“The last thing I remember was yelling for my mom. She raced up the stairs, only to be shocked. My tiny puppy had grabbed onto my sweater and was pulling with all of his might in the opposite direction to keep me from falling off the toilet and getting yet another concussion. If you talk to any dog mom they’ll tell you their dog is their world, but my dog GAVE me my world.”
“My heart immediately started beating out of my chest. ‘WHO? WHERE IS HE?!’ My head turned in every direction. ‘He left.’ Next came a flurry of questions. ‘Was it a tap? A pinch? A squeeze?’ She burst into tears. ‘A squeeze. It hurt A LOT, mama.’ My daughter doesn’t want to go to the playground anymore. She’s scared. I am LIVID.”
“My ex-boyfriend walked back into my life. He didn’t look the same though. His big, strong build had dwindled down to a scrawny man. I could tell something was wrong. I went for it anyway. That turned out to be a decision I will not soon forget. It didn’t take long for me to become pregnant, with not one but TWO babies.”
“Me with my first baby: I will never buy my kids tacky character tees. Evvvvvvver. Mark my words. Me after 3 kids: Whatever. I wear the same clothes I slept in to the grocery store, so who am I to be picking out people’s clothes anyway?”
“It intensified when I left my parents’ home and went to college. I drastically reduced my food intake. I hate thinking about the look of shock, disappointment, and concern on my mother’s face. She hadn’t seen me since Christmas, so when I came home for Spring Break, my mother was worried sick over my frail appearance. I felt guilty, but not guilty enough to change.”
“Within 24 hours I went from mothering toddlers, to a 7-year-old. I wasn’t sure what to do. We were walking on eggshells, wondering when the lid would blow. I was closing his bedroom door. He stopped me. ‘Mommy, you’re a really good Mom.’ I slid down the door in silent sobs. Those words, coming from that boy, meant more than any accolade I could ever receive.”
“She ran circles around the rest of us, volunteering, coordinating and simply ‘making things happen.’ I, like many, were surprised when her death announcement addressed her struggle with postpartum depression. Her social media portrayed happiness and perfection, never indicating she was suffering.”
“Don’t tell me we only have 18 summers. I’m a mom who can’t get enough of my kids, but quickly has ‘had enough.’ I’m a mom who wanted nothing more than to be a wife and a mother, and here I am, being those things. Well, guess what? It’s a lot harder than I ever imagined.”
“I realized trying to conceal the severity of my symptoms for the sake of ‘keeping my chin up’ was incredibly dangerous. I needed help. My precious baby needed help. My body is forced to keep my baby alive by slowly killing me in the process.”
“I had 3 months to figure out my escape. I stopped fighting back with my daughter’s father and kept calm. He was losing control, and it drove him crazy. ‘You’re not gonna take her from me,’ he’d say. I’d wake up to him pacing the kitchen talking to himself. I stayed quiet and texted a friend who said, ‘Wait 10 minutes, and then you call the cops. He could be lying.’”
