“After I was released from the hospital, I questioned how I would tell anyone, who I would tell. I questioned whether or not they were going to love me for the person I was, or if the attempt was going to define me. I was terrified. The first person I told was my thesis adviser. When we met up, she hugged me and said, ‘I am so glad you’re here to give a hug to.’ I was in tears. She was my saving grace.”
“When I would say, ‘I love you, Campbell,’ she’d reply back, ‘I love you, Campbell.’ There was a disconnect even in our love. Fear gripped me tight. The day she was diagnosed with autism, she’s smiling. I have dark circles under my eyes from crying. Then I got another whammy. My son, a newborn at the time, is also on the spectrum. When he began wandering off on the playground too, I just knew.”
“My heart was telling me she was beyond tired. She can only handle so much. Selfishly I wanted to keep her, regardless if that meant sitting in a hospital or not. But the pain my baby endured was enough to rip my heart out. After a long, hard fight, she left us to go to heaven, a place we all want to be. She was only 10.5 months old. We will indeed see Berkeley again one day, and oh my goodness, what a perfect day that will be.”
“I’ve done A LOT of dumb stuff with money, but one of the dumbest was a Victoria’s Secret credit card I opened before our wedding in 2007. I had a freaking loan for my underwear. AN UNDERWEAR LOAN. I was convinced that on my wedding night I needed something awesome to wear. I went crazy. WHO DID I THINK I WAS?!”
“I had to move in with someone I barely knew. I was determined to keep this baby, whether my boyfriend stuck around or not. ‘You’re going to have to deliver the baby.’ I squatted on the bathroom floor. I was convinced I was going to die, that I couldn’t do this on my own.”
“After my husband’s death, I ventured to a kid’s birthday party with my son. I was nervous. As I started mingling with the moms, things got weird. I not-so-casually slid into the conversation that I’m a widow. I was still wearing my rings, so they assumed I was married. This poor woman looked dumbfounded. I kept thinking, ‘Should I have done this differently?’ I cannot pretend my husband didn’t die just to placate people around me.”
“I’ve had acne since I was 7. My skin would literally stretch to the point where it would break and stain my clothes, desk, and exams with blood and pus. People treat me like I’m unworthy as a human being. I know now it wasn’t ME that needed to change, it was my environment. My skin condition doesn’t have a cure, but I no longer think it needs one. My acne has made me resilient. And I’m proud of it.”
“He couldn’t understand why his wife, the woman he knew who had anxiety, the anxiety he understood to be excess worry, or panic, would actually be getting angry. But as I said it… the relief washed over me.”
“‘I’m going to play soccer and baseball in the fall,’ little Joe said, now in post-treatment. I still believed childhood cancer was rare. I even believed the kids who did get cancer would be fine, assuming they were treated at the best hospitals and didn’t have any unusual complications. I didn’t believe kids like mine could get cancer. It wasn’t until I was officially a ‘cancer mom,’ that I would understand.”
“I needed a cold drink. It was so hot outside, and I was so thirsty, and I just felt a stirring in my soul saying, ‘stop at Sonic, girl, and get you a Route 44. Think about that tiny crunchy ice. You deserve it.’ I am not one to ignore heart whispers, so I stopped, thinking I had enough change to buy it in my center console thingy. But I thought wrong.”
