Emily Richey is a graduate of Pace University NYC. She has written and edited for multiple online platforms, including Love What Matters. She spends her free time petting stray cats.

Emily Richey is a graduate of Pace University NYC. She has written and edited for multiple online platforms, including Love What Matters. She spends her free time petting stray cats.
“I immediately started crying. Why would God decide to make my spine curvy and my back ugly and cause me to have to go through this? This could be my last backflip into the pool. This could be my last time flipping around at the trampoline park.”
“The doctor glanced at my son’s chart, looked up at me, and said, ‘I’m going to go get you in to see the best pediatrician we have.’ I remember running into her arms saying, ‘Thank you. Thank you for finding something.’”
“I was afraid the doctor would put me in the nuthouse if I told her everything. How many 32-year olds have a full page of symptoms? I quickly lost 20 pounds.”
“I sat alone in my car and screamed. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, buddy.’ That was my job throughout his entire life. I WAS SUPPOSED TO SAVE HIM. When I came back to myself, I was a different person.”
“Our teen stayed for a few months with her son. Just enough time for me to get used to make-up all over the counter. When she left, I started leaving my eyeshadow out just so it felt like she was still here.
“I still had the ‘it won’t happen to me’ mentality. When I saw the cardiologist’s number pop up on the phone, I started sweating. For 10 hours, my husband and I sat in the parking garage of the hospital, crying.”
“The first 36 hours of my son’s life were some of the worst of mine. I wanted to turn back the clock and return back to my normal life. In that hospital room, it felt as though nothing would ever feel normal again.”
“My last thought before losing consciousness was that I had killed the car full of people, and those people were my family.”
“First came silence, then fear. We watched helplessly as the nurse administered oxygen. We attempted to rock our baby into heaven. But life had another plan. Now I understand why it’s called The Miracle of Life.”
“I spent the first two weeks of the pregnancy in tears over the fear of miscarrying for the third time. I had some bleeding and it completely crippled me. I was up all night, in tears over the thought of something terrible happening. I felt like my body didn’t work or that, somehow, I was broken.”