“As we pack up our belongings and head to the car, my husband can tell something is off. The moment we get into the car, I break down. We had been faced with the unimaginable. Two of our children passed away.”

- Love What Matters
- Children
“As we pack up our belongings and head to the car, my husband can tell something is off. The moment we get into the car, I break down. We had been faced with the unimaginable. Two of our children passed away.”
“I walked into the living room. Her proud, dancing eyes locked onto mine. She always cried. It became my mantra, whispered to myself on the darkest of days when I desperately needed a light at the end of the tunnel.”
“When my husband and I decided to have a second child, crap hit the fan. I felt like a failure, yet nothing was ‘officially’ wrong with me. I would overdo it just to show him I was a good mom. I would regret it later.”
“We were looking for a child with HIV. When we learned she was positive, we KNEW she was the one. She was 2 years old and only weighed 15 pounds. I started seeing a trauma counselor. James learned how to breathe in public again, knowing no one was coming after us. Then BAM – Morning sickness!”
“I started feeling ‘off’. I burst into tears. Everyone insisted I was just anxious. All I could do was pray my blood pressure went down, and my placenta hung in there. 30 seconds into my scheduled ultrasound, my doctor told me she was taking me to the operating room.”
“A friend of my mom said, ‘Look, your mom came to make December beautiful again.’ It’s so true. My daughter is the light of my life. It’s emotional raising a daughter without my own mother alive, but I understand now I would not have the beautiful life I have today if she hadn’t passed.”
“I wasn’t prepared for this. I was so caught off guard, I probably looked like a deer in headlights.”
“My students come into the classroom yelling, hitting, kicking, and screaming. Many people assume we do the work for our kids because they think they can’t do it themselves. Not everyone is cut out for this kind of classroom.”
“I screamed my husband’s name. ‘His stomach is warm!,’ I said out loud. I fell over my baby’s body. Air escaped his throat in a tiny wheeze that sounds like a coo. ‘He made a noise!’ Their faces fell. ‘It’s from the CPR.’ ‘It happens.’ They were trying not to fall apart.”
“A few more days went by and we figured we had finished that conversation until she asked the heaviest question of all, ‘Who is my birth mother?’ We looked at each other and quickly changed the subject.”