“He was on his knees at his wife’s bedside. Like a ton of bricks, it all caught up with him. He deflected his own grief to make sure everybody else was okay. But we all knew that deep down, this was tearing him up.”

“He was on his knees at his wife’s bedside. Like a ton of bricks, it all caught up with him. He deflected his own grief to make sure everybody else was okay. But we all knew that deep down, this was tearing him up.”
“I had to hide my youthful giddiness and play it cool. The older, wiser mom will tell you the toddler years are the best of all. That in the blink of an eye, our kids will be mini-adults and the days of cuddles and air-blown kisses will be gone. NO ONE tells you the cool things that happen.”
“I graduated from high school eons ago, and survived the sorority cliques of my college years, so I assumed that meant I was in the clear from cattiness. But a few months into new motherhood, I learned the hard reality that mean girls still exist—they just become mommies too.”
“Ben told me his wife went behind his back and called health professionals. She told his doctor, she let his boss know, she spoke to his family and friends. At first, he was angry with her, but with tears in his eyes he looked at me and said, ‘She went behind my back, but she saved my life.’ And she did.”
“My husband returned from a big deer hunting trip. We engaged in playful banter about where this big ol’ buck would hang. He proudly pointed to the living room wall. I kindly suggested how great it’d look in the garage. Did he really want a deer head in the living room?!?! When the taxidermist called to say it was ready, I had to stop and ask if we were still joking.”
“You wait as I get your siblings ready for the day. You wait as I break up their fights. You wait as I load them into the car, in tears of frustration because you need me, but I need to get them somewhere by a certain time. I don’t get enough chances to take all of you in, to enjoy your coos and smiles. You don’t have all of me.”
“I quietly packed my bag in the morning as he was sleeping. I ran out of that house like I’d never see freedom again and jumped in my car. I remember shaking the whole way to work, terrified he was following me. I never looked back.”
“I always knew there was something wrong. ‘I’m not sick, I don’t need to take medication.’ It would intensify. I had so many questions. Why wasn’t she like other moms? Why were there times she wasn’t there? Why did she sleep so much? Why did her emotions change so drastically? All the built-up emotions from my childhood hit me like a ton of bricks.”
“We may never grow to be empty-nesters. The words nonchalantly slipped from his lips, but they hit me like a ton of bricks. I’ve never heard him say that. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever said it out loud.”
“I didn’t realize until that moment that something was terribly wrong. My OB came into the delivery room and sat next to me. ‘I promise you; everything is going to be okay.’ The next morning, I looked over and saw him in the bassinet beside me. ‘Who is this baby? Where did he come from? What happened?’”