“I sat, alone, doing an ultrasound which looked like nothing. I’d lost all of my amniotic fluid, but my baby was still alive. The doctor told me she had a 1% chance of survival and to not keep any hope. ‘After delivery, what do you want to do with her? Here’s the arrangement options.’ In my mind, I was still holding onto that 1%. It took 2 hours to fully deliver her. It was quiet, sorrowful. I leaned up at one point and could see her legs, lifeless.”
“I wasn’t there to get back together with him. I refused, only to feel him latch on to me. I started screaming at the top of my lungs for help and out of fear for my life.”
“I can prepare and clean my house for 3 hours the 1st few times you come for a visit. But I can only pretend it is usually this clean for so long before you find out the truth. One day you will stop in because you forgot your sweater, and you will see the underwear one of my boys flung on the couch and the dinner dishes piled up from last night.”
“Our dreams of becoming parents were gone instantly.”
“I kept thinking to myself, ‘Is my child alive? Why can’t someone just tell me what’s going on?’”
“‘She wants to hang out with me like every day.’ That’s the last sentence I said before the phone call that changed my life, and broke my heart.”
“Yes, my love, many things change, but some things never do.”
“This was one of the most nerve wrecking moments in my life. He kept slowly telling me to ‘breathe.’ I knew this was actually a reminder for himself.”
“My children don’t even know we lost a third baby, our sixth pregnancy, last year in August. As I say these words to them, for the first time in over a year, I feel something new in my heart: peace.”
“His mom cried tears of joy.”
