“We woke to what we thought was Matty snoring. Something didn’t sound right. The next few hours would consist of teams of doctors coming in and out of our room with solemn faces and stumped expressions. I ugly sobbed.”
- Love What Matters
- Health
“We woke to what we thought was Matty snoring. Something didn’t sound right. The next few hours would consist of teams of doctors coming in and out of our room with solemn faces and stumped expressions. I ugly sobbed.”
“I was ‘cured,’ right? Uh, WRONG. Without batting an eye, they start laying on the pressure. ‘Don’t you want him to be a big brother?’ I wanted answers.”
“I know you’re tired. I know you’re at your wit’s end. But mama, tonight, take a moment to look down at those babies you made. How beautiful and perfect they are. And tell them that you love them with your whole heart, and you’ll never stop. Not for an instant. No matter what.”
“I accidentally found out about his secret relationship when inquiring about our wills. Dating someone behind my back is singlehandedly the best gift he’s ever given me. I’m not the person I was 6 months ago.”
“There was a speeding car behind me. I don’t have any memory of it. People from around the world started messaging my parents, letting them know they were praying for me. Tears streamed from my eyes.”
“There is nothing wrong with you, my love. But there is everything you have yet to still give to the world. I promise, one day, you will find your people.”
“15 weeks pregnant, my OB left a voicemail. Something was different in her voice. ‘It’s questionable you’ll make it through surgery alive.’ I was carrying an undetected twin. I had two options: die or let one of my twins die.”
“I told my husband, ‘I can’t do it anymore. I have to call.’ The tumors were everywhere. He looked me straight in the face and said, ‘I will never forgive you.’ I was on the verge of a breakdown. We do not think of dispatchers as heroes, but that night, Jeff was mine.”
“My nails weren’t painted and I curled my hair myself in between wiping away the endless stream of tears. It wasn’t staged or super fancy. It was a dad doing what he always did best: sweeping his girl off her feet one last time.”
“She asked me to lay back. ‘Hold on,’ I said, ‘Let me grab my phone so I can record this for my husband.’ I settled in, hit the record button. I knew pretty quickly that something was off. I could feel the tennis ball size lump rising in my throat.”