“A walking contradiction, I never stopped giving it my all.”
- Love What Matters
- Family
“A walking contradiction, I never stopped giving it my all.”
“I know this body that brings me to school and back is mine, but I don’t feel any ownership over it. Cutting off my hair felt like cutting off a leash. I’m starting to see someone I’ve longed to meet face-to-face for a long time.”
“I was so angry. I was angry at the doctor who said, ‘You have a Duchenne boy but here’s a great camp we offer. It’s free!’ I was angry at the physical therapists who had worked with my son for years and hadn’t caught on. I was angry I had to wait over a month to be told my seemingly healthy son is terminal.”
“One day, I’ll tell you about how, despite our fears, we secured our masks, wore our face shields, and fought alongside our patients and coworkers in the ICU and on the floor. There were days the anxiety and stress of fighting a virus we knew little about took the front seat. But we stood together, stood strong, and gave our all.”
“One morning, we got a surprising phone call. Our IVF date had been moved up, cutting out time in half. Saying no wasn’t easy, but I knew it was the right choice.”
“I announced, ‘I’m about to vomit.’ Then I was no longer talking because I had blacked out. ‘Patient is crashing and baby is unstable.’ They flipped me onto all fours. I couldn’t feel my body from the waist down.”
“Right after brushing my teeth, I put on a bunch of toothpaste all over my face, chest, and back. I was a minty mess. I hid in high cut shirts and makeup. Anxiety became my best friend.”
“I’d have to wash my hands at least six times or I started believing somebody was going to die. I’d sit in my room and cry for hours. I felt watched and trapped in this space. At some point, I felt anxious even leaving my house.”
“I see a narrow spot on the road and suddenly I see myself losing control and our vehicle rolling over and over. I wonder if we would survive or if I would have to live with causing an accident that took my children’s lives. It keeps me up at night, makes me a wreck all day.”
“He said, ‘Ma’am, we have an unidentified man with head trauma coming in, I’m sure it is your husband.’ At that moment, I was escorted by a solemn social worker to a small, littered room. A room meant to allow family members to react to what they would tell me in private. I went downstairs to hold our daughter when she woke up. I told her in an age-appropriate manner what had happened to Daddy, and what our next step would be. She held me and calmly said, ‘I know Daddy will be okay.’ Your kids DESERVE the TRUTH.”