“To say I am jealous is an understatement. I’m not ashamed to admit it. I am extremely jealous. It’s just not fair. The going to see Santa Claus, throwing birthday parties – it all stings. Hearing what cool new toy they added to their Christmas list to Santa. My children have never cared about any of that.”
“My mom covered her mouth and ran out of the room with tears in her eyes as my brother sat next to me. I was dying. I took 30 more pills slowly, not realizing what was happening. I should have died, and I almost did.”
“He was sobbing. ‘Abigail…’ My heart dropped. ‘Dad, what the heck is going on?’ He responded, ‘I think your sister was arrested. She called and said the cops were after her. Then the call dropped. I haven’t heard from her since.’ She was last seen at the Denver International Airport. My dad escorted her to security where she was catching a plane to rehab. The reality of what happened hurts too much to face. I find myself getting so angry at her. She was so close. She was on the plane.”
“To the person from my hometown who started a rumor that I was on fertility drugs. To my youngest child’s doctor who asked the question I had been asked a million times. ‘First child?’ ‘Nope! 3rd child, first pregnancy!’ then had the gall to say, ‘but having your own is different, isn’t it?’”
“Every time he touched me, I cringed. I was so busy and obsessed with being a first-time mom, my son came first in every situation. We stopped going on dates, sex was non-existent. He sat me down and told me his needs. I brushed it off. After all, I’d just birthed a newborn! The last thing I wanted to do was have sex. Time went on and his needs went unfulfilled. Eventually, we became strangers who lived together.”
“A photo of my son with a shirt saying, ‘I Love My Gay Dads’ got me 500 messages from people telling me, ‘You’re disgusting.’ On time at an event, a mother yelled at me. ‘Don’t do this in front of your son…or whatever he is…can you even have kids?!’ Here I was, a stay-at-home Papa, completely devoted to raising my child, having to prove I had a right to do so. No matter what, I will always be there for him. We honor our son.”
“The meds had stopped working – time was running out. The call came at just the right time. I remember doubling over, nauseous with the news I’d just received: ‘They have a match for lungs.’ I needed to be transported to Boston IMMEDIATELY. I crouched down by my hospital bed, struck with the magnitude of the situation. As prepared as I was, nothing could get me ready for this moment. I couldn’t catch my breath.”
“I have witnessed this tragedy unfolding right in front of my eyes. Our children are in a devastating emotional state! No, ‘they all are just born like this’ is not the answer. No, ‘it is all the school system’s fault’ is not the answer. As painful as it can be to admit, in many cases, WE, parents, are the answer to many of our kids’ struggles! We must make changes before this entire generation of children will be medicated.”
“I finally gave in and made the call. I cut the doctor off. ‘My water just broke.’ Right there in the middle of my kitchen. His tone quickly changed. ‘Get to the hospital ASAP.’ We were snowed in, at the worst possible time. The woman at the desk asked me, ‘Are you pregnant?’ I wasn’t sure how to reply. Do I explain, ‘Yes, I am in labor with my dying son,’ or just let it alone? They wheeled me into the operating room. ‘Oh you just had a baby! Congratulations!’ Those words stung very deep.”
“I started gushing so heavily, my entire bathroom was covered in blood. It looked like a murder scene. Was I having a miscarriage? ‘I’m sorry, but it’s Stage 4.’ I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I instantly broke into uncontrollable sobs.”
