Devon Ledbetter is a writer and editor based in Florida. She holds a BA in English from Florida State University. She currently formerly worked as a Digital Editor with Love What Matters and has previously had works published with College Magazine and Her Campus. Her favorite pastimes include beach trips, baking, and concerts. You can learn more about Devon through her portfolio https://dnl16b.wixsite.com/ledbetter-portfolio
“It was hard for me to focus, understand new material, or even remember what I did the day before. It took me an hour to read 10 pages. Everything I thought I knew how to do, suddenly did not make sense.”
“At 5, I introduced myself as ‘Kaleb.’ When watching movies, I was supposed to envision myself like the princess, but I saw myself as Tom Sawyer or Huck Finn. ‘When I grow up, I’m going to cut my hair short and wear boy clothes.’ If I hadn’t chose the path I did, where would I be today?”
“Allen lay on the dusty barn floor face up. He was foaming out the mouth. ‘Brittany, be careful there is a gun.’ All I could do was cry out loud, ‘No! I am pregnant, he can’t be gone!’ I moved back in with my parents. My world was literally turned upside down.”
“‘It’s terminal. No cure. He has 6 months left.’ He grabbed me by the hand and asked if he could have one last dance with me. We slow danced in the middle of his hospital room as the monitors beeped in the background. He was withering away. Don’t wait to take the trip, don’t wait to say I’m sorry. Each day is a gift.”
“My sobbing husband pulled me close and choked out, ‘Don’t EVER let me be a vegetable. Do you hear me???’ The weight of his words shattered my shock. My face crumbled. ‘It’s recommended you never procreate again.’ We’d accidentally gotten pregnant the last month it would ever be possible.”
“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.”
“My doctor asked, ‘Are you having substance abuse issues?’ I was taken aback. I told her no. I was very hesitant to take any medications, much less for pain. ‘Leave a urine sample on the way out.’ She ran a full drug screen without telling me. It came back clean, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t believe me. She didn’t believe my pain. I was heartbroken.”
“Our physician said three words: ‘How are you?’ As I bounced our colicky daughter up and down in my arms, I immediately fell apart. For the first time in two months, I answered that question honestly – I told her I was not okay and I needed help.”
“We were both trying at the same time. But with so many previous failures, what were the odds of both embryos sticking? ‘What?! Seriously?! How?! Are you crazy?’ Our doctor said, ‘I’ve never seen this before!’ We had to juggle life with three under three.”
“My son looked at me with heavy, sad eyes. ‘Mommy, can you PLEASE call the doctor and ask if I can go play yet?!’ My heart sank. Co-workers bombarded me with, ‘Oh, great. Just what I need. Now I’m supposed to get tested TOO?’ I felt I let everyone down for simply being exposed. I cried the whole way home.”
