“I fled. We fled. I had to turn and walk away before verbally wounding the child that just wounded me. I packed up the kids and bonus child. I could feel my heart rate calming as we came to the top. The day ended so much more peaceful than it began.”
“To others, her kids are work. But they are so much for than that. What could’ve been said to to this mom that would’ve not left her with a half smile, but actual joy in her heart? I realized that only ONE word in the statement had to be changed.”
“I remember always being alone in my room, barbies in hand, my parents screaming profanities at each other. ‘Where is all the money? How could you have spent it all?!’ My dad had an expensive drug habit that kept him awake for work. As a child, I learned that money meant I was invisible.”
“Things started to take a darker turn. I wasn’t allowed to go outside alone. He spread lies to my friends and family. When I gave birth, he wouldn’t let me see my child. He called 911 saying I was a danger to the baby. He got full custody.”
“Rylee wanted to get closer to the other kids and went forward on the step more than she should have and slipped in. She was completely engulfed. I could see about half an inch of the top of her head. Without hesitation, I dove in after her. The current was taking her away rapidly. I could barely keep my head above water.”
“Every single day, I feel resentment, sadness, frustration. I reminisce about my lost freedom. The days I would wake up with energy, pull out my to-do list, and get everything done. The days when I could hop in the car and run a quick errand, take a nap, or shower whenever I wanted. The days I could set BIG goals and actually attain them.”
“There was no gender reveal party. No elaborate showers. I didn’t take as many photos. We didn’t spend every waking moment reading all the books. I wondered how on earth my heart could ever be big enough, how I could manage to divide my time and energy and love equally enough.”
“My heart stopped. It took the firefighters an unreasonably long to arrive (light years in mom panic mode). My son’s hairdresser came racing to the scene. And then there was a random mom who stopped and stayed with me. My husband made it in record time across town.”
“The village you need to raise a baby felt more like a ghost town. I had no clue what I was doing. There was endless crying, anxiety so severe I didn’t leave the house, stretch marks, flab, puffiness. I despised it all. All I could think was, ‘It has to be better than this.'”
“Jaymie was still and floppy. I grabbed her and started touching her face, opening her mouth, looking for any sign of what was wrong with my little girl! I remember opening my balcony doors, seeing the air ambulance, and screaming again. The police entered my home and I curled into a ball on the kitchen floor as they announced the time of death. What the hell was I hearing? I wrapped her in her Peppa Pig blanket and just stared, hoping and praying she’d just look up and smile at me. But no. She was gone.”
