“My husband was an essential worker, working 6 days a week an hour away. I held down the fort at home, and did my best to nurture my pregnancy. So, here I was, alone with kids, pregnant, and in new house, in a new area where we didn’t know anyone. Mrs. Tina’s gestures of kindness saved me.”
“Life is short. Do what you can for people, now! Before it’s too late.”
“I felt resentment toward everyone who was finding joy in this time at home. Wiping butts and being screamed at to watch Blippi isn’t my idea of joyful and fulfilling days. I felt so alone.”
“I stumbled around the bathroom, my bra shoved down around my waist, covered in vomit. ‘Get in the bath.’ I sat as my husband sprayed me down, fully clothed, like a zookeeper washing a muddy elephant.”
“We were told they can’t accommodate us or our situations. I cried and cried a lot. We’re trying to make a living like everyone else.”
“‘This child is SICK.’ I remember the pain as I said goodbye to her and walked out of her room, tears streaming down my face. I’ve found until you know the deepest pain, you can never really know the deepest joy.”
“I’m not where I want to be, but I’m learning to be OK with that.”
“The fruits of our parenting labor are not in their grades or their accomplishments or their sports prowess or their clean rooms or their good looking wardrobes, but inside their hearts.”
“I was terrified I was dying. I started making a plan in case I didn’t wake up. I wrote letters to friends and family members for my husband to pass on when I died.”
“We come second right now. To them, and to each other. One day, we will again converse in full sentences, wake only to the sounds of each other, and have the other’s hand free to hold.”
