“‘What’s wrong?’ My heart drops. ‘I can’t see anything anymore!’ I feel sick, but tell myself I have to stay focused and calm for my son because he is neither of those things. He’s now stomping around the house, pounding on the table. It all happened so fast. From fine to not in just a few minutes.”
“It’s hard on her. She is a Daddy’s girl through and through. And it’s hard on Daddy too. He came to me last night at 10:30 holding his phone, concern in his eyes. ‘They want to know if I’ll come in tomorrow. I don’t know what to say. Tell me what you think I should do,’ he pleaded. ‘Honey, I can’t make that decision for you,’ I replied.”
“I’ve put a grandfather on a ventilator who couldn’t breathe. I’ve held a newborn with fever while the doctor does a lumbar puncture. I’ve put the final drape over a mother-of-3’s face after she beat breast cancer, but died of the flu. I did all of this knowing full well it was preventable. We had the ability to save those people as a society, and we failed.”
“We vacuum when he’s not home, use the blender in the garage and I can’t blow dry my hair unless he’s asleep. Once he sees the appliance, it’s an instant tantrum. Truth be told, I’m scared. Scared he’ll be bullied for being different. I’m so, so, terrified of that. ‘Is he going to live a ‘normal’ life? Will he get married, have kids?’ I still feel broken at times.”
“He let the ball roll right between his legs with bases loaded in the last inning of the last game of the season. I wanted to scream at him. I was so angry. As he walked out of the dugout with shrugged shoulders, I felt a shameful sinking feeling.”
“She wasn’t my first daughter, or my second, or my third. My first picture of her showed a scared, sad, little toddler. And for several years after, she still had a look of sadness on her face. Because she was so young, her mother wrote letters to me about Princess, and I’d write letters back. But in October, she wrote my favorite letter. My biggest prayer for her had been answered.”
“Last night I got asked if I wanted a medal for looking after my own kids. I was told I should let my wife go out more than once in a year. I got labeled as someone they’re ‘glad they’re not with’ because they get to go out every week on their own for ‘me time.’”
“Me. Him. Same parents? That makes us…what? No. ABSOLUTELY NOT. Imagine having to break the news to your boyfriend that hey, I might be your sister. Actually, I am your sister. 100%. You know those awful bio parents of ours that totally kicked us to the curb? Yeah. They’re actually the same ones! We went from strangers, to lovers, to siblings, to strangers.”
“He was nowhere to be found. I grabbed the house phone and realized the telephone cable was pulled from the jack. I started to get worried. He finally called, he was on his way home. ‘My friend needed to borrow some money. I went to the bank to withdraw $200 for him.’ Something wasn’t right. I checked the last 5 numbers dialed. One of them I didn’t recognize, so I called it back. It was a woman.”
“The ultrasound tech went silent. ‘Will I be getting my pictures today?’ I asked. I was in such a good mood. ‘No. If there was anything there, I would’ve shown you. There’s nothing.’ She was so heartless, her tone dry. I felt dizzy. I held my husband close, tears rolling down my face. He convinced me to get my nails done to distract my mind.”
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