“They refused to allow my husband back upstairs after he got off work, saying my unit didn’t count as a maternity unit. He flipped out. I cried and hid in the dark for two days. I let my husband go. What kind of mother was I to put her life at risk? I finally understood what it meant to give up anything to keep my family safe.”
“I parked my tired butt on the couch, overindulged in some sweets, and started to cry. I can barely wife and mom. Last night, it hit me like a ton of bricks. ALL OF THIS. I haven’t hugged my mom!”
“My ex said, ‘Ending a relationship is not a good enough reason to be diagnosed with PTSD.’ I had dark thoughts of not wanting to be here anymore. Nothing will ever compare to someone choosing not to love you anymore when you need their love and support the most.”
“If I wanted to impress a crowd, I could. I’ve got my ducky little life put together. At home, my children are laughing, my husband is eating a hot dinner, and the floor is tidy and clean. Right beneath the surface, hidden right before your eyes, is someone desperately trying to stay afloat.”
“She was fried. She hadn’t slept much. I felt invisible. She looked at me and said, ‘This isn’t you, or the parent you want to be, so you need to tell me what you need or snap out of it.’ We sat in that uncomfortable place for a good 45 minutes.”
“Even though it’s hard, and even though you’re tired, keep pressing on. Keep showing up. Because He’s watching and He never leaves.”
“OMG YOU GUYS. I notice that EVERY. SINGLE. CAR. THERE is either some sort of hot rod muscle car. I spent the next ten minutes until the ‘parade’ started avoiding eye contact with anyone, plotting my escape.”
“Mama, can’t you see your transformation? I wish those corridors could applaud you. Then you would see the strength you possess. I wish those halls could rock you. To ensure you felt safe and supported. I wish those walls could whisper. So you would know that however your birth played out, you were amazing.”
“‘This isn’t the way I’m supposed to live my life.’ I wanted so badly to be a mom. ‘Who will ever marry someone like me?’ I remember thinking, ‘Who would let me raise their baby? I am an awful human being.’”
“I always imagined this big strong guy like my husband – a star football player and maybe a military pilot. But after Gabe’s diagnosis, suddenly those dreams came crashing down. I worried if Gabe would ever drive, get married, or just end up living with us forever.”
