“My birthmark grew bigger and bigger. I got used to others pointing me out, whispering, laughing. Throughout my teenage tears, I avoided public places, family events. Any situation that involved people. I always put on a brave face, but in the background my confidence was constantly taking a hit. I couldn’t bring myself to face the world.”
“My weight went up and down. I refused to go into dressing rooms, refused to get clothes. When I got pregnant, I couldn’t help but worry about how much more ‘fat’ I was going to get. If you’re going to call me overweight, at least do it to my face so I can tell you what the HECK my temple has been through this last decade.”
“I had a nightmare. I was being taken to a home I didn’t recognize and into a room I had never been in before. I was in a wheelchair. My mom is telling me it will be OK. She is holding my hand, and I am crying. I tell her I want to go home, but she is telling me I am home. My heart aches for dad on the other side of the door, knowing he will lie there, waiting, for the next visit.”
“The nurse handed me a box of tissues. I remember pleading with my baby to be okay, my hand on my womb, tears running down. Immediately upon standing, I felt crazy amounts of blood trickling down my leg. I kept thinking that had to be everything, but I felt more released. A little boy. All ten fingers. All ten toes.”
“I felt so complete once my baby was in my arms, but unexpected tragedy struck again. This time, to me. After birth I was experiencing extreme back and chest pain. I thought it was just from breastfeeding and kept dismissing it. My gallbladder went haywire postpartum. My mom had to raise our miracle baby while I was fighting for my life. I couldn’t believe this was happening.”
“Today, I lost it. Finito. Buh-bye. GONE. I could feel my nerves fraying at the seams and in true me fashion, I cried. This is what no one tells you about. The hard stuff. If a friend shares her truth and says she’s in a funk, don’t tell her your life is sunshine and rainbows. Tell her you’re in the freaking arena with her.”
“The mom was gathering an unholy ton of luggage, and had turned away for just a moment. She looked up with absolute horror. People were suddenly shoulder to shoulder, crammed like sardines. I bent down to a sweet, terrified girl. Quiet tears fell before the shaking of her small sobs could be heard. There was no police. No security guard. No one, but her.”
“When summer began, she bawled every day asking for them. I thought her heart might stop when she saw them; mine sure did. She ran through that shop and jumped into their arms.”
“Trying on my wedding dress, I sensed tension with my boyfriend’s daughter. My mind raced, and I pulled her aside. ‘I’m not trying to replace your mom.’ I never expected to start a family like this.”
“He bowed up and said, ‘That’s not true! It’s not true! Love doesn’t lie to us.’ So we talked.”
