ll Down- Mat Kearney ll
name/age; Sienna Damani/ 25
occupation; Blogger
scenario; After her boyfriend, the love of her life, dies, Sienna discovers she is pregnant with his baby and turns to her best friend for help, realizing she can't do this on her own.
likes; Organic food, pink lemonade, lip gloss, sunglasses, blogging, water, Victoria's Secert, yoga, summer.
dislikes; Junk food, driving, people who talk too much, uncomfortable shoes, messy beds, funerals, crazy parties, feeling alone.
bio; Sienna Damani… name ring a bell? She may not be the biggest, but nowadays she's definitely known. Sienna is the Australian goddess, a popular name in the blogging universe. Sienna's blog juggles the topics of everything in her life- clothing, food, traveling, etc. Anything you can think of, really. But her blog is about to have a new topic- pregnancy. Sienna's boyfriend, Jonathan, recently was killed in a tragic car crash. Sienna fell into a deep depression, and at his funeral, she discovered that she was pregnant. Sienna was in shock and didn't know what to do. She told her best friend, Orlando, and they decided they were going to make it work and that he was going to help her through it. So here she is, living together with him, not too far into her pregnancy, but hanging in there with the help of Orlando. 
collection/storyboard; http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/collection?id=2063980
model; Miranda Kerr
taken by; @deidra-le-reve
>describe your family; 
It's just Orlando and I, technically, although he's not the biological father, he's definitely taken over the father role, or will, at least. My family is back in Australia, Jonathan's family is here in Toronto, though, so I still consider them my family away from family. 

>how do you feel about being pregnant?
I have mixed feelings. I love it, yet thinking about it makes me sad because I know that whether the baby is a boy or a girl, he/she will remind me of Jonathan and I don't know how I'm going to handle it. I think I might like having him/her though… it'll be like a tiny piece of Jonathan I know I'll have forever. 

>why should you be chosen for What To Expect...?
I think I should be chosen because my story is definitely an original one. I'm doing this not quite on my own, with help, but it's all kinda surreal, everything that has happened and I would love to share my story with the world. 
I sigh, looking down at the comfortable, white dress I had chosen this morning. Or should I say this 'mourning'. I didn't know whether to wear black or another color. For a second, I thought maybe wearing black into a church was considered disrespectful, or something like that. I settled on white and nude. Not necessarily too sad, but not too happy, either. A fine line in-between.

It was seven a.m. And here I was at the local church, standing tall amongst the others in my pew. The sunlight streams in through the stained glass windows, casting shadows of different colors over people's faces and bodies. I watch the old ladies who are related to Jonathan sniffle, pulling out their silk handkerchiefs and blowing their noses into them, tears streaming down their face as the priest goes on about death and new life. I look down at my shoes, down at the commercial carpeting. This church is so beautiful, I think to myself. If only we were meeting here on a happier occasion. 

The fine, mahogany casket lies up front, white roses (his favorite flower) surrounding it. I know that Jonathan's body lies inside, and that thought alone makes my stomach twist and convulse, the fruit parfait with low fat, goat's milk yogurt and fresh granola almost wanting to come up. It's actually been this way since Jonathan died, just a few days ago. It's been a blur of course, but I'd been feeling different. My nauseousness increasing, bad lower backaches taking over, headaches killing my mind and I had missed my period. Strange, but it could just be the stress, right? 

They were burying Jonathan after this. They had the viewing yesterday, and today was the final service before they put him in the ground, where he'd be lowered, dirt poured over it, and gone forever. I'd never get to see his sweet, smiling face after I got home. I'd never get to see anything of him. I'd never get to hear his laugh, hear his voice tell me how beautiful I am and how much he loved me. 
He really would be gone forever. 

I wipe a tear away, feeling nauseous suddenly. But it isn't normal nausea. It's bad… and soon I can actually feel it coming up. Up, up, up as I cover my hand over my mouth, excusing myself silently as I exit the pew, quickly running to the back of the church and downstairs, into the basements where the bathroom is. People mutter and whisper as I walk by and I know it's disrespectful, doing this while it's my boyfriend's funeral service. But I can't help it. I could't just vomit over the little old ladies, could I?

Once in the bathroom, everything I had consumed that day comes up and out. I wipe my mouth with some toilet paper before flushing, coming out of the stall and washing my hands thoroughly. I stare at myself in the mirror. Something wasn't right. I could feel it. I needed to find out what. I had a feeling I might already know.

I head back into the pew, the whole church staring at me as I prance my way back. I stay for the rest, until the priest announces where he'll be buried and how we're welcome to come and see him one final time. 
I leave with everyone else, the crowd being ushered out of the large, picturesque church. Once in my car, I drive. But not to the cemetery like everyone else, instead I head straight for he nearest drugstore. 

I wander through the aisles, finally getting to the right one. The one that contains pregnancy tests. I grab three, going up and paying for them. "Do you guys have a bathroom in here?" I ask, my Australian accent low and hushed. 

The check out lady, c*cks her head to the right, "Straight to the right, first door," She instructs, and I nod. 

"Thanks," I say, taking the nearly transparent plastic bag and heading for the bathroom. 
There, I take the test, one at a time. I bought three just to be safe. I mean, what if one was inaccurate? This was something major. I had to be sure. It was serious. 

It's a one room bathroom, no stalls, so I have it all to myself. After awaiting the approximate time, I glance over, looking at the Clear Blue Easy. Oh no. 

There, right on it, it says positive. 
It's positive. 

I take the next two. 

I'm screwed. I can't be pregnant. I can't be. This can't be happening.
On one hand, I'm happy. I've always wanted to be a mother. Jonathan and I always tried, but it never worked. And now… he's… dead. He's not here to see this… to know that we're going to have a baby… that /I'm/ going to have a baby. 

I throw the tests away, burying them in the trash and hurrying out of the store, shaking my head all the way. Once in my car, I break down. I let the tears come flowing out of my blue eyes, burying my face in my hands. How could this happen? Well, I know how it could happen, but why? Why now? Why so suddenly, right when Jonathan is no longer here. Oh, how I could use him right now. 

After a few minutes of crying, I drive to the graveyard, making my way up the hilly area, my heels sinking in all the way. I push my way up to the front. People have already gathered, but I stand so close, watching the casket lower, lower, lower silently into the ground, until it's fully gone. Down, deep in the earth. 
And it all hits me… he's gone. 
He's gone, and I'm stuck here. 

I'm stuck here, pregnant with his baby.
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@ocean-blue-xo Thank you Helen! :D

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LOVE! Aw, you and Miranda K just go perfectly together

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@ingrid Awh, thank you!

Wrote 4 years ago
omg this is amazing.



I leave beauty everywhere

I leave beauty everywhere

“Love of beauty is taste, the creation of beauty is art.”
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Oh,so glamorous

Oh,so glamorous

welcome to a new group!join us
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“Glamour is what makes a man ask for your telephone number. But it also is what makes a woman ask for the name of your dressmaker.”

we watch the world around us with glittering eyes.

we watch the world around us with glittering eyes.

the girls who love talking in british accents about nothing in particular, laughing hysterically at themselves because they CAN. the girls who will scarf down a cupcake- the whole damn thing, frosting and all, without worrying about the calories. the girls who make 11:11 wishes, again and again, praying and hoping that they might just possibly come true, that one in a million chance. the girls who don’t worry about being perfect, because they know that being perfect is so overrated and they would much rather be themselves. the girls who dare to have dreams, dreams so out of this world they can’t help but be extraordinary. and here’s to the girls who have the guts to go for what they want and make their dreams a reality, living their lives to the absolute fullest.
yes, my dears. here’s to you.
{ this is a FASHION group, so please submit only fashion sets, otherwise they will be rejected. thank you. }
est. april 17, 2010.


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4th place in group contest: auditions

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