“I was usually good at hiding my bruises, but one day I didn’t do a very good job. ‘How did this happen?!’ my teacher asked. I told her it was from carrying firewood. Minutes after I got home, there was a man in a tan suit at my door. CPS. The beginning of my journey across 40 foster homes. I feel so lucky to have beaten the odds. Not for me, but for my sons. I’d go through my childhood 1,000 times if it meant my sons didn’t have to.”
“I can’t let you leave with that blood pressure reading.’ Her statement was so unexpected. It was too early. I had too much to do before the boys were born.”
“They had to move her wedding day to that very day at 5:00 p.m. I usually can withstand any sort of stress on the job. But the emotional roller coaster of this 1-hour celebration of life has got to be by far the toughest wedding I’ve ever had the honor of documenting.”
“I was praying the length of the walk to the beach chairs something like, ‘Lord, help me to have peace about this body so I can confidently enjoy my time with my family and these precious kids you gave me.'”
“The lady smiled as my daughter answered her question, then looked to me and said, ‘Wonderful! So the other kids must be home with dad.’ I simply nodded. Sometimes it’s just easier to stay silent.”
“This moment isn’t at all how you envisioned, but you are determined to embrace it anyway.”
“We delivered boys on the same day, in the same hospital, by the same doctor. Being a twin is unlike anything you can explain or understand.”
“Thinking he was confused, I told him we didn’t know if it was a girl or a boy yet. He just winked at me.”
“The second Michael caught a glimpse of his brother from across the playground, he ran with all his might and jumped into his arms. We looked at each other and truly understood Dayshawn and Michael needed to be together. I’ve fallen in love over, and over, and over again.”
“We talked a bit, fell asleep. The next thing out of her mouth was a gasp. I shook her, screamed her name. No response. A wave of terror came over me as I fumbled to call 911. A machine violently compressed her chest over and over. They wouldn’t stop until I gave the word. I started to get pleading looks from the doctors. As each excruciating second passed, hope faded. Death enveloped the room. I finally uttered the words, ‘It’s enough.'”
