“We were walking out of the house when a feather floated right in front of us. As we sat enjoying our morning coffee, another tiny feather made an appearance. On the drive home, I kept thinking … two feathers … what does that mean? But I had a hunch. I went straight to the bathroom and found a pregnancy test.”
“I was carrying our abuser’s baby after I had accused her of lying about him. ‘I’m so sorry for not believing you.’ I was nothing to her, and she took me in. When she walked into that elevator, I grabbed her and hugged her tight. She held me back and just cried uncontrollably.”
“I remember every single detail about this day. I knew what I was coming into, but in no way was I prepared for it. Your nurses before me had gotten you so handsome, dressed for your family. You looked so small in that big bed.”
“I know this isn’t something on the forefront of your mind, and that’s okay. We don’t need every special moment documented…but, let’s be honest. We spend a lot of time doing just that for everyone else. Please.”
“I got a call from my best friend’s husband. It was clear he didn’t really know how to say it. ‘If it were me I would want to know.’ My hands and feet got hot and sweaty. It was so many people… so many of my friends were involved. I couldn’t trust anyone. All I could do that week was sob, hysterically sob and compulsively take showers.”
“The doctor inserted her torture device. I remember cursing loudly and then profusely apologizing, as the pain was excruciating. I covered my face and wanted to scream. During this time I felt Nick’s hand fall away. He was on the brink of passing out.”
“Here I was, at age 32, realizing this for the first time with a husband and 3 children by my side. I felt utterly alone.”
“Is my baby boy okay? All I wanted was my husband. Waiting for him to arrive at the hospital felt like a lifetime. When he arrived I collapsed into his arms sobbing. He asked what was wrong, but I could barely get the words out.”
“My questions didn’t stop there. ‘Is the baby okay?’ He was covered in white slime. ‘Should he be that color?’ I felt so completely unprepared. These women never looked at me and said, ‘That isn’t my job.’ That is a hero.”
“I didn’t experience the ‘bond’ I often heard of when it came to breastfeeding. But perhaps the ‘bond’ is formed by simply FEEDING your baby? Each time I held one of my babies, I cradled them in my arms as they received their bottle. I knew this was OUR kind of bond.”
