“In 6 weeks that I’ve been home, I haven’t slept more than 4 hours at a time. My days revolve around changing diapers, nursing and pumping, and trying to figure out why my baby is crying. And while my motherly instincts are loud and clear, we are nowhere near a daily routine yet. I couldn’t imagine going back to work right now.”
“One of the nurses came in the room and said to me, ‘If you guys were my kids, I would tell you to go straight to the children’s hospital. Something is wrong with your baby.”
“The doctor spoke the words ‘unsurvivable injury’ over and over and over again. I was in denial and almost laughed at the report. ‘Do you want to donate the organs? You’re ruining the chances by keeping him alive.’ How could this doctor be so concerned with saving one life, but so inclined to let another go? After 10 minutes, a police officer walked over with a Ziploc baggie of Christiano’s belongings.”
“The day of the c-section I told my husband, ‘He will be with us, just keep an eye open for signs.’ After tear-filled moments in pre-op, we stopped in the hall. I laid there praying, staring up at the ceiling tiles. Just above me was a small sticker on an air conditioning vent. That’s when I saw it. In that moment, I smiled, so relieved. I knew he was here, watching over us.”
“I had what people wanted! I was what Hollywood told everyone they should strive to be but inside I was hurting. I didn’t want to be hated.”
“‘I’m dating to find a wife, so if you realize you can’t marry me, let me know. Also, whomever I marry has to be open to adoption.’ That’s how my husband opened our first date. What he didn’t know, was I was an adult adoptee.”
“‘Enjoy it,’ a man said, looking at my happy son. ‘I’m enjoying this more than you know.’ Just 6 months ago, I walked into that waiting room with my son closely held to my chest. His bright blue eyes peeked up at me – almost completely covered by a paper face mask. I’ll never forget placing Jameson on the table. ‘Does his belly look too big?’ I asked, concerned. Our perfect, happy, healthy baby boy had a belly full of tumors. Cancerous tumors.”
“Once the wine hit my throat, it never stopped. My desire to hold on to that feeling of lightness would lead me to pour another glass, then another. More nights than not, I emptied the bottle and stuffed it deep in the recycling so no one would see it. I got tired of pretending, of hiding, of going to bed stupid drunk. To quit drinking sounded scary. But even scarier? Losing everything if I didn’t.”
“I got home and checked an Instagram group chat I was involved in and saw everyone thought I was actually dead for 4 days. It made me sad because at the time I didn’t think anyone cared and I felt everyone would be better off without me.”
