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.
“Instead of celebrating with pizza and cake on my 17th birthday, we sat in the hospital. My addict brother would steal my mom’s medication. A switch flipped in my brain. Suddenly, my wants and needs didn’t matter.”
“His body was saying, ‘This is too much. I can’t fight anymore.’”
“All I wanted was to run down the hall to the NICU, scoop my baby up, and run away. Away from all the seemingly bad news. I didn’t want to know any more.”
“A tight smile on my face and a pang in my heart, I joked along, but something felt off. His painful cries stopped, and his little body became rigid with eyes that would no longer focus. I was done trying to not be the overly sensitive mom – it was time to sound some alarms. After only knowing our son for 5 short days, he was taken away on a helicopter in critical condition.”
“She’s had 100 brain surgeries. I’ve sat alone in a waiting room in the middle of the night after signing consent forms for emergency surgery, not knowing how she was going to be when she made it out. If she made it out. But it’s obvious she’s not giving up.”
“I couldn’t move my toes. I couldn’t move anything without excruciating pain through my entire leg. I was screaming, freaked out at the sight of it. ‘Haven’t I been through enough?’ I was DONE.”
“The hardest thing was breaking our son’s heart. After shedding tears, he proudly wore his ‘Big Brother’ shirt the next day. He told me, ‘Even if sissy looks funny, I’m going to love her just the same. And if anyone makes fun of her, I’ll tell them she is who she is and we love her.’”
“Finn threw up in my arms before the paramedics arrived, but I never put him down. A social worker and chaplain ushered us into a small waiting room and told us, ‘This occuring was a 1 in 100 million chance.’ Something in me knew this was the end. I could feel my heart ripping from my chest. We were not giving up on our boy.”
“The mama we had matched with for adoption, though not due for 16 weeks, was in crisis. I cried uncontrollably. All I saw was the most beautiful, amazing baby boy, fighting to live.”
“After having my own accident that caused a permanent disability, I had to advocate for myself and my kids. 8 of 11 of them are special needs. There are many days I want to pull my hair out, but I never look back and think, ‘Why me?’ I am forever grateful to be their mama.”