“One of the people who provided the opportunity for my life to be formed, didn’t want to parent me. Didn’t want to know me.”
- Love What Matters
- Family
“One of the people who provided the opportunity for my life to be formed, didn’t want to parent me. Didn’t want to know me.”
“They were always something I had tried to hide. I tried my best to explain them to her curious 5-year-old heart. Her big, wet hug let me know that although her age only equaled the number of fingers on her tiny hands, she understood.”
“I let her go. That all sounded like a pretty sh*tty existence, right? Then they proceeded to say she had a stroke. As I watched my daughter die, all I wanted was to trade places with her. I wanted to take the pain away. So, I let her go.”
“They refused to allow my husband back upstairs after he got off work, saying my unit didn’t count as a maternity unit. He flipped out. I cried and hid in the dark for two days. I let my husband go. What kind of mother was I to put her life at risk? I finally understood what it meant to give up anything to keep my family safe.”
“I parked my tired butt on the couch, overindulged in some sweets, and started to cry. I can barely wife and mom. Last night, it hit me like a ton of bricks. ALL OF THIS. I haven’t hugged my mom!”
“My ex said, ‘Ending a relationship is not a good enough reason to be diagnosed with PTSD.’ I had dark thoughts of not wanting to be here anymore. Nothing will ever compare to someone choosing not to love you anymore when you need their love and support the most.”
“If I wanted to impress a crowd, I could. I’ve got my ducky little life put together. At home, my children are laughing, my husband is eating a hot dinner, and the floor is tidy and clean. Right beneath the surface, hidden right before your eyes, is someone desperately trying to stay afloat.”
“She was fried. She hadn’t slept much. I felt invisible. She looked at me and said, ‘This isn’t you, or the parent you want to be, so you need to tell me what you need or snap out of it.’ We sat in that uncomfortable place for a good 45 minutes.”
“‘How will I cope?’ I looked in the mirror for 30 minutes, wondering what to do.”
“OMG YOU GUYS. I notice that EVERY. SINGLE. CAR. THERE is either some sort of hot rod muscle car. I spent the next ten minutes until the ‘parade’ started avoiding eye contact with anyone, plotting my escape.”