“So tonight, while you were sleeping, I went to your room and counted your freckles. I gently tangled my fingers in your curls. I listened to you breathe. I sat beside your bed and tried to meet you in your dreams. We laughed and sang in silly voices until it was time for me to go to my own room. I whispered, ‘I love you,’ in your ear. I knew from the beginning you were going to grow. I had no idea how it would simultaneously rip me to pieces.”
“It was just me and Alice at the hospital. There was a soft glow from the bathroom, the door barely cracked. She laid on my chest, we were just there together, soaking each other in. Time stood still. She was so feminine, petite. I say, ‘I know whenever I sing, you are there,’ and I truly mean it. It’s as if I am sharing my beautiful, perfect daughter, and that brings me joy. I would find her singing to herself in her bed. I knew we would be connected through music forever.”
“Every diaper I got to change came with so much excitement. Every feeding was so special to me. But secretly, I was still scared. My heart was attached, but my mind knew to keep a distance, just in case. And then I felt it. ‘This baby isn’t going anywhere.’”
“My dad was the disciplinarian at home. DO NOT MAKE DAD ANGRY. I don’t remember hearing ‘I love you.’ From my dad. Ever. He was brought up in the traditional ‘macho’ way. He’d constantly tell me, ‘I had it MUCH worse than you growing up!’ But then something really weird began to happen at school – it made me feel warm and fuzzy. I was validated and encouraged by teachers. Wait, what? A hurricane of hormones was wreaking havoc on me. I was an angry teen who needed to fill the hole in my heart.”
“I hear a faint call, ‘Mom…Mom…. MOM!’. On the third ‘mom’ I was snapped back into reality. ‘MOOOOOM!’ A louder fourth one came out 2 inches from my face. I couldn’t stop crying. I couldn’t hide it. I sat on the floor in the middle of an aisle in Target and started bawling.”
“The day before my vacation to the Caribbean, I realized my period was late. I spoke to my mom on the drive home from work. I’ll never forget her words: ‘Honey, it will probably be negative, but you will be drinking on your trip. Just take the test for peace of mind. ‘ I took it that night. It was POSITIVE! I laid there in so much pain, sobbing, and praying for a miracle.”
“BAM. So, we get to church, and the sermon was, you guessed it, ON THIS VERY TOPIC. Well played, God. Clearly God is listening to us around the kitchen island, too.”
“My dad was a dangerous man. After I was born, he endeared himself to me. ‘I’ve seen 100 girls like you,’ he said. He found my diary. He read it. Humiliated me. They tracked my periods. They would time how long it took me to walk from the bus stop to the apartment. I hid who I really was. I got smarter. I knew how long it took to go from the bedroom window to the front door, which I’d deadbolt when he left. I hid notes in menstrual pad packaging. I tell myself, ‘You tried to break me. You told me to kill myself. But YOU WON’T WIN.’”
“When she finished my transaction at the bank, she said, ‘I want to thank you for your energy and smile today. I wasn’t feeling very happy, but you raised my spirits.’ The tears came back again. It wasn’t me at all, but my beautiful son who had caused it. That night, we ate a meal together and he left to go out with friends. My daughter and I walked him to the door. On June 22, I saw his smiling face for the last time.”
“John absolutely adored his sister. He was fine with people thinking that this beautiful blonde, this older woman, was his date – he would go out of his way to ham it up for whoever was commenting. ‘Come to me darling,’ I can hear him say. His eyes twinkling with glee. He would protect her. He just loved being with her.”
