“Every single day, I feel resentment, sadness, frustration. I reminisce about my lost freedom. The days I would wake up with energy, pull out my to-do list, and get everything done. The days when I could hop in the car and run a quick errand, take a nap, or shower whenever I wanted. The days I could set BIG goals and actually attain them.”
‘My kids were unplanned and accidental. I never wanted to be a mom. I don’t enjoy playing with my kids. I don’t like being touched or needed. They are chains, heavy weights.’
‘Motherhood is really tough.’ You’d think, ‘Well that’s crap.’ Birth was traumatic. As a child of sexual abuse, a traumatic birth can be very re-triggering. I didn’t count on that.’
“I expected to be handed my baby like I was Beyoncé in a floral garden and the heavens open up. Instead, I felt like a potato cake seagulls were fighting over, one stitching me up, one folding my boob like a hamburger to stuff in my baby’s mouth, and one pressing so hard on my stomach I thought she was going to touch my spine. Yep, didn’t count on that.”
‘Hey Dad, I want to raise your son. I want him as my own,’ I insanely told my dying father. ‘I didn’t want to put that burden on you,’ he said. He died just 18 hours later.’
“‘Adopt him. You’re supposed to be his mom. You’re the one. Tell your dad. Tell him now.’ My dad visited me in dream. I was standing in a white room. He walked towards me holding a baby wrapped in a light blue blanket. He handed him over, smiled and kissed the baby’s head. When I woke up, I knew.”
‘I took maternity photos in the dress I wore to my husband’s funeral.’
“I didn’t know I was pregnant on the day of the funeral. Clothes were strewn about in a panic as I rummaged through every drawer, hamper and closet 2 hours before I was supposed to meet the photographer. Then I saw it. Hanging quietly in the corner where it had remained for the last 7 months.”
‘The anesthetist put a mask over my face. ‘Please help me, I’m going to die.’ She replied, ‘You‘re not going to die.’ I thought about the family I was leaving behind, and then it went dark.’
“Mom kept saying to me, ‘You’re in labor.’ I kept replying, ‘No I’m not.’ Ethan and I just kept repeating, ‘IMAGINE, imagine if this is it!’ We were so excited, and so naive of what was to come. I put my chin to my chest and pushed as hard as my body could handle.”
‘I got implants after having a baby. I truly thought, ‘No big deal.’ I started having pain, EVERYWHERE. I pulled in to a gas station and called my husband. ‘SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH ME.’
“Then one day I met someone. I started reading the posts and asking questions. I found woman after woman with stories that mirrored mine. They were ME! I was THEM! Some were so sick they were on the verge of death, LITERALLY. This is when everything changed. Suddenly, I knew I needed to get them out of me ASAP.”
‘Hubby: ‘I sent these pictures to work to show them the baby. They’re good, right?’ Me: ‘You’re kidding me, right? OH MY GOD! I am NOT covered up down there! Did you even LOOK at them?’
“Hubby: (in a rising and panicked voice). ‘Well, yeah. And I even had your DAD look at them before I sent them!’ My dad’s eyes are bulging out of his head. Dad starts trying to defend them. ‘We were just looking at your faces, it was a cute family photo…. Well, from the top up!’ My husband goes into damage control. ‘Oh no, oh my God, how did I miss that?’”
‘Our daughter was referred to as a number, I still remember that number to this day. I dropped to my knees and cried and begged and pleaded.’
“I felt so guilty, why couldn’t my body handle being pregnant?”
‘Stephanie, our daughter is defective.’ Her father left us after learning of her diagnosis. I wondered how the rest of the world would accept her, after her own flesh and blood CHOSE not to.’
“He reminisced about how he and his friends in school used to make fun of people with Down syndrome and scream across the playground calling them the ‘R’ word. He continued to state, ‘People will look at Hannah and feel sorry for us, and then they will blame this on me.’”
‘I answered the phone. ‘Anne?’ No, this is her daughter.’ ‘Oh, I didn’t know she had a daughter.’ Did my mom not talk about me? Was I not good enough for her?’
“When she asked how far along I was, I told her, ‘just 3 weeks.’ She responded with, ‘Wow, you’re really on top of things.’ I felt like I loved Grace more? What was wrong with me? I didn’t tell anyone, not even my husband.”
