As a Digital Editor of Love What Matters, I'm here to pull on your heartstrings and make you smile. After spending nearly six years as a Digital Reporter for ABC News' "Good Morning America," I'm thrilled to continue sharing touching and inspiring stories that the world is so craving. We can all use more love in our lives -- now you've found the perfect place to get it.
“My son climbed onto the counter and got into some medication. This launched an investigation of abuse on me. The state caseworkers were trying to prove I purposely overdosed my son because he was ‘just too much for me.’ ‘Too much for me?!,’ I exclaimed, ‘These kids are everything to me.’ They replied, ‘We believe you’re too stressed from a recent divorce. We need to make sure you are safe for your children.’ I felt the fire consume me. It was all so much.”
“The lights went off. I was sure I’d see the whole neighborhood dark – it couldn’t just be MY house. I had a $1,500 credit on my electric bill after my husband died. I saw my neighbor’s Christmas display up and running, complete with a tiny robotic carolers singing, ‘Joy to the World,’ while my blow-up Santa lay lifeless in the front yard. ‘Can you just send the technician back?’ She was NOT having it.”
“He was sobbing. ‘Abigail…’ My heart dropped. ‘Dad, what the heck is going on?’ He responded, ‘I think your sister was arrested. She called and said the cops were after her. Then the call dropped. I haven’t heard from her since.’ She was last seen at the Denver International Airport. My dad escorted her to security where she was catching a plane to rehab. The reality of what happened hurts too much to face. I find myself getting so angry at her. She was so close. She was on the plane.”
“I felt a real connection to this guy, we’ll call him Farmer Boy. We really did click. We exchanged phone numbers. Had great conversation. Had a date planned for Friday. Then our conversation came to a screeching halt. My friend messaged me. ‘Soooo, my cousin went to the same high school as your farmer boy… graduated high school in 2017.’ I fired back at him. ‘Are you lying about your age?’”
“I finally gave in and made the call. I cut the doctor off. ‘My water just broke.’ Right there in the middle of my kitchen. His tone quickly changed. ‘Get to the hospital ASAP.’ We were snowed in, at the worst possible time. The woman at the desk asked me, ‘Are you pregnant?’ I wasn’t sure how to reply. Do I explain, ‘Yes, I am in labor with my dying son,’ or just let it alone? They wheeled me into the operating room. ‘Oh you just had a baby! Congratulations!’ Those words stung very deep.”
“Immediately our midwife called in the doctor. Within 3 minutes of meeting our precious Oliver, he was taken off my chest and over to the incubator. I didn’t know how to feel. My midwife was still trying to get me to stop bleeding as I struggled to see my baby. There was no time to process, research or pray. Here he was, our firstborn. We had no idea how to be parents, but then to throw in a special needs child, we were numb.”
“It was 3 days after my 18th birthday, I stood in my bathroom screaming in horror. I was pregnant. Of all the stunts I’d pulled in my teenage years, this was by far the worst. What was even worse… I didn’t know if the baby was my boyfriend’s, or if I’d gotten pregnant by a guy I had a fling with in school. I hadn’t told my boyfriend there was a chance the baby wasn’t his. I was so ashamed I could hardly look him in the eyes.”
“A friend posted that they didn’t use diapers – they simply held their baby over the toilet or ground, from birth, and avoided poopy diapers. I thought, ‘I’m in! Where do I sign up?’ When I discovered I was pregnant, I bought a book that explained this phenomenon that could save me from All. The. Mess. It just felt right. On the day of his birth, my son started wriggling and bearing down. I was handed a small potty and held him over it. He did that first nasty poop in the potty, and I can assure you I never looked back.”
“At 24, I’d been married to Peter less than a year. ‘Are you alright?’ I must’ve looked flush. My knees gave out. As I stepped toward the waiting room, time slowed to a crawl. Heaving sobs came next. ‘Oh honey,’ she whispered. ‘I am so sorry.’”
“I never mailed the kids’ lists to Santa. We have yet to make a gingerbread house or watch ‘It’s A Wonderful Life.’ It feels like I’ve dropped the ball, it has broken and shattered, and like I don’t even have the energy or desire to clean up the mess.”
