“You put up your hand to stop them. They didn’t listen. They didn’t care about your consent. They lifted you up into the position the other women were so easily lifted into by their husbands. Except it took 4 men to lift you. Your face was red. Your husband looked sympathetic as you whispered to each other. Did you realize you were part of the entertainment that night? I didn’t see you again, but I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”
“A bag of popcorn started on fire, and multiple kids ran outside. It only took seconds for Preslee to slip past everyone into the canal. He ran along the canal for a mile. He saw the farmer pulling her out of the water. Our sweet girl had bumped into this farmer’s leg.”
“The mutual dreams. The age. The feeling. It all seemed to align by some inexplicable magic. He didn’t speak. He only sobbed, my tears flowing with him. I was never a believer in miracles. But this? This felt like a miracle of the utmost kind. The universe brought us together. It’ll take an army to tear us apart.”
“‘I’m taking our son,’ he said. It was snowing and he was wasted. ‘He will not take my child like this.’ My grandmother walked in from church. ‘Take my son and lock yourself in your room!,’ I screamed. He got in his car and sped off, fish-tailing down the snow-covered road. Hours later, he returned.”
“Three months after my love proposed to me, I found a lump. I was told I was ‘lucky’ because I had the ‘good kind’ of cancer. It was a hugely insensitive thing to say. My friends were buying homes, getting promotions, having children – and I’m the ‘lucky’ one?”
“He gave us forehead kisses. ‘Byeee Charlotte, daddy loves you,’ and backed out of the driveway. My phone rang. I remember answering to hear concern on the other end. ‘What’s Brandon doing?,’ they asked. ‘Oh, he’s out on a bike ride!’ There was a long pause.”
“‘If my arm didn’t stop me from being a great mom to my biological child, why would it stop me from being a great foster mom?’ I was advised to give up because of my disability. I was heartbroken and had no rights.”
“‘Of course, honey.’ I smiled to him, stuffing down my feelings of wanting to explode. He smiled and thanked the man, who shook his hand and smiled back. Then, as we asked our waiter to take our bill, he said it was taken care of. Paid for. In full.”
“What would happen to Easton? Who would raise him? Where would he go? How do you figure this out in just a few days’ time? Something told me to step up. ‘You’re supposed to be his mom. Tell your dad. Tell him now.’ I tried for an entire day to quiet this voice, but it kept pushing. It felt like the most insane thing to tell my dying father.”
“I don’t want you to say, ‘OMG, YOU LOOK GREAT!’ I don’t want you to say, ‘GOOD FOR YOU!’ I want you to know why I’m wearing a dress I have no business wearing.”
