“All day I kept having a weird feeling—like maybe I should call and ask him, ‘How are you?’ I just put it off as something else. The hospital assured us he was fine. I just shut down. I can’t explain it, but this switch in me just turned off. I don’t remember much after.”
“As I lay in the ICU, I could see my mom raging in disappointment and agony as she tried to explain the situation to her colleagues. Where was the little boy she used to sing with? The little boy who helped bake cookies for Santa and colored Easter eggs? My life had spiraled out of control.”
“She took him into her arms. ‘It’s not an ‘I’m sorry.’ It’s just different.’ I loved him, but I was scared. She helped us see he was the same beautiful baby we were elated with mere minutes before.”
“I fed my toddler crackers and watched TV because I couldn’t function. I could NOT parent. The ‘’mommy juice’ culture became a slippery slope.”
“I heard a loud bang. My legs dropped out from underneath me. My last memory was being placed in a helicopter.”
“At 20 years old, I planned my brother’s funeral. My last words to him were, ‘Don’t drink too much.’ I began to binge and purge. When I drank, I felt like I could conquer anything.”
“When I went to the bathroom, there wasn’t spotting. There was blood, a lot of it. The doctors confirmed our worst nightmare. In the blink of an eye, without any explanation, it was over.”
“The doctor started shaking me and asking me to breathe. I remember thinking, ‘This might be my last breath. I hope they at least retrieve a couple eggs.’ It felt like a scene from a movie.”
“Self-medication was the only thing keeping me alive. I sat outside, chain-smoking and chugging a bottle of wine. ’My boyfriend is an addict and I can’t get sober.’ I was never supposed to get pregnant.”
“‘She’ll be lucky to make it to 31.’ I curled up into a ball in her arms and sobbed. I was only 8.”
