“I peek into the bathroom. He is NAKED, on the toilet with his face in a garbage can. He hears me shriek with laughter and screams, ‘CLOSE THE DOOR DANIELLE!!’ Me: ‘You drink a little too much?’ Justin: ‘NO! It was the chicken wings.’ I am DOUBLED OVER laughing at how ridiculous this is, and how stupid he thinks I am.”
“This was the start of me planning my escape. Shortly after that, the fights worsened.”
“Our doorbell rang. We opened the door and stood face-to-face with two State Troopers on our front porch. My head was spinning. This could not be happening. To us. To HER.”
“She would cry many mornings as I cried, broken over the pain she was experiencing and longing with a deep ache for an adoptive family for her where she would know the love of a forever home.”
“She came into my room last night around 3 a.m. She was crying real tears while feeding him his bottle. She was begging me to help her because she just wanted to get some sleep. She is absolutely exhausted, ready to quit the class and give William back. Maybe even throw him back.”
“He came into our lives, and the bedroom became his. He was delayed due to the neglect, but quickly loved to be snuggled. We thought he could stay. But that was not to be. Through our tears we hugged him and told him we loved him. Then, we buckled him into a car and watched it drive away.”
“Through tears, I asked: ‘Will I ever hear his little voice again?’ But, what can you do when your baby can’t breathe? We knew it was the right decision. Something had to be done for him. ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Let’s do it.’”
“I was bombarded with numerous questions. ‘What were you wearing?’ ‘Did you make them think you wanted it?’ ‘Why were you walking by yourself?’ For years, I recoiled at anything that made me feel sexy.”
“Everyone warned me about the toddler years. The ‘terrible twos.’ The tantrums. The tears. All the dramatics. And right now, we’re in it. But let me tell you a little secret about this ‘trying stage.’”
“My anxiety was at an all-time high. I was embarrassed and ashamed of my kid’s behavior. I needed a mental break. I needed to be alone. The very next day, the triplets’ Pre-school teacher recommended therapy for my boys. I was devastated. Defeated. How has it come to this? Is it really that bad?”
