“In a panic now, I pray. I put my hands up to my bloody mouth and pray long and hard and more fervently than I have ever prayed before. I can’t go back. I won’t. ‘Please help me.’ I will not look behind me anymore. There is no going back. I must break free from the cage I have held my self in for so long.”
“The things I loved most about my sons turned out to be red flags. When others parents learned they were autistic, they said, ‘I’m so sorry’ as if they are sick. ‘Did the vaccines cause it?’ They tell me I should opt out of them, as if autism is a greater risk than a preventable illness that could kill. I will no longer feel sad for my boys.”
“Here’s to the girl dads who babysit dolls and pause wrestling matches to conduct tea parties. To the dads who help take off training wheels, tighten seatbelt straps, and fasten car seats. To the guys guy covered in tattoos who has spent so many years learning to hold on, and will spend the rest of your lives learning to let go. You are building hearts with your construction hands.”
“That morning, I picked up my mom for a routine dental cleaning. As usual, she was happy to see me. Nothing stood out as odd. She joked with the receptionist about me and walked out the door with a smile. As soon as the sunlight hit her face, she turned to me. ‘You never told me.’ ‘Told you what?’ I asked. ‘Who you were.’ All in a couple of seconds, I realized this was very real. She was terrified and begged, ‘Take me home.’ I soon realized ‘home’ was her childhood house. My mind was racing.”
“I woke up feeling uneasy. As I drove in, I just knew something was off. The ultrasound tech was silent and white as a ghost. ‘Is everything okay?’ She replied, ‘You need to wait for the doctor,’ and walked out of the room. At just 25 weeks, the twins were both dying and on their way. The OB-GYN whisked me to the ER. ‘Jeremiah is not big enough to survive. You have to leave him in!’ The entire day, I had been bleeding out internally and no one knew.”
“I was written off as hormonal. My husband frantically demanded I be intubated. He kept screaming, ‘The oxygen levels don’t matter. She’s in a Myasthenic Crisis!’ I tried to take a breath. It was too late. All my muscles started twitching. I was flopping around on the hospital gurney uncontrollably. Suffocating. I was dying and no one was listening to my husband’s desperate pleas. I heard Code Blue called over the intercom and faded away. I didn’t wake for 2 weeks.”
“I was one of the Firefighters who received the call you were in trouble. We immediately dropped everything and jumped on the Engine. We found you unconscious. The house was close to 100% engulfed in fire. Your parents screamed your name, held each other. I held back tears. Time was against us, but we held onto that glimpse of hope. You never even saw my face, but I still remember yours.”
“He has been up till 2:00 a.m. every night the past four nights. I can see the exhaustion in his eyes, but his brain is on rapid-fire mode. I feel like a horrible mom sitting on the floor in the hall outside his room, which is locked, listening to him.”
He starts to tell you, ‘My liver is hurting; I really need to stop.’ ‘I threw up a little blood. Don’t worry, I’m going to get sober.’ You start making deals with God, who you haven’t talked to in years. ‘Don’t leave him,’ you tell yourself. ‘It’s only temporary.’ Then…he never makes it. He relapses because he hates himself sober too.”
“My daughter cried for a birthday party. To be honest, I didn’t want to throw one at all. There were so many expectations as a mom to have everything perfect. I gave in. ‘My son Nehemiah would be 8-years-old today. Hold your baby a little tighter today.’ It was my daughter’s 8th birthday. I broke down in tears.”
