“My doctor saw blood and wouldn’t even attempt to check if my baby was alive. ‘WHAT?! You’re not doing an ultrasound? Blood work? Doppler?’ He shook his head no. ‘There is no use. You’re losing your baby.’ He dismissed us without emotion and left. The next day, we went to the OB to confirm the miscarriage. WHOMP WHOMP WHOMP. The nurse burst in, full-on sobbing. We were urged to terminate the pregnancy.”
“I pulled up his profile, scrolled through his pictures, and hit the add button. I waited for at least 3 days. No message, no anything. I went back to assuming he just added ’random blondes.’ I finally decided I would make the first move. I didn’t want my daughter to wind up even more heartbroken.”
“I hear the sound of a huge dog clambering down the wood floor hallway. If toddler silence is a dangerous sound, this is the doggy equivalent. I chased her around the house trying to dislodge a slice of Meat Lovers. Then I saw the flames. The kids come running in. ‘FIRE! FIRE! WHAT’S OUR ESCAPE PLAN?’ We don’t have one, but bet we do by this afternoon.”
“Complete strangers would peer into her stroller and make comments about her everywhere we went. ‘Looks like she stuck her finger in the power socket,’ was a frequent comment.”
“The one thing I was ‘known for’ was being taken from me. I vividly remember I’d have to hide in the bathroom before school started, practically unable to function, dragging myself to my classroom at the last minute. I felt entirely numb. I felt absolutely nothing. How could I not be graduating? It was my senior year!”
“Middle school kids. Your daily parenting may include statements like, ‘If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all!’ ‘How many times do I have to tell you not the use that word?’ ‘What were you thinking?!’ Then, it happens. We cave. We give them our old phone. Something we haven’t thought about. We aren’t prepared for it.”
“I started seeing a shift. He was moody, had bouts of rage. He was volatile. Every moment felt like walking on eggshells. I felt constantly on edge, waiting on the next blow up. He was always tired. I mentioned all this to the pediatrician. Nothing fit. I was losing my sweetheart of a boy. Finally, I said, ‘What about Celiac?’”
“My first thought was, ‘They have the wrong boy.’ My son loves school! Frustrated, I yelled, grounded him. Then, the next morning, I heard it. Sobs coming from the shower. ‘Mom, I’m not feeling okay.’ He told me he felt extremely depressed. That it was so bad he contemplated killing himself and had skipped class to find a quiet space to cry alone and breathe. Instantly, I felt a pang in my heart.”
“No one mentions that you disappear into your own walls. A part of the furniture. Like an old armchair that’s jumped on all day and the last thing you want to do is talk to someone or be touched. We have to be grateful, so we shut our mouths. I’m in silence listening to others say, ‘I never felt like that, I loved it.’ Sinking deeper into our guilt.”
“This type of behavior should not be accepted.”
