“I always knew there was something wrong. ‘I’m not sick, I don’t need to take medication.’ It would intensify. I had so many questions. Why wasn’t she like other moms? Why were there times she wasn’t there? Why did she sleep so much? Why did her emotions change so drastically? All the built-up emotions from my childhood hit me like a ton of bricks.”
“We may never grow to be empty-nesters. The words nonchalantly slipped from his lips, but they hit me like a ton of bricks. I’ve never heard him say that. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever said it out loud.”
“I didn’t realize until that moment that something was terribly wrong. My OB came into the delivery room and sat next to me. ‘I promise you; everything is going to be okay.’ The next morning, I looked over and saw him in the bassinet beside me. ‘Who is this baby? Where did he come from? What happened?’”
“We slow-danced in our kitchen days before his death. He made me laugh, he made me smile. He made me feel whole. I am a 26 year old widow. I had no idea he had been using drugs.”
“I realized at an early age that the only way I was going to escape was through education. I was accepted to every single college I had applied. She refused to provide them with her tax return so I could qualify for Financial Aid. I was crushed. But, I pushed forward.”
“I felt a big lump in my throat. It was like looking at an old bouquet of flowers. Except, the flowers were dead, and the heartache still had this slight flowery aroma. I am part of a club. The club that no one wants to be part of, no one wants to discuss. I was called dramatic. I was told to get over it. But how could I? Your love for a baby is NOT defined by gestation age.”
“On our honeymoon, we stopped for lunch. He sat down and looked me in the eye. ‘I have to go grab something,’ he said. There I was, 18 years old and 5 months pregnant, sitting in the Jack-in-the-box praying he would come back. I waited for hours, no sign of him. To this day, he’s kept where he went a secret.”
“Kids were BRUTAL. I was called horrible things like ‘ugly face’ and told, ‘You don’t look normal.’ I kept the bullying at school a secret from my mother. I couldn’t handle it anymore. There was no internet; I thought I was the only one like this.”
“The next thing I knew, I was laying on the floor with my mom and dad both overtop of me, staring at me with concerned expressions. When I faint, I lose consciousness, but the aftermath is always the worst part. I go into ‘autopilot mode’. I’ve ‘woken up,’ but I remember none of it. Everyone else would, though. They were always quick to tell their version of the story.”
“Pregnant at 18, my abortion was the next day. A switch flipped.”
