“I received a message. ‘Hi! I never met my biological dad. I believe his name is Dennis. Does that sound familiar to you?’ My heart sunk. My dad’s name is Dennis. Growing up, my cousin and I were the only 2 kids in our very small, tight-knit family.”
“We have his room all set up for him. We have clothes, toys, a family waiting for him. All the while, others share their highlight reel of adoption and make it look like a breeze. I want to teach him words, love on him, watch him run around the house and yard with his brother and sister. My heart is aching for him to be with us.”
“Ricky rubbed my belly. I looked up at him as we passed a green light. Suddenly, everything went numb and black. I awoke upside down in a ditch, locked in my seat belt, my water broken. I was 41 weeks pregnant. Ricky lay beside me. I held his hand and kept checking his pulse. His breathing slowed. At the hospital, they tried to find my baby’s heartbeat for 10 minutes. ‘This is all a nightmare,’ I kept thinking to myself.”
“Within moments, he mentioned that he would be seeing other people. I said, ‘Pardon me?’ He had everything he could ever want. A housewife making homemade meals every day. A clean house, two beautiful happy boys, a gorgeous house. I took care of myself and couldn’t understand why I was not enough for him.”
“All around you right now are mamas who are terrified to send their kids to school this year. Their hearts break every time their amazing kid comes home with no stories of lunchtime conversations or playground games. My girls no longer have the luxury of living in a perfect, bubble-wrapped world. I, for one, know they are better for it.”
“Our son begged for ‘just one brother.’ Then we met Debbie. She was advocating for a boy with Down syndrome, to find him a forever home. I listened politely, thinking the entire time, ‘Nope, we’re full.’ Soon, we had 7 kids. I had my first-ever surprise pregnancy. I could hear the judgmental comments. ‘Do you know what causes this?’ ‘Boy, aren’t your hands full already?’”
“I took my first dose of the medication to help my body miscarry. It didn’t work. Don’t get me wrong, there was nothing ceremonial about miscarrying on the toilet compared to in an operating room. It was just what I felt was right for me.”
“Before I had children myself, I worked as a full-time nanny. I never judged you, I loved being your helping hand, but I thought your dirty house was just your personality. I’m so sorry. I just didn’t know.”
“Eli is usually the only black student in his classroom. We are not a ‘colorblind’ family. Eli’s hair is a big part of who he is and how he expresses himself. Please don’t let anyone touch it without his permission. Please provide him with colored paper, pencils or markers that represents his skin color. Not many teachers in our small town think about this subject.”
“I walked past the TV playing Mickey Mouse, the mess on the floor, my husband sitting silently on the couch. I started driving and I wasn’t sure where. I just walked out the door and left. Because I have a husband and healthy kids, I’m supposed to ‘enjoy every second’ even when I’m slipping. So, I suck it up because there’s real people going through real things.”
