“My boyfriend didn’t pick me up, so I started to walk home. A man in an SUV asked, ‘Do you need a ride?’ He got right back on the road and headed in the opposite direction. It was so strong and out of place. I contemplated jumping out, but he told me to shut the door. He kept driving. The lights became fewer and the houses became fewer. I kept crying…I couldn’t stop.”
“The technician asked me, ‘Do you feel that?’ I asked, ‘feel what?’ She said, ‘You’re having a contraction!’ I asked if I could see her face on the monitor. ‘I can’t show you because she’s in the birth canal!'”
“A lady answered and said she was barricaded in her room and police were everywhere. I grabbed my children and drove where I met a cop blocking off the roads. She couldn’t tell me anything. I drove to the nearest hospital. He wasn’t there.”
“Oh, are you wearing a dress? I didn’t even notice.”
“I remember seeing my dad sitting on the couch. I could tell he didn’t feel great. Later that afternoon I was with my mom and sister when we got a call from the local hospital. My dad had collapsed at work.”
“By the age of 15, I was living a reckless lifestyle. I had already failed at everything and let so many people down. The acceptance and sense of self-worth gangs offered was appealing. I was lost and out of control. Not once did I think about my family and what I was doing to them. When the parademics arrived, I was pronounced dead on arrival. ‘We need a body bag.’ I was drenched in blood, no longer breathing. I died for 6 minutes.”
“Dave always dressed in a sailor uniform. One rumor was he was a certified genius, who found the most happiness dancing on the side of the street. Whenever somebody honked or waved, Dave would dance a little dance, then smile and tip his hat. I can close my eyes and recall that happy little shuffle. He was captivating.”
“We have three new foster children and the trenches of trauma and grief are deep. My village stepped into the trenches and sat with me. They didn’t ask me what I needed, they just started providing.”
“I was on my knees praying to God to save my baby. No mother should ever have to see their babies open chest cavity. My daughter died in my arms as I sang, ‘You are my Sunshine.’ I had to find a way to survive.”
“I was left curled up on the couch in the fetal position. I remember grabbing my thighs and crying to my husband, ‘How am I so big already? How could I possibly get any bigger?’ My 3-year-old son asked, ‘Mama, what’s wrong with your belly?’”
