“Every day I pick up the towel he hangs on our curtain rod and throw it on a hook in the bathroom, put his hair gel back in the bathroom drawer that was 3 inches from where he placed it, close literally every dresser drawer, and pick up at least two pairs of his shoes somewhere in the house.”
“Even on my sickest days, my husband is assuring me I’m an amazing mother to our children, and that I am the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.”
“There are many of us invisible parents, with only children we hold in our hearts rather than our arms. We don’t have any other living children to help ease the pain and ache, but let me assure you, our motherhood and fatherhood is valid and important, and our children’s lives matter.”
“We were walking out of the house when a feather floated right in front of us. As we sat enjoying our morning coffee, another tiny feather made an appearance. On the drive home, I kept thinking … two feathers … what does that mean? But I had a hunch. I went straight to the bathroom and found a pregnancy test.”
“I was carrying our abuser’s baby after I had accused her of lying about him. ‘I’m so sorry for not believing you.’ I was nothing to her, and she took me in. When she walked into that elevator, I grabbed her and hugged her tight. She held me back and just cried uncontrollably.”
“I remember every single detail about this day. I knew what I was coming into, but in no way was I prepared for it. Your nurses before me had gotten you so handsome, dressed for your family. You looked so small in that big bed.”
“I know this isn’t something on the forefront of your mind, and that’s okay. We don’t need every special moment documented…but, let’s be honest. We spend a lot of time doing just that for everyone else. Please.”
“I got a call from my best friend’s husband. It was clear he didn’t really know how to say it. ‘If it were me I would want to know.’ My hands and feet got hot and sweaty. It was so many people… so many of my friends were involved. I couldn’t trust anyone. All I could do that week was sob, hysterically sob and compulsively take showers.”
“She was 3. That was the last time I took her to his grave. She told me her ‘heart hurt too’ much and she didn’t want to go back. She asks if our family can die and ‘be a star in the sky with daddy.’ I go straight into Mommy mode and reassure her we can’t be stars. It’s not our time.”
“I begrudgingly shared my email with her. She thought I’d be a good fit for her son, who she said looked like Matt Damon. He walked into my apartment wearing ‘white snake jeans,’ a brown trucker shirt, and black shiny shoes. Obviously, it was not his wardrobe that won me over.”
