“Every evening, I cried in the shower to hide my pain from my children. Being a divorced single mom wasn’t what I’d envisioned. I refused to believe we couldn’t get a second chance at love.”
“We sat in a circle on a bedroom floor. ‘Last night daddy went swimming. His body died. He won’t come home ever again.’ One week after the funeral, I received a call: ‘You have cancer, and not the run-of-the-mill kind. It travels distantly and doesn’t always respond to treatments.’ The rubble of my life had just caught fire.”
“We cried and prayed. We said yes right away. Then we got a call to see if we wanted to foster-to-adopt a 1-year-old boy and a 3-year-old girl.
“Our teen stayed for a few months with her son. Just enough time for me to get used to make-up all over the counter. When she left, I started leaving my eyeshadow out just so it felt like she was still here.
“We waited for his buggy. We had to walk through passport control with him biting, hitting, and screaming as he does when he’s upset. On the plane, he was upset and screaming. We had comments like, ‘Should have brought my headphones.’ He is, in fact, disabled and not just being naughty.”