“I spent Christmas Day staring at Sunset Boulevard, saying to myself, ‘I wish I was back in New Orleans.’ It was my home. And in just 10 years, from that very moment of despair, my husband and I would be welcoming our newborn daughter home. Now, every choice we make revolves around her. Every holiday is about her.”
“It was an ‘all hands-on deck’ type of tragedy. My kids were so young. His parents flew us to Florida. My only job was to get on the plane with the kids. There was absolutely no obligation to love on the ‘ex-wife.’ They could have easily blamed me for their son’s downward spiral into suicide. They could have chosen to hate, curse, and isolate me from their family. But they didn’t.”
“The news broke me and honestly ruined my pregnancy. I prayed our baby girl would grow, that her little chest would expand to survive this birth. I wanted Paisley to have a life, no matter if it was only for a few seconds or a few years. She deserved the world and I was determined to give it to her.”
“I grew up going to church 3 times a week. Every Sunday, I saw women with their children. The husbands were usually away working. I heard the word ‘struggle’ more times than I could count. I watched with curious eyes. If this was to be my life as a grownup, forget it. I wanted something different. I no longer worried ‘the right man’ would appear and voila, a baby would follow.”
“I’ve been frustrated, tired, and worn out. I have felt walked on, unseen, and undervalued in my place of work, and just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, it did.”
“She left the hospital at one point to run to Walmart. A nurse had just complimented a pair of sandals she was wearing. It was important that my grandma proceed to Walmart immediately to buy her an identical pair. Then she asked about someone who had recently been admitted in the palliative care floor. ‘That’s just terrible. I hope they’re going to be okay,’ she said. This was 72 hours before she passed away.”
“Marital problems, mental health issues, bankruptcy, miscarriage, family discord—they don’t just disappear because it’s December 25th.”
“My brother had such talent. ‘Do you have any idea how hard it was to grow up behind you, in your shadow? You made everything look easy, and it’s not. I have to do this by myself,’ he told me. My heart shattered.”
“They kept this little boy in a room by himself, afraid he would scare the other children. He was not allowed to play, or go outside. It was so heartbreaking. When we finally met him, he was more severely delayed than we knew. He couldn’t barely hold his head up, sit, or stand. It was scary. We held each other and just cried. We had no idea how we were going to handle this.”
“Our teacher tasked us with making little wreaths out of mini pretzels. We worked hard on those. I reached in to grab it, and instinctively knew something was wrong. My heart sank. My little eyes filled with tears. My mom said she loved it anyway. I cried myself to sleep, waking the next morning to sounds of Christmas carols from the kitchen. I shuffled towards the Christmas tree. Was it real? Could it be? I ran to the kitchen, tugged on her pants. ‘Well, look at that,’ she gasped, just as surprised as me.”
