“My husband is literally a child when he wants to go out with his friends. Before he asks me if I’m okay with it, he’ll sit on the edge of the bed pretending to be interested in watching Gossip Girl. Many ask, ‘Why would he even have to ask you? He’s an adult.’ Or, ‘He shouldn’t have to ask you. That’s controlling.’ No, it’s not a control thing. It’s a respect thing.”
“He was 19-years-old with acute liver failure. As the hospital elevator doors opened, the words ‘Solid Organ Transplant Unit’ were burned into my brain. How can we be here now? He is so young with so much to life to live.”
“She was frustrated. With each concern I told her I could ‘fix it.’ I told her to calm down (not a wise move, I know) and with each ‘fix it,’ she grew more frustrated. ‘You’re not getting it!’ And hung up. He laughed. ‘She isn’t worried about you fixing anything,’ he said. ‘She wanted to vent.’ Naturally, I let out a condescending breath.”
“There it was. A question I couldn’t really answer without sharing autism. After just telling me all about the things her grandson is doing and will most likely achieve, she felt bad for me. I knew this would happen. It always does. People hear autism, nonverbal, lifelong care and feel bad. I get it. I’m not offended. But his world is not less. It’s just different.”
“The girl on the left lacks confidence. She’s hived up, feeling like she’s running out of time. Even her smile is nervous. She’s marrying the only man she’s ever known, but her gut is telling her something isn’t right.”
“I was having a quiet dinner with a friend. It felt like I had bitten my tongue, but I ignored it and continued our night. Little did I know, the pain I was feeling was my first clue to something much more sinister. I snuggled into my winter pajamas and closed my eyes. Less than an hour later, I awoke choking, short of breath, with a numb feeling on my tongue. I remember the fear and panic in her eyes as I choked on the antihistamine. I knew it wasn’t good.”
“‘Your sister-in-law has been arrested. Her kids will be placed in foster care.’ Our hearts sank! We went to court hopeful, but scared. We bought an inmate phone card just to make the 15-minute phone call to plead our case. I was so nervous I’d say the wrong thing. ‘No, I just don’t think my daughter staying with you would be best,’ the bio mom said. As simple as that. No reason or explanation. I looked at Drue with desperation hoping he’d press the issue. He just shook his head no.”
“I felt my body pushing. I tried to ignore it, but I couldn’t hold back any longer. He came out as we turned from the main road to the hospital. I looked at my husband and said, ‘Why isn’t he crying?!’ We were both in shock. The umbilical chord was wrapped around his neck. All I wanted was to hear that first deep breath and newborn baby cry.”
“I was at brunch slurping up a delectable chai with a girlfriend when I confessed all my help. ‘So, I have this gal who does our house’s big deep cleans and then another gal who does light tidying and takes care of all the laundry a few times a week and this other gal who babysits one day a week during the afterschool hours to give me a break from, well, the after school hours.’ P.S. I’m a stay-at-home mom.”
“We woke up to find him gone. We’d just gotten into an argument because he was caught sneaking out. We couldn’t call him because he had his phone taken away. Panic set in. Was he running away? Or just hiding out for a bit? We turned the corner to police cars, fire trucks, and road closures. ‘Are you Jennifer Chappell?,’ the police officer asked me. ‘Yes.’ I was too late.”
