“As I watched my newborn having a seizure, my empty womb could feel those movements. I knew in my gut she’d had them before, inside of me, the place she was supposed to be safe.”
“I was afraid of being ‘the blind person,’ of being different. I was afraid of being who I truly am.”
“The pediatrician said, ‘Has anyone talked to you about Finn’s eyes?’ They were dilated and pried open as I sat in the corner in tears.”
“This wasn’t right. I was supposed to be blissfully loading my baby into the car, excited to get him home. Instead, my 5-pound baby, was to have eye surgery at 1 week old.”
“Everywhere we went, people pointed. ’Ew, what’s wrong with her eyes?’ I’d come home angry at the world. ‘I’ll just bubblewrap her and keep her by my side forever.’ She made her own path.”
“When I use my white cane, I am not faking it. I am letting you know I can’t see well, if at all.”
“For a split second, I looked to my husband and thought, ‘What did you—wait, it couldn’t have been you. You can’t be the father.’ Wait, did I? I was delirious and BAFFLED. Neither my sister, my best friend, nor husband said a single word. We were in complete shock.”
With having a moderate case of progeria and knowing I aged faster, I was terrified I would never find someone to love me for who I was.