While Grandpa meets his first grandchild and finally learns her gender, his daughter-in-law is about to reveal a much more shocking secret about the pregnancy.
- Love What Matters
- Family
While Grandpa meets his first grandchild and finally learns her gender, his daughter-in-law is about to reveal a much more shocking secret about the pregnancy.
“My parents did not overprotect me. They did not swoop in to solve all my problems for me. They did not try to shield me from real life. But they made life easier. They still do.”
“She was 7. As you can imagine, when I came home pregnant at 14, I was terrified. It was my choice to either silence her or lean in. I leaned.”
“It was his very ‘fourst’ day of hockey. ‘What’s wrong, buddy? You were so excited.’ As I held my little trembling man, feeling his warm tears falling from his eyes onto my own cheek, every fiber of me felt his fear. A tiny part of me wanted to let him stay home. My heart ached as I watched the car pull out of the driveway.”
“I will never forget that first day having to leave him. I came home and cried because I was afraid he wouldn’t be understood. But he came out full of smiles and handed me a picture. One I knew he couldn’t have done by himself. He’d done it with his special needs assistant. I will always remember she said to me, ‘Mom, we did it together. And he chose red. I think it may be his color.’ And she was right. It still is.”
“As it turns out, you can’t just walk into a fertility clinic and get knocked up with someone else’s baby on a whim. Next thing I knew, I was getting embryos transferred to my uterus from a couple I had only met on Skype. The intended mother stood at the foot of my hospital bed with one hand over her mouth. She held her breath as they lay his newborn body on my chest.”
“I still have dreams. They’re both still alive and I’m on the couch. My grandfather is smoking a cigar in the recliner and I can smell lunch cooking. She speaks to me so clearly and calls me ‘Al’ in her sweet, Southern voice as she asks if I’d like some sweet tea or a walk around the neighborhood. I miss the couch and the yard, the smells, and the sounds. What I wouldn’t give for one more meal, one more hug, one more anything.”
“She would break out the large stitching needles and sit on my tiny form, peeling my fingernails away from my flesh. It didn’t matter what it was, she insulted it. ‘You will die alone,’ she said when I mentioned being in love with a girl. ‘I should have aborted you,’ when I talked back. Once puberty hit, it was game over for me. I couldn’t win no matter how hard I tried.”
“I noticed this ugly wooden chair amongst some of the furniture for sale. I guess it just looked the way I felt, on the verge of snapping in some places. Much like grief, I was just going to have to live with this chair for a while. It’s become such a fitting analogy. At the end of the day, it was still just a broken place to sit.”
“He had blood-soaked gauze around his head. ‘Is that a bone sticking out of his arm?’ Sean had been in a motorcycle accident. I sat beside his bed listening to the ventilator push air through his body. I need you. Your boys need you. I know you’re in there, but you have to show these doctors that. I’m going to go home. When I get back in the morning, you need to wake up.'”