“Souls are not measured in size.”
“Souls are not measured in size.”
“She said, ‘I can order an ultrasound if you want—for peace of mind.’ I almost say no, feeling a little embarrassed. She clearly thinks it’s nothing. At the last second, I say, ‘Okay, sure. Why not?'”
“Someday, maybe 500 years from now, someone might open those graves, find those notes encapsulated, and read about a love that transcended death. That could not be killed by cancer. That could not be beaten down by time, and could not be stopped by any force.”
“I thought, ‘Man, I am huge. There has to be more than one baby in there.’ Oh, was I in for a surprise…”
“The joint pain became unbearable. I couldn’t open doorknobs, do my makeup, or write my name without pain. My legs were so swollen I couldn’t wear shoes.”
“I decided to return to work, no faith in my abilities.”
“I finally began to work on myself. And that’s hard. Looking in the mirror and being honest about the ways you can grow is daunting.”
“My mom endured higher and higher doses of medicine. I remember joking to the doctor, ‘If you gave her elephant tranquilizers she’d take them.’ She couldn’t stand.”
“My child will never experience the deep love and pride a maternal grandmother can give. They’ll never know the sound of her laugh, the warmth of her hugs.”
“I went to stand up, and blood poured down my legs and all over the floor. I remember almost fainting; my husband called 911 and an ambulance rushed me to the emergency room. To our surprise, we saw a baby bouncing around on the screen of the ultrasound. The doctors were baffled.”