“My entire future was dark. How was I going to keep living when my baby died? We were always waiting to find out if our baby would die and now we were waiting to find out if we’d have a baby that would live. That moment was when the world stood still. We were pregnant for the fourth time.”
“Sometimes motherhood can be a lot. Sometimes marriage can be a lot. Sometimes a career can be a lot. And sometimes? Sometimes it just feels like a lot all at once.”
“I will never forget our transfer day. She told me, ‘Today is so hard. This is the moment I have to accept the fact I will never carry my own baby.’ Those words hit me hard. 15 weeks in, I began having horrible headaches. I knew it wasn’t just pregnancy paranoia. I called the Intended Mom at 2 a.m. to get permission to remove her baby from my body. There was no heartbeat. Her journey ended with me. I knew I couldn’t give up.”
“Every time people saw me, there was another new bruise or broken bone. The night before Johnny gave me some meth and pills, CPS said they had to come and do an assessment. He immediately told the worker I had been ‘up doing drugs all night.’ That night was the beginning of the end.”
“When you see me in a handicapped parking spot, you might glare. You may even be like those who have said something rude or left a nasty note on my windshield. I sport titanium rods and screws that go from the base of my head to my mid-back. You wouldn’t know by looking at me I have a terminal illness.”
“I got excited at the idea of one more child. Then the doctor told me, ‘Time is of the essence for you. It seems the kidney isn’t here.’ Now you might be asking, what about the pee? We lost his heartbeat. They couldn’t get it back. My doctor looked me in the eye. ‘We need to get him out, NOW.'”
“The deadly bacterial infection spread to my heart. The machine next to my bed started beeping wildly. I remember the fluorescent lights burning my eyes. The beeps kept getting louder, louder. My mother flew over, piling blankets over me. Though my mother was not calm this time, I breathed her in. That’s all I remember. No pain.”
“The moment I’m at home alone with the thoughts of my divorce the urge to drink alone at home begin. There’s a reason I’m always out and about, why my social calendar is booked, and why I like getting away and going out of town on the weekends. It is because I have to.”
“I hope you never get that phone call at work. That desperate plea from your child to ‘come get me now.’ The call where your heart drops into your stomach and you have no idea what you are walking in to. I would much rather be at my desk.”
“I remember walking into the church on a warm June day and seeing my husband’s casket at the end of the aisle, draped with the American flag. Like so many of us before you, you gained membership into a club nobody wants to join, and on top of that, the whole world is watching. I promise you will come out of this on the other side one day.”
