Rebecca Balfe is a former editor for Love What Matters. She resides in NYC, owning and rescuing adorable cats. She is an avid Lupus fighter and advocate.

Rebecca Balfe is a former editor for Love What Matters. She resides in NYC, owning and rescuing adorable cats. She is an avid Lupus fighter and advocate.
“What would our daughter have to do to be meaningful? Would she have to talk? Would she have to be able to solve math problems or perform in the school play? Graduating? Getting a job? Getting married? At what point would the doctor say, ‘Ok, you are meaningful now.”
“I started believing the lies. I had no business online dating – it was for people who have more freedom as a single person. I mean, I have a minivan! A minivan doesn’t exactly scream, ‘I’m dating material here,’ you know? What guy would want me?”
“Less than 45 minutes after that call, directly from the hospital, she came home for the first time. It felt a bit chaotic and strange at the same time.”
“Nurses and doctors flooded the bedside of a tiny precious human. My little boy. Alex stood off to the side letting the team work.”
“I know something about one of the children you don’t. You see two children holding hands and playing on a playground. Nothing special, just cute as usual. Children playing like they usually do, like they should be doing. But it is so much more than just that.”
“I became very closed off and did not want to communicate with my husband, the one I was supposed to be sharing my life with. I felt like I was letting him down, when in reality all he wanted from me was the woman he married.”
“Even on my sickest days, my husband is assuring me I’m an amazing mother to our children, and that I am the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.”
“There are many of us invisible parents, with only children we hold in our hearts rather than our arms. We don’t have any other living children to help ease the pain and ache, but let me assure you, our motherhood and fatherhood is valid and important, and our children’s lives matter.”
“I got a call from my best friend’s husband. It was clear he didn’t really know how to say it. ‘If it were me I would want to know.’ My hands and feet got hot and sweaty. It was so many people… so many of my friends were involved. I couldn’t trust anyone. All I could do that week was sob, hysterically sob and compulsively take showers.”
“The doctor inserted her torture device. I remember cursing loudly and then profusely apologizing, as the pain was excruciating. I covered my face and wanted to scream. During this time I felt Nick’s hand fall away. He was on the brink of passing out.”