LJ Herman is a former editor at Love What Matters and lives in Colorado. LJ is a concert, ticket and technology enthusiast. He has seen the Dave Mathews Band over one hundred times and counting.
‘I threw my baby in a dumpster. No goodbyes, no tears.’
“My hands shook as I grabbed a Dixie cup and gently scooped this little piece of flesh, my heart, my blood, from its watery grave. A moment later, I left the bathroom. My little burden wrapped in paper towels, and put it in my purse.”
‘That girl wears so much makeup, she must be high maintenance. She’s pretty, so she’s dumb. I see an awful lot of claws out.’
“Growing up, I was often complimented that I was ‘not like other girls’. I loved to play sports, crack jokes and hang out with my brother’s friends. I put my hair in a pony tail and wore blue jeans. And I wasn’t like other girls. Because other girls were… Hmm. I don’t know, exactly.”
‘Our beautifully ‘normal’-looking child just cussed us out and threw a chair. That isn’t your fault any more than it’s mine, or his really. He isn’t a problem, but he is HAVING a problem.’
“When Karen says, ‘Ugh, my kids are so hard! They just called me ‘mean’ in Target. I was so embarrassed!’ I want to shake you and tell you how easy you have it and to hug your kids because they are freaking angels!”
‘I was looking at my phone when my wife asked me a question. She was obviously irritated. She’d asked me the same question twice already. I’d responded ‘sure’ to a non-yes or no question.’
“I was only half listening, screwing around online. It’d been a long day at work. I wanted a mental break. My wife’s lips were drawn to a tight line, her right hand on her hip. So I put my phone down and tried a different approach.”
‘I felt like a building was collapsing on my chest. I had sharp pains. When I got up to get my screaming baby, I fainted. I couldn’t move, so I just sat until my husband came home.’
“I went to the hospital by ambulance and apologized to the paramedics. She asked me ‘why?’ I told her, ‘Because if I wasn’t having a heart attack, I’d feel bad I was wasting people’s time.’ We both laughed at how ridiculous it sounded. But I continued to apologize to everyone.”
‘My mom went all out. I remember thinking how random it seemed. She tried so hard, wanting to make this nice dinner for us. We made fun of her for it.’
“I feel bad about it to this day. What we brushed off as her ditsy-ness was actually the first signs of the disease. I hate myself for the way I acted that day. I feel so bad and so guilty. It kills me.”
‘There are police officers in the hall. ‘I want them to hurt me, mommy! I want them to kill me with their guns!’ He started crying and hitting himself in the head.’
“‘I think he’s manic,’ I say. ‘His moods are rally erratic and I’m worried.’ The nurse looks at me skeptically. Who am I to know about ‘mania?’ It was stupid to bring him here. He has been through hell.”
‘My husband and I met at Dixie Chicken. My neighbor thought he was cute, so I agreed to talk to him for her. Oops.’: Wife says ‘It was luck we got together, but it’s not luck we’ve stayed together’
“I was older. I was over the college scene. I’d been burned a few times. I had zero interest in boys, but my neighbor thought he was cute, so I agreed to go talk to him for her. Oops.”
‘He carried her! I noticed an elderly lady having a rough time. I pointed her out to my husband. She did not have the strength to come up the stairs.’
“Y’all I have to brag on my husband big time! He made me soo proud.”
‘There’s only one of me!,’ you scream. It’s okay to lose it. It’s okay to scream into a pillow. It doesn’t mean you’ve lost. Or you’ve failed. You feel like a bad mother.’
“The day you want them to nap, is the day they’ll be jump on couches. The day you’re going to clean is the day they’re going to throw toys, ask for millions of snacks and draw on walls. The day you have an appointment is the day they sleep in.”