“I remember the silence, then sirens. People running from their houses, lights shining, and the rush of an emergency situation. People asked me, ‘Who are you? Where were you going? Have you been drinking?’ I had no idea what happened or how I got there.”
“We were told, ‘The swelling must be from the position she slept in. It’s nothing. It will go away soon.’ Weeks went by, but nothing changed. When puberty hit, my face was growing faster than I was. I had unexplainable headaches and nosebleeds. I was sleeping all day long. Everywhere I went, I got stares, whispers, and pointing fingers.”
“She was on oxygen, and had been since arrival. ‘By the way, I told you the wrong dad. The real dad is ____.’ I went into full panic mode.”
“Over and over I said, ‘Please have a heartbeat.’ Sometimes I close the nursery door so I don’t get too attached. Just in case.”
“I was recovering from birth while walking from the parking garage to my baby multiple times a day, changing my pad in a hospital bathroom, setting alarms to pump. I mustered up the strength to sit at a hospital, postpartum, while my 1-week-old baby had his chest cut open.”
“He would wash his hands up to his armpits, position himself on the couch with a blanket, and eagerly wait for his turn to hold and stare at his nephew. He would do anything for you.”
“I dropped out. ‘You won’t get very far,’ they told me. I believed it. I was determined to do was prove people wrong. You don’t need ANYBODY to make you a SOMEBODY.”
“She was moodier than usual, but she was turning 12. ‘Hormones, right?’ She started complaining about leg cramps and throwing up after running. When the coroner’s office called, we were told, ‘You missed the symptoms.’ Rachel was gone, and she was not coming back.”
“I was wary of you at first. I was sure we’d scare you off. And part of me wanted to—single parenthood had made my list of requirements pretty tough. But you won me over with ‘bring him too.’ You never ever had to be, and that’s what makes me extra thankful you’re ours.”
