“I knew I was dying. I was a shell of the woman who had had a baby 7 months prior. The tumor had grown to take over half of my breast and the pain was unbearable.”

- Love What Matters
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“I knew I was dying. I was a shell of the woman who had had a baby 7 months prior. The tumor had grown to take over half of my breast and the pain was unbearable.”
“I didn’t her every memory to be of me tipsy with a drink in my hand. Feeling grief without alcohol was the hardest thing I’ve had to do, but I had to walk through it and I’m proud of that.”
“This is nursing. This is why we are burned out. This is why nurses and CNA’s are leaving the profession.”
“I remembered all the times I heard, ‘When it’s all too much and you’re feeling like you could hurt yourself or your baby, put them in a safe place and walk away.’ I remember thinking it will never happen to me, then crying when I realized it was happening in that very moment. I had hit my breaking point.”
“This diagnosis would relentlessly fight against every treatment we tried. It all started with those six little words.”
“I felt like I had been hit with a bag of bricks. I was sad, angry, and felt very defeated. When you care for someone with Alzheimer’s, it’s a constant grieving process. You grieve at the diagnosis, you grieve at every ‘milestone.’ I was dealing with grief even though my dad is still alive.”
“Here we were in a tiny town, in the middle of nowhere with very little support, a child with a new and scary diagnosis, and a baby who never stopped screaming. Just to be funny, I took a pregnancy test. It was positive.”
“I met a man I truly, deeply loved. My life seemed perfect; all of my dreams were coming true. But in those moments, glimpses of darkness flashed before my eyes.”
“I’m carrying the weight of all things, feelin’ all the feels, crying all the cries, sighing all the sighs, and running the gamut of moods and emotions like I’m freakin’ Usain Bolt, praying my sanity is to be found at the finish line. And I should resolute. To improve upon my shoddiness. But instead, I’m not. I’m just not. Not this year. Not this girl.”
“It wasn’t my baby I got to bond with. It was my breast pump. It wasn’t little cries waking me at night. It was my alarm. I’d sit alone in a dark corner of a room, hook myself up to a machine, and watch as liquid was forced out of my breasts while liquid flowed freely out of my eyes.”
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