“I stared at the doctor with tears rolling down my face. ‘Go through with what? My child I have dreamed about since I was a little girl?’ She was asking me if I wanted to end my pregnancy because my son had a birth defect that was not life-threatening.”
“The children are the reason she stays, but the children are the reason she wants to go. Her message was not asking me for help or what I thought she should do, but you how I found the strength to do it all. I was that woman 12 months ago.”
“I didn’t want to face it. It was scary and unknown. My husband had an even more difficult time. He stood fast, insisting Beckham just needed time. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“We are existing in a completely foreign environment, trying to keep ourselves from drowning, all while trying to do the best by kids. Parents, we need to be a team. We need you to stand in the gaps. We are doing absolutely everything we can.”
“’This defect is so rare, you’ll probably never see it in your lifetime.’ I felt like I was in a dream. I pinched myself a few times. What snapped me back to reality was the doctor saying, ‘I can do these surgeries, but his chance of survival is slim.’ I wanted the nightmare to end.”
“At 5.30 a.m., a friend was in our bedroom. ‘Wake up, he’s hurt his head!’ His skull was shattered. I collapsed on him and cried like I never cried in my life. How was I going to tell the boys what happened to their daddy? I rang the ICU to tell them of my wishes.”
“This was a man I️ would’ve given my last breath for, but chances are, he’d be the one taking it from me. I painted the most beautiful picture of our family while living in horror. Five and a half years ago, I would’ve said it could never be me.”
“I got a call I could have never expected. ‘The doctor thinks I may have cancer.’ Our dreams and future slipped out of our grasp. I looked at that little stick and thought, ‘Maybe things are looking up after all.’ But I just had this feeling deep down in my gut something wasn’t right.’”
“A text came through that said, ‘Get to the hospital now.’ I thought it was a typo. His dad carried his limp and lifeless body into the hospital. I was shaking and screaming. ‘No! Not my baby, not my Ricky.”
“Her body was too small to close over her swollen heart. Piles of machinery overwhelmed her metal crib. I hesitantly brought a small box into the ICU. Inside was a blanket and matching hair bow. I was shocked by how stunning she looked.”
