“When the news of divorce was trickling through the household, I came back from a long bike ride to find Mom talking with Dad, her eyes swollen and red from crying hard. She saw me, brightened, and cheerfully asked me all about my adventure that day — hiding her heartache for my sake.”
“We’ve gone ahead and taken the guesswork out gift buying this year. Here are some of our favorites for every man, woman, and child in your lives that deserve a little love this Valentine’s Day.”
“Our brief phone call couldn’t have been longer than 5 minutes, yet it changed everything we knew or expected for our future. I had been hoping that they were wrong. Terrified of the unknown, I put off buying anything for our baby. I smiled throughout my baby shower I didn’t even want to attend.”
“This work leaks into every part of my life. There’s not a minute that’s safe. It calls in the middle of the night, during hair appointments, and workouts. Vacation doesn’t exist. I miss getting ready. I miss the compliments on my outfit and hair. The hot coffee, and people who got my jokes. When my brain operated well enough to form them. But I know the one thing I’d always miss more than work, are my children.”
“‘Well you decided to have children. Don’t do what you can’t handle.’ I was terrified to break down in front of my friends. Anytime I made any remark about being tired or frustrated, I’d get the response, ‘It goes by so fast. Appreciate the moments because you’ll miss them.’ Did people think I didn’t appreciate my children?”
“I knew nothing about heroin. But I did it. That missing feeling I had inside of me for so long was gone. It felt warm and like I was being hugged. It felt like I had arrived. In my mind, I was a heroin addict, not an alcoholic. I got drunk and got high that night. I would share needles with whoever. I found out I had contracted Hepatitis C. One of my best friends, who I used with, had been sober for 18 months. If she could do it, so could I.”
“‘Because of the chemo, he’ll likely be sterile.’ I felt my heart break as they escorted us out a side door, so I didn’t have to pass the expecting mothers in the waiting room. I tried coming to grips with the fact I may have lost the baby, but there was 1% of me that told me there was a CHANCE.”
“I was born with a big Port Wine Stain, covering half of my face. They would only laser a small part of my birthmark at a time because it was so painful. My mom recalls ‘the smell of burned skin getting in her nose.’ As I got older, I felt people staring more. Adults would stop in the middle of the sidewalk. ‘Wow.’ Kids would point. ‘Look at that.’ Imagine a little girl asking a grown woman, ‘Can I help you?’ That was me growing up.”
“I will always remember these mornings, starting with the doorway being bombarded by a handful of babies ready to snuggle up in our bed. When the smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the house amidst the chaos of sticky, syrupy pancake hugs, and toy-take-away battles. Trying to zip jackets, change diapers, and chase down the toddler who took his pants off again.”
“He knows leaks happen and periods can be uncomfortable. He offers to bring me chocolate and Tylenol when I have tummy cramps. He’s completely unashamed. Completely understanding.”
