“I desperately breathe air into my child. Medics rush in. Suddenly, I hear voices, machines. I’m listening for that cry I know. Everything pauses. They wrap her in a soft white blanket, slowly walking towards me as if presenting a gift. I push back, pleading with tears. I beg the doctors to try just a little longer.”
“I loved you fiercely far before I knew you. She sat on that bed holding you, her tears falling onto your perfect self as she fed you one last time. The room’s air was thick as molasses. And then, she placed you in my arms, and I melted all over the floor.”
“Now you’re left exhausted, thinking what the hell did we just do? Am I an imposter because I failed? I flipped my mindset. It felt good to dive into something again, which started with ripping up all the carpet in the upstairs of our house. There was no sense in avoiding a room meant for a nursery when I could change it into a usable space.”
“I rushed to the hospital. The pain was so bad I literally thought, ‘There’s no possible way I am going to survive this. A human being can’t survive this much pain.’ I was prescribed a copious amount of medication. When would I stop needing it? Never. I thought I would never get a chance to be a mom, but I didn’t want to give up my dream.”
“The first time I saw her, I wondered if the nurse was handing me my baby, or someone else’s. I waited a few seconds for someone to tell me there was a mix up. ‘She’s so beautiful,’ the nurse said. My husband was also in denial, but reality was staring us in the face.”
“All my friends who had been doing nothing post-college, partying and vacationing, now all had good positions and were making good money. I thought, ‘Where am I? What am I doing? What am I going to do next?’ Slowly, I just became too comfortable avoiding people and doing absolutely nothing.”
“My dad proceeded to tell me the illness could be passed down to me as well. I wanted to get tested right away. My dad urged me to take it slow. When I got married the next year and found out we were expecting our first child, I knew in my heart I needed to know. On a crisp spring morning, I took the test. That’s when I realized it.”
“I tried to go on with life pretending nothing was wrong, while keeping this enormous secret, but ultimately couldn’t think about anything else. His birth was bittersweet. I held him, sobbing, as I signed away my rights as his mother.”
“As we pack up our belongings and head to the car, my husband can tell something is off. The moment we get into the car, I break down. We had been faced with the unimaginable. Two of our children passed away.”
“I walked into the living room. Her proud, dancing eyes locked onto mine. She always cried. It became my mantra, whispered to myself on the darkest of days when I desperately needed a light at the end of the tunnel.”
