“It intensified when I left my parents’ home and went to college. I drastically reduced my food intake. I hate thinking about the look of shock, disappointment, and concern on my mother’s face. She hadn’t seen me since Christmas, so when I came home for Spring Break, my mother was worried sick over my frail appearance. I felt guilty, but not guilty enough to change.”
“Within 24 hours I went from mothering toddlers, to a 7-year-old. I wasn’t sure what to do. We were walking on eggshells, wondering when the lid would blow. I was closing his bedroom door. He stopped me. ‘Mommy, you’re a really good Mom.’ I slid down the door in silent sobs. Those words, coming from that boy, meant more than any accolade I could ever receive.”
“She ran circles around the rest of us, volunteering, coordinating and simply ‘making things happen.’ I, like many, were surprised when her death announcement addressed her struggle with postpartum depression. Her social media portrayed happiness and perfection, never indicating she was suffering.”
“Don’t tell me we only have 18 summers. I’m a mom who can’t get enough of my kids, but quickly has ‘had enough.’ I’m a mom who wanted nothing more than to be a wife and a mother, and here I am, being those things. Well, guess what? It’s a lot harder than I ever imagined.”
“I realized trying to conceal the severity of my symptoms for the sake of ‘keeping my chin up’ was incredibly dangerous. I needed help. My precious baby needed help. My body is forced to keep my baby alive by slowly killing me in the process.”
“I had 3 months to figure out my escape. I stopped fighting back with my daughter’s father and kept calm. He was losing control, and it drove him crazy. ‘You’re not gonna take her from me,’ he’d say. I’d wake up to him pacing the kitchen talking to himself. I stayed quiet and texted a friend who said, ‘Wait 10 minutes, and then you call the cops. He could be lying.’”
“I dropped to one meal a day. Coffee for breakfast, Red Bull at 3 p.m., light dinner. They’d look and say, ‘Congrats! You look awesome!’ It made me feel REALLY good. But part of me wanted to shout in their faces. They might as well have said, ‘That not-eating thing you’re doing? Totally working. Keep it up!’ It fueled me.”
“I asked her, ‘How did you do it all with 4 children?’ I will never forget her answer. ‘You find a way to make it work.’ That next month, I got pregnant with our third son! My first class began the exact day I was in the hospital delivering Wyatt.”
“We each took a deep breath and looked at each other. ‘There is nothing more I can do to help Mike’s heart,’ he says. The doctor said his heart did it’s own bypass! It had healed itself! WOW! I mean WOW! Are you kidding me. We couldn’t get out of that hospital fast enough.”
“It felt like a bomb went off in our family. My head was swirling with fear, confusion, doubt. We went from being a carefree couple that traveled to full-time caregivers of a medically complex child. Call it intuition, gut instinct. I had no idea what to do or how to do it, but I knew with absolute certainty I was ready.”
