“Maybe my mom thought I wasn’t smart enough to hear what she was really saying: ‘My daughter is broken, how do I fix her?’ I was working out. I was doing everything right, wasn’t I? ‘Why am I still fat?,’ I asked myself. I was 10. Eating 500 calories a day, no cheating. But it was there, in that despair, that my life started to change. I came across a plus-size woman’s account and was… blown away.”
“‘He was going 90 mph. He hit the trailer, the shed, and drove through the entirety of the 40-foot building, and landed on your desk before fleeing.’ I shivered. If I wasn’t on vacation, I would have been right there, in that spot. ‘How can we survive this catastrophe?’ Soon, a couple stopped us. ‘We’re getting older. We’d like to give you something for free.’ I stopped. My breath hitched. I took a few moments to repeat the words in my head.”
“He kept telling me how beautiful I was and how any man would be lucky to have me. I began hearing the rumors from a few people about the girls he’d been with. ‘This isn’t true,’ I kept telling myself. I barely recognized him anymore. I told him, ‘It’s better if we just stay friends.’ He grabbed my head and slammed it into a car window. I prayed to God to keep me safe. I didn’t want to leave my daughter alone. Within 3 weeks, I found out I was pregnant.”
“I had 4 children, 3 triplets. Truthfully, none of them were planned. The chaos I created was unraveling at the seams. I was leaving a women’s prison to live in a homeless shelter because not a single person wanted me paroled to their home. If I felt I didn’t belong, I’d draw a line of cocaine. As the need for the next high got more severe, so did the consequences. I wanted the heroin to remove the dirty feeling on my skin.”
“Women have approached my son at the park with my husband and said, ‘Honey, where is your mommy? Do you know him? Do you need me to help you find your mommy?’ He’s assumed to be a criminal while I’m always viewed as the saint, a woman who adopted black children out of the goodness of her heart.”
“One night, my wife couldn’t lift her legs up the two steps on the front porch. She was carrying a bag with a t-shirt in it. The weight of it was enough to make her fall. I went out to find her hunched over, completely unable to move. She stayed there, crying and yelling, ‘Just leave me out here! Let me die!’ I knew something was wrong. In the freezing cold, I dragged her. ‘How do we tell the kids?’ The numbness was unbearable.”
“I gasped. I ran back to the garage, flung open the safe, and patted my hand. I felt the plastic sandwich bag. I pulled it out. And there it was. Two perfect pins. The real pins. Not only that, but his nameplate was in there, too. Tucked away. For the right time. Entrusting a stranger with something so personal, so sentimental, was like entrusting his body with the funeral home. I received the call, drove to the shop, my heart racing. ‘Stunning,’ I thought. When my 2 girls opened the jewelry box together, their collective gasps spoke volumes.”
“I collapsed over her body that no longer held the warmth and softness of a newborn. Nothing was going to bring her back. She was finally healed. Safe. Free of pain. I kissed her forehead. A final goodbye. My husband was escorted out of the room by the funeral director. I saw my daughter’s body leave forever, safe in her daddy’s arms. Stop. Stop. Stop the car. I can’t do this. I can’t go home. He rubbed my hand. ‘Let’s go to a hotel…’ We slept hard that night and awoke to a new day. A new, unwanted step we had to take without our baby girl.”
“Suddenly, that little person who used to crawl up next to you in bed and cuddle up to watch cartoons becomes this young adult who hugs you in the hallway as they come and go. The chaos and laughter turn to silence. And you’re left hoping you did enough right so that when they spread their wings, they’ll fly.”
“If I was going to do this, I’d become the best damn trach parent that ever lived. The reality is, while our NICU chapter is over, this is far from normal. I can’t take Lily to the store, or anywhere, alone. My husband and I haven’t been alone in 4 months. One of us needs to be awake around the clock to care for her. There is no longer privacy in our home as our ‘special guests’ come in and out all day and night.”
