“It wasn’t until I reached this box that I really lost it. I carried it to my car, and carefully placed it in the glove box.”
- Love What Matters
- Family
“It wasn’t until I reached this box that I really lost it. I carried it to my car, and carefully placed it in the glove box.”
“I hear Santa telling the gentleman, in a soft voice, of others he knew who served. He shakes his hand with genuine gratefulness, thanking him for his service, then returns to the children.”
“All we have been longing for, for two years, was for Austin to be able to eat again. It’s been rough on him – he couldn’t have liquid or food orally. He has recently started eating again, after two years completely tube fed, and he is able to try many foods now. This picture is the perfect celebration and way to remember that his biggest wish came true.”
“I don’t remember Pottery Barn centerpieces or monogrammed stockings. I don’t remember Pinterest-worthy trees or anything that would make one declare, ‘That is so precious. I must Instagram it immediately.’ That all might have been there. But if it was, I don’t remember.”
“I’m the one tidying up the toys while you are wrestled with. I make sure all your appointments are up to date, even when I forget my own. I’m the one up till 3 a.m. making the LEGO house you asked for. Hiding Christmas presents.”
“There it was. A bomb. He dropped it and then watched me completely break down. ‘I am certain this is skeletal dysplasia (dwarfism) and 99% certain the result will be fatal for the baby.’ We spun with the overload of information that had been given to us about our baby’s diagnosis.”
“No family history? Phew, he doesn’t have it. Ears set low? He must have it. ‘I can’t see his face!’ I hoped the sweet, blonde tech knew this was code for, ‘Does my baby have Down Syndrome?’ There was stumbling, stuttering. ‘How old are you?’ Wait WHAT? Sirens were spinning in my head. This is it, I thought. He has IT.”
“With tears running down my cheeks, I turned to my husband and told him the news. We were devastated. There were no red flags no warning signs. The next morning, we were called to the hospital. She was in labor – our baby girl was coming.”
“They were starting to get silly. Running and jumping over the dishwasher door and throwing toys. Instead of saying ‘go play outside,’ I said, ‘boys, can you show me your new train set?’ They both stopped dead in their tracks.”
“Her skin hardened within seconds. It began to split. My husband’s silence scared me.”