“I literally sat in my car down the road, screaming and crying for at least half an hour. They found I had stage 4 Endometriosis. Well, no wonder I had been having such painful cycles! Babies came easy to us. But not this time. Not for my second marriage.”
“She was so upset I was at the hospital versus at college studying for my final exams for my senior year. She kept writing ‘I am okay’ on a notepad. She held on a few moments longer. My last visual memory is her sitting up, waving goodbye because she was doing ‘better.’ I can’t help but think that was her plan all along.”
“This is a true story and I’m here to say what others might not. I was there. I wanted to love and be loved unconditionally.”
“The tears fall. She gives me the wave off with her hand saying, ‘Nevermind.’ I’ve faced frustration, but never like this.”
“I don’t know what it’s like to watch behind me when I run, or worry someone may shoot me. I am a middle-aged white woman living in suburbia. I don’t know what it’s like to be you, but I do have a vulnerable child—not for the color of his skin, but for the invisible wiring inside his brain.”
“The mama we had matched with for adoption, though not due for 16 weeks, was in crisis. I cried uncontrollably. All I saw was the most beautiful, amazing baby boy, fighting to live.”
“As a full-time-working-stay-at-home-home-schooling-mom-wife-teacher-writer, we can get so incredibly busy and burdened. Sometimes we need people to listen to us vent or shed some light for us.”
“My father had passed away. ‘What do you mean?’ I was a little confused. ‘When he was in your tummy, grandpa played trains with me in my room. He said he was going to be my baby brother now so we could play trains together all of the time soon.’ I stood there, truly taken aback.”
“The artwork on the walls is full of shamrocks and gold, rainbows, and leprechauns. Spring was right within their grasp. They said, ‘I’ll see you in a little while.’ A little while has gone on longer than anyone imagined it would, but in that classroom, time stands still.”
“He’d tell me what girls he thought was hot, who he’d sleep with. He had no problem gawking at other girls in front of me. He said he felt unimportant and that I gave him no attention, even though my eyes were always on him and he had his attention elsewhere. I was convinced I was unloveable.”
