Elizabeth Grow is an editor and content writer for Love What Matters. A graduate of Utah State University, she now lives in Las Vegas with her husband and two dogs. Elizabeth loves sharing stories that raise awareness for neglected populations within our society, particularly the mentally ill. She loves music, any kind of DIY craft project, and a good movie.
“He said in a gentle voice, ‘Can we talk to you both in the conference room?’ I knew we were going to receive life-changing news. ‘What more could go wrong?’ I wanted to not be me. Most moms dream of that euphoric moment when their precious baby is delivered into their arms. I did too. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the dream. I got the nightmare. The daughter I had dreamed up was gone.”
“I never planned to be a medical expert, or to have to inject my daughter to save her life. Ten times I’ve swallowed back tears while holding my limp child in my arms; remembering each step to prepare the syringe; taking a deep breath as I jab it into her thigh; praying she will jolt awake, open her eyes, and come back to life.”
“I was 22 years old and feeling lonelier by the day, as my disease progressed faster than I could have imagined. One day in particular, I broke. I cried and cried. My mom saw it happening through the kitchen window and rushed to me in the driveway. She hugged me. I still think about that hug.”
“When the news of divorce was trickling through the household, I came back from a long bike ride to find Mom talking with Dad, her eyes swollen and red from crying hard. She saw me, brightened, and cheerfully asked me all about my adventure that day — hiding her heartache for my sake.”
“My buddy found a window that was unlocked and we climbed in… to a ladies’ restroom. And it was occupied. There was lots of screaming and shrieking and we didn’t know what to do. ‘What’s going on in here?!’ He introduced himself as Marty Robbins. ‘You guys come with me.’ The cops said, ‘We’ve been looking for these boys!’ We thought for sure they were going to arrest us.”
“When I had my first period, I felt I was confessing to a huge crime. I asked her, ‘Why?’ She simply said, ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’ I moved into a rundown bed where nobody spoke English. There was no lock on the front door and I frequently saw and heard people doing drugs on the roof of my bedroom.”
“I woke up with blood-shot eyes. Everything was a blur. ‘This is going to go away. It can’t get worse.’ This is when my eyesight started to deteriorate. Here I was, 26 years old, a month before my dream wedding day. I had the most beautiful wedding dress, and desperately wanted to look good in my wedding photos. ‘How could this be happening to me?’ I was so angry at the world.”
“I started crying a lot and cutting myself. I began smoking cigarettes and drinking. I was stoned all the time. I still missed my father. Every time I saw him in town, he walked away. He ignored me, pretending I didn’t exist. And he still does, and has for 11 years.”
“She promised, ‘I will move closer and you will be seeing a lot more of me, because I finally want to be the mother you deserve.’ Seven years went by before I heard from her again. I have been tested, twisted, and pulled and have learned so much about who I am capable of being.”
“A nurse grabbed me, saying, ‘Pray for your son NOW, and pray he makes it.’ She asked me if I needed to leave the room. ‘No, I’m NOT leaving my son.’ Every day I felt like I was dreaming. I don’t know how I was still standing.”
