“I tried to call my husband. No matter how many times, I got no answer. In my heart I knew his phone going straight to voicemail, which meant he was in transit from the United States to the Middle East. Jay was ready to go fight and defend our country, while his wife was giving birth on the other side of the world, to a child who was born too early.”
“I think to myself, ‘It sounds nice to pick up my guitar again. I can pull out some of my watercolors. I can call a friend.’ But a few days later, I still haven’t done any of those things. It feels overwhelming and pointless.”
“It wasn’t a generic, thanks-for-all-that-you-do kind of thing. This one stopped me in my tracks.”
“The size of her head was measuring 39 weeks while the rest of her body wasn’t. The doctor slid a paper with information on it. ‘We need to induce you.’ I didn’t sleep the night before. At 5 a.m. we made the 45-minute drive to the hospital to find out I was already in active labor, and I was positive for Strep. There wasn’t a dry eye in the delivery room.”
“One by one, I will lose all ability to speak and move. I will lose mobility at an age that is way too young. It will take away from the joy I share with Alex, which is already limited and unfair. In the worst part of my life when I was physically sick and could barely walk, I was given the greatest gift of my life.”
“We didn’t choose cancer. It chose us. Getting up was a choice.”
“He was dying. He knew he was. The cancer was slowly eating at every part of his body, yet when he arrived on scene that day, it was not the first thing on his mind. He put it all aside to comfort a woman he did not know.”
“‘Hello?’ I answered the phone, recognizing the phone number of my OB office. I can’t tell you how the rest of the conversation went because I was absolutely in shock. I heard the words ‘incompatible with life.’ I was encouraged to terminate the pregnancy and was told if born, she would look scary and would be a burden on our family.”
“You’re wandering around delirious, hoping someday you’ll sleep a full night again. You’re digging for pacifiers in the most unthinkable spaces. Sweet girl, the beginning is a doozy.”
“‘It could be something, it could be nothing.’ My blood pressure spiked dangerously high. The doctor said, ‘We need to admit you. Today.’ I was hooked to an IV in a massive, darkened birthing room in the middle of the night. When it came time for his arrival, there were 20 people in the room. All I remember saying was, ‘Oh, he’s so cute,’ and then he was gone.”
