“Without the pills, I was sick. I couldn’t afford to be in withdrawals and take care of a baby. On my first Mother’s Day, I tried heroin. The emptiness I felt was unbearable. I had to fight for our lives.”
‘Mom, what’s wrong with my uncle?’ He moved on to trying new, stronger drugs. My twin brother died that day.
“He was 19-years-old with acute liver failure. As the hospital elevator doors opened, the words ‘Solid Organ Transplant Unit’ were burned into my brain. How can we be here now? He is so young with so much to life to live.”
“I called my husband, worried what he would say. I wanted my nieces and nephews. He responded, ‘Let’s go get our kids.’ We had no idea what we were getting into. We had never even met the children, and we didn’t have a plan. One by one, they entered the room. I sat there quietly, although inside I was screaming, ‘I am your aunt!’”
“My best friend entered before me. She begged me not to come in. I did anyways – I had to see for myself. All of her shoes were neatly lined up next to the foot of the bed. Her clothes were hung up, and her beauty products were organized.”