“I got a text from my husband. ‘Hey, I’m coming home. I need to tell you something. Cathy is going to meet me there.’ Cathy was a close friend and mentor to me. Why would she need to come also? I sat on my couch with my 4-month-old girl on my lap. My husband confessed he’d cheated with a woman he worked with. A woman who listened to me pour out my heart about my struggling relationship with my husband only one week before.”
“I’d never taken Madeline to a fashion show before because she was always sick. When her health increased, we walked in as I thought to myself, ‘What have I done?!’ I knew full well my daughter would want to be on that catwalk, too. Sure enough, after the show, she turned to me and said, ‘Mom. Me. Model.’ I’m the type of mom to do whatever I can to make things happen. Little did I know what this all would turn into.”
“I came home early on a Sunday morning. Still drunk from the night before. I had a plan. I executed my plan. I say this next part with absolutely no dramatization; if my wife had stayed in bed for another 10-15 seconds, I would absolutely be dead. I would’ve been dead that morning. I owe my life to her. And I wouldn’t be here to tell you that things get better.”
“Someone along the way decided to label us as ‘adults.’ Now we’re required to work and pay bills. We have to go to parent-teacher conferences and figure out Common Core. And some days, I just don’t want to. Some days, I just want to go back to when the nights were long, and the phone calls were longer. But, most importantly, I want to go back to when my husband was alive.”
“She supported him and she took care of him, regardless of the situation. To this day, they are closer. She always takes care of him.”
“I thought happiness could be measured by my achievements. I pushed to get good grades in school, to get a high-paying job. But after all of it, I still wasn’t happy.”
“The room is still, almost silent. I meet their beautiful baby, I hold their baby, talk to their baby. All while taking a mental assessment of how much posing I can do. I ask who he got his beautiful wavy hair from, or his button nose or long toes. I talk, but not too much to overwhelm anyone. I work gently, efficiently. I capture every single detail. No one wants this. Their child existed. Their child was so loved, and so wanted.”
“I approached the school in a new dress I was so happy about. I felt strong, confident, and absolutely terrified. I made my way to the library for a meeting. All the tables filled, yet no one joined me at mine. Teachers gathered to decide where to go for lunch. I asked if I could join. ‘We’d rather you didn’t.’ Broken, I returned to my classroom, closed the door, and cried.”
“I didn’t know what to say at first. She went there. Without fear. Without hesitation.”
“We ended up leaving 5 days before Christmas. The tree was decorated. Stockings hung. I tried to drag my babies out of their good time. I absolutely panicked. I wasn’t rational. But, panic, absolute real panic, is not rational. If I hadn’t left when I did, myself, my children, or all of us would’ve been dead.”
