“I didn’t leave my bedroom for 7 months or my house for 11 months. Once every two weeks I was carried from the bed to the bath to be washed and changed into Pjs, then back to bed. This was my routine for 7 months.”
- Love What Matters
- Health
“I didn’t leave my bedroom for 7 months or my house for 11 months. Once every two weeks I was carried from the bed to the bath to be washed and changed into Pjs, then back to bed. This was my routine for 7 months.”
“Snnniiipppp. My doctor used scissors to cut me open ‘down there’ to make it easier to push the baby out. ‘What did you do?!’ I asked the male, 50-year-old doctor, with fear in my voice. Even the nurses paused. Just 30 minutes before, my doctor told me, ‘I have somewhere to be at 7 o’ clock, so you better be able to push this baby out soon.’ My husband’s rage was rising. I squeezed his hand. ‘We can’t do this now.’”
“He told me to cut my two closest friends out of my life. It felt amazing to wear my beautiful engagement ring, but I was crumbling on the inside. The life I so desperately wanted to live was never going to exist. It took 4 years to realize it.”
“Did I mention how she was kind of mean even when we were friends and I was always a little unsure if I could trust her, and some part of me was always concerned that maybe I should have run away as fast as I could in the opposite direction before she stabbed me while I was looking away? When it’s time to, you let them go.”
“He texted me saying he was going to pop in to say, ‘Hi.’ I was laying on the floor watching TV when he entered. The next thing I knew, I was holding my head with my hands and screaming. I thought he had had a PTSD episode and shot me while thinking I was someone else. I crawled outside and knocked on the neighbor’s door. ‘Please call 911,’ I asked him.”
“On my flight, I sat next to a father and his autistic son. Before it even took off, there was screaming, hitting, grabbing. The father repeatedly apologized, but did little else. He warned it would be a difficult flight. ‘Not to worry.’ I had experience with minimally verbal kiddos. By the end of it, his son was changed.”
“From the moment we strode in, to the moment we left, we were in tears. I don’t mean little, drippy tears. I mean big, fat, mascara stained tears. Some whispered as they watched. The ‘Indian Prince’ Doctor nervously smiled. The entire chemo ward waited to see what would happen next. We weren’t crying in pain. Oh no. We were laughing so hard we were crying. I remember being here with my husband after he was diagnosed. I was nervous how I’d feel. But you know – go big or go home.”
“Every special occasion, my mom would make us our favorite pie. For my dad, it was lemon meringue. She always fretted until Daddy’s pie was made. She’d carry it, he’d make a big production, hug her and smack his lips. When I was 24, my mom passed away. As my Dad’s birthday approached, I began to fret. I went to the grocery store to find the ingredients, looking up and down every aisle. Later, I made a way to my Dad’s house to unveil the loveliest pie I’d ever made.”
“I was sitting quietly in my room reading. Two paramedics appeared at my door advising me, ‘We are here to transport you to the public psychiatric ward.’ Say what?!?! I found myself approaching 40, single, and childless. I couldn’t take it anymore. ‘I’ll become a mother on my own!’ My biological clock was DEAFENING.”
“I was scared when you left today. I was surrounded with hugs and everyone telling me how you finally made it home. I was happy for you, but I just miss you and I needed you here to tell me it’s all going to be okay. You are the only one who can help make it okay.”