“Things came to a boiling point. I ran all the way back to my house, flew up the stairs, locked the door, and melted into tears, gasps. The police didn’t help. ‘He hasn’t hurt her yet. We can’t do anything.’ He hadn’t hurt me YET. Imagine my 10-year-old brain trying to process this. How could I feel safe? All of my innocence, comfort went out the window. Every morning, he gazed at me from my bus stop.”
“‘Natalie. He died.’ I can still remember it like yesterday. Being woken up in my freshman year dorm from a call. All I remember next is screaming, ‘No, no, no, no, no!’ Dead. Died. Gone. As time went on, I started feeling sick. Very sick.”
“She was suffering. The nurse wanted to try another medication to help ease her pain. Our daughter had an immediate reaction and stopped breathing. My baby was dying in my living room. Matt was racing home from work. ‘Please never let her suffer this way ever again.’ My heart couldn’t handle watching my baby endure this. Her body was tired. She’s now an angel in heaven.”
“My gynecologists had never touched me anywhere except the obvious pink parts. This exam was different. I felt her palpate the right side of neck. She returned to that one spot 3 times. I was frantic. Then, I let go and let life happen.”
“I was losing clumps of hair. I assumed it was stress because we just moved for my husband’s job. My doctor asked about my children. She was the first doctor who actually had a conversation with me. Then she dropped a bomb. ‘I’m prescribing you an anti depressant.’ I left the appointment bawling. ‘Who does she think she is!? She didn’t know everything I’ve been through!'”
“After an hour, the other moms packed up their girls to go over to ballet class. As the 3 other girls galloped around excitedly while their mothers located shoes, my daughter crawled into my lap. I clung to her with matching heartache. We weren’t just saying no to ballet for the day. We were saying goodbye to a childhood.”
“I came home from work, tired and weary. I crawled out of my car and shuffled past it. The open space where the mini fridge USED to be. ‘Did I get burglarized?’ Then, steam poured from my ears. ‘Teenagers!!!,’ I exclaimed. I balled my fists, losing my ever-loving mind. Oh, they know. Momma is ticked.”
“David is autistic, has no communication skills, and is completely homebound due to medical conditions. He has never had a birthday party with children his own age. His outings outside the home are severely limited. Recently, his grandmother, who is one of his best friends, passed away. I knew he was lonely. How could he not be? Then, for the first time, he spoke. I was floored.”
“I dream of that day baby girl, when I finally get to hold you in my arms, run my fingers through your curly blonde hair, kiss your chubby cheeks, look into your big beautiful eyes and tell you how much I love you.”
“Each day, we wait and wonder. Will there be a new word? Does she understand ours? Being a mother and knowing how to speak to your child that cannot speak. When they create the word for that – let me know.”
