“I cried to the nurse on the hotline, ‘It sounds like he has fluid in his chest.’ I would sit nursing my son, crying endlessly in that rocking chair. Every breath my son took heightened my already over-the-top anxiety attack. I knew it wasn’t just anxiety. It was something more. This was the start of so many triggers.”
“The table that is meant for you, will have an open chair.”
“They run towards the danger, as everyone else runs the other way. They’ve made choices that will follow them for the rest of their lives. They’ve been the last face many have seen as they drew their last breath, those images seared in their minds for all time.”
“It was a Sunday afternoon. I cried for the WHOLE service. I sat alone in a row towards the back. I was told by my Pastor if I attempted suicide, I would go to hell. I was told by my elder I was beyond reaching, not worth saving – I had fallen too far for God to find me. Trusted friends told me if I had stronger faith and prayed more, I wouldn’t need anti-depressants. I was told my depression was a result of my sin. But as far as I knew, my only repeated offense was existing.”
“I didn’t know that all the days of you asking me for my time, would turn into me asking you for yours. I didn’t know how fast the years would fly by.”
“Another day, another sob fest about something that broke his little heart. I will painfully admit, I don’t always handle his sensitivities in the most patient way. ‘Mommy, I’m disappointed I didn’t get a date with you today.’ But there’s not one part of me that wants to ‘toughen him up.'”
“I go to bed and beat myself up for all the things I didn’t do perfectly that day. They go to bed with smiles, and I fall asleep with a panic attack. I see scars everywhere from the life I’ve survived.”
“How did I ever think motherhood would be easy, magical, dreamy? My mind started racing with questions. I let myself wallow in self-pity for about 24 hours, and then I decided I would not give in.”
