day round. Nay says that treatment has had it's ups and downs, but her body has really been giving her a run for her money. She says that she has thrown up and been nauseous, running fevers (101-102) pretty much everyday, and that she's not eating much due to a swollen mouth. Jello and thin smoothies are what she's been enjoying these days.

Wednesday night Nay was transferred to City of Hope Hospital. City of Hope is a research hospital specializing in cancer. When I asked her how she felt about it, she said, "I feel awesome about it". She is now receiving specialized care and according to her text yesterday, they played Motown Hits for an hour yesterday. Her room opens up to the Nurse's station, and they play music for an hour a day to encourage the patients. Which is perfect since Nay loves music. Yesterday it was some Gladys Knight and the Pips. Nay will be at City of Hope until she is through her treatment with is roughly another thirty days or so.

Today, Nay cut her hair in preparation for losing it. This spoke volumes in Nay's ability to focus on what she can control, for now. She sent me a picture with the hashtag #chemohairdontcare. Classic Nay, still I cried, and I'm sure she did too.

#chemohairdontcare

Since her diagnosis last week, I've been racking my brain trying to find ways to help Nay and her family. What can I do so many miles away? That's the hardest part about meeting your tribe online and not in your own neighborhood. Today she asked me to write for her, and I hope I've done her voice justice. You dear readers, can help her too. You can tag her on Instagram with encouragement or funny memes, find her at @coffee-n-ink. You can post to her Coffee-N-Ink Facebook wall. Even better you can click the Go Fund Me link and help with every day expenses. Nay and her family would appreciate it.

Here is the last part of the text from Nay today. She is wearing her brave like a superhero cape. Still, she has words to encourage us all, to reassure us that she is okay. Thanks Nay.

"All in all though, I'm feeling well.

I'm learning to live this new phase of my life as best I can.

Yes, I still cry when I think about having cancer .

but I know this isn't my forever".

Dear Nay,

We hear you. We pray for you. We love you.

Love,

Your Friends in Blog-land.

CHECK OUT THE GO FUND ME PAGE HERE

Whatcha been up to, Nay? (Three Things Thursday)

2016-05-05T05:00:00.000-07:00

A major goal this year is to engage this wonderful blogging community consistently. What better way than to link up with blog friends!

Together, the three of us came up with Three Things Thursday.

Just three things to talk or write about. Five seemed like too many and "one thing" was like we weren't even trying! So any three things that are on your mind. Any three pictures from Instagram. Three complaints about your day/week. Three of your favorite treats. Seriously. Any three things! So write it. Publish it. Yell it from the mountain tops!

Just be sure you come back and link it up here! For some extra fun follow us on Instagram for some three things posts!

Use the #threethingsthursday, and let's start talking!

The Foley Fam

Coffee-n-Ink

Absolute Mommy

Well, after yesterday's post, you definitely know what's been up with me lately :) But, oh lovey! There is so much more!

1.
I am thrilled to say that I have completed my first online college session! Whoop Whoop! I am definitely patting myself on the back for this one. In a short 7 weeks, I've completed two classes towards my degree in Liberal Studies. Oh yeah, didn't tell you that, huh? That's my major. Once that's done (two years), I'll start my Master's in Fine Arts and BAM! I'll be done. Online college is way more time-consuming than I thought it would be, but definitely worth it so I can go at my own pace and finish up these classes fast. I have a two-week break and then I start off my Summer term. Go, Nay!

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2.
Speaking of two weeks off! Those two weeks off start right now. It's going to be awesome because I get to start it off with a Mother's Day weekend and then ELEVATE! I know I've said this before, but other than my birthday, ELEVATE is my absolute favorite time of the year. It's the day totally devoted to all things blogging, networking, bonding, eating, and loving on friends that I only get to see once a year. I'm most excited to see my tribe, the original #elevatehomies of course, but there are so many new women that I'll get to see.
Warning to all the newbies at ELEVATE this year, I'm a hugger. Or as Megan and Kristine like to joke, I'll smush ya....and you'll like it. LOL

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3.
In between all this celebrating and ELEVATing, I'll be doing my other favorite pastime: READING! I will finally have some time to read up on my TBR list. It's only a list of three right now (ha!) but hey, it's a list. Any suggestions on what to read for the next two weeks? Holla at me!

An InLinkz Link-up

I Have a Dysfunctional What?

2016-05-04T08:58:00.000-07:00

PSA: I should preface this post with a little bit of a warning. If you get grossed out easily or don't really appreciate the TMI , I'll put a little asterisk where to stop and start reading again:)

I have been sick off and on for the last few months. I blamed it on Annika being in daycare and bringing those infant and toddler germies home with her. I've had colds, sore throats, low-grade fevers...you get the picture. So, two weekends ago, when I pretty much slept off the whole weekend with my latest ailment, I didn't really think much of it. I was just sick again.

Monday came around and I couldn't get out of bed. My body felt sore and had aches that you feel when you have a fever, but without the fever. I called in sick and slept the day away yet again. Tuesday, Lucas had thrown up the night before, so I kept him home and I passed out again.

*(TMI portion starting...) I got my period on Wednesday. Since having Annika it's been a bit heavier than usual the first two days. Nothing alarming, though. Typically, I'll go through 4-5 pads in a 24-hour period. Well, Thursday arrived and all hell broke loose!

Wednesday night I had to change my pad twice, still not weird for me, by the way. On Thursday morning (I wake up at 5am), I noticed I had stained myself overnight. When taking a shower, the bleeding wouldn't stop. By 7am, when I was dropping off Annika at daycare, I had already stopped at a bathroom twice. Once I got to work and had been there until 9am, I had already gone through my daily allotment of five pads! I had to go home around 10am because I need to change my pants from leaking. When I got home by 10:30am, I had to run to the bathroom because the blood was running down my legs.

What was going on?! I called my OB/Gyn and got an appointment for 4:30pm. From 10:30ish to 4pm, I binge-watched How to Get Away With Murder, and changed my soaked through pads after every episode. It was scary, loveys.*(TMI portion over...)

I got to my OB/Gyn's office finally. She did an ultrasound and a pap smear and pricked my finger for a sample of blood. The verdict? I had Dysfuntional Uterine Bleeding and am anemic. Lots of fun. She's put me on a low-dose birth control pill (which I think is hilarious since I closed the shop after Annika was born), iron and Vitamin C to take three times a day, and prenatal pills since I'm still breastfeeding. All of this will help with my estrogen levels and anemia. I have a follow-up tomorrow to check on my anemia.

Why am I telling you all of this? I don't typically write about personal stuff of this degree. Maybe you don't need to hear about all of that...but, maybe you do? After reading up on Anemia, I've had all the signs for quite a while. I just never thought anything was that wrong. The excessive bleeding during my period is gone, but will it be like this every month? I don't know.

With all of this happening, I noticed something. I don't take care of myself. If my period hadn't put me down for the count, I would never have known that I was anemic. I'd still think I was just getting over my cold from February. I'd still be blaming Annika's daycare for the germs I was attracting. I never thought to book an appointment to get myself checked up. It wasn't my yearly appointment time. I just had to be tough and get through it and not be a wuss. I made excuses - work, school, the kids' school projects, Annika waking up at night, lack of sleep, stress - for it.

Are you doing the same thing? Are you practicing self-care? Book that doctor's appointment. Take an afternoon off during the week. Do you, lovey. And I'll promise to do the same.

Dysfunctional? Duh. Hey doc, you proved me right once again. But I got this. Time to take care of me, right?

Mommy Times Three (Three Things Thursday)

2016-04-21T05:00:00.000-07:00

Just be sure you come back and link it up here! For some extra fun follow us on Instagram for some three things posts!

Use the #threethingsthursday, and let's start talking!

The Foley Fam

Coffee-n-Ink

Absolute Mommy

One. Two. Three.

It's no surprise that when I went to pick three of my favorite Instagram posts from this year (so far), it involved three of my favorite people in the world.

My three kids.

My three little pieces of heaven.

I'm a mom of three!

I sure feel blessed every single day knowing that I am their mother. It feels awesome to hear them call me Mama. It's a wonderful feeling to know that sometimes I am the only one who can make it all better.

My three loveys.

The most important loveys of them all.

That's my One, Two, Three Things of this week.

Super simple and sweet.

Just the way I like it.

An InLinkz Link-up