“We vacuum when he’s not home, use the blender in the garage and I can’t blow dry my hair unless he’s asleep. Once he sees the appliance, it’s an instant tantrum. Truth be told, I’m scared. Scared he’ll be bullied for being different. I’m so, so, terrified of that. ‘Is he going to live a ‘normal’ life? Will he get married, have kids?’ I still feel broken at times.”
“He let the ball roll right between his legs with bases loaded in the last inning of the last game of the season. I wanted to scream at him. I was so angry. As he walked out of the dugout with shrugged shoulders, I felt a shameful sinking feeling.”
“She wasn’t my first daughter, or my second, or my third. My first picture of her showed a scared, sad, little toddler. And for several years after, she still had a look of sadness on her face. Because she was so young, her mother wrote letters to me about Princess, and I’d write letters back. But in October, she wrote my favorite letter. My biggest prayer for her had been answered.”
“Last night I got asked if I wanted a medal for looking after my own kids. I was told I should let my wife go out more than once in a year. I got labeled as someone they’re ‘glad they’re not with’ because they get to go out every week on their own for ‘me time.’”
“He was nowhere to be found. I grabbed the house phone and realized the telephone cable was pulled from the jack. I started to get worried. He finally called, he was on his way home. ‘My friend needed to borrow some money. I went to the bank to withdraw $200 for him.’ Something wasn’t right. I checked the last 5 numbers dialed. One of them I didn’t recognize, so I called it back. It was a woman.”
“Gavin came home from work complaining he wasn’t feeling well. I brushed it off thinking he had the flu. ‘I want to go lay down.’ He then called my name. ‘I think I need to go to the hospital and get checked out.’ I started down the hallway with him in front of me when he passed out. My mind raced the whole way to the hospital. I knew this was serious. After the doctor’s questioned him, he finally confessed. As soon as they walked out, I knew it wasn’t good. ‘We’re so sorry. His body was too weak.’”
“The ultrasound tech went silent. ‘Will I be getting my pictures today?’ I asked. I was in such a good mood. ‘No. If there was anything there, I would’ve shown you. There’s nothing.’ She was so heartless, her tone dry. I felt dizzy. I held my husband close, tears rolling down my face. He convinced me to get my nails done to distract my mind.”
“I cut my budget and lived off of less than a third of my monthly salary. (Turns out, packing lunches and not taking Ubers can save you a ton.) I worked multiple jobs at once, my day job and then side hustles. I walked dogs until my feet literally bled. In the cold. In the rain. In the heat. Nothing was beneath me. I babysat. I cat sat. I stayed up for 24 hours straight.”
“Senior year of high school. I felt sick. It spiraled completely out of control. I’m sniffing heroin and smoking crack cocaine like it’s going to get me into Harvard or something. I looked at my father and told him, ‘I need help.’ My dad wanted nothing to do with me, he was done. That really hurt.”
“This morning I was running around like a chicken without her head. ‘Peter is it really only 38 more months?’ A sadness came over me, but my mom brain was busy ticking off my daily to do list, thinking his bus really does pick him up ridiculously early for a school day that doesn’t start till 7:55.”
