“We were hit with the bomb. ‘She definitely needs surgery,’ the doctors said. I was sick to my stomach. My baby girl has never even been to the ER. She’s always been a very active girl that cheered, danced, competed. How was this going to affect her? ‘This will be the roughest 8 hours of your life while she is in the OR.’ He would end up being right. I was numb the whole time.”
“We do not mean to devalue our kids. But we do it. Every single day. There are too many kids, too many broken families. But the thing is: it matters how you move them. It matters if it happens on their birthday, or if you forget a favorite stuffed animal in the shuffle. That nobody in their new home knows how they like their eggs, and there are no pictures on the walls but biological family. These things send a clear message: You’re invisible. You don’t matter. You’re a throwaway kid, now.”
“Seven years after Chad had his accident, I walked up to his house. I had never done work like this before. I was young, nervous, and had no idea what to expect. All I knew was he needed help and I needed work.”
“My daughter dropped her pacifier on the floor under the bed. I bend down to grab it, and what do ya know? There’s a pair of dirty underwear under the bed.”
“He left his social media open. I found chats with several girls. I made screenshots of all the conversations and printed them out. He said he was ‘only with me for citizenship’ and that a year from then, he would shoot me. I was terrified. I discovered he had a wife with 2 children. His oldest daughter was named the same as mine. His plan was to get me pregnant, marry me, and then bring his wife and children here, kicking us out of the house. I’d trusted him, but I am not weak anymore.”
“The holiday season is freshly fading, and that means pregnancy announcements have rolled out on social media. Here is to ‘that’ momma. The one who is still waiting, looking at one evil line on a pee stick. The one grieving a life she was so in love with. The one who has children of her own, but so desperately wants to give her husband a child with his DNA. The one who is tired of trying, and sad she is starting to give up.”
“The lady at the thrift store bravely asked about how we were doing. And you know what? I didn’t lie. I didn’t say good. I thought, ‘Wow, it has been over 2 years. How can that be?’ I found your box of baby clothes and the blankets Grandma made you. You are everywhere here, and at times I don’t want to live in this place anymore.”
“Work will always be there, but my babies won’t always be this small.”
“The first words out of my mouth as my body flooded with oxytocin were, ‘You are so cute.’ You were perfect, big lips, small button nose, the cutest most perfect feet I have ever seen. I said out loud to your dad multiple times that you just were so quiet in there, and I hoped you were okay. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you. Looking at you, finally, was the most magical moment.”
“We were on cloud nine: our baby was here, he seemed to be in perfect health. I remember hugging him, saying, ‘Welcome to our family! I’m so happy to finally meet you!’ I commented on his nose and ears, but again, no red flags. Babies fresh from the womb all look like aliens anyway. His face suddenly looked completely different. I remember thinking, ‘This is not your fault.’ From the first moment I met him, he’s been whispering to me, ‘It’s okay, Mom. There’s nothing to be afraid of.'”
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