“All I knew was I was scared of ‘love.’ I didn’t want it. In fact, I wanted to run from it like it was the plague. I wish I could go back and hold myself like I held my siblings. I wish I could tell little Jas that real love was coming. An angel on earth. The most adorable, bi-racial boy with the biggest dimples and largest afro I had ever seen.”
“Had the nurse just called an emergency, had the doctor just put aside that she didn’t like our parental choices… we wouldn’t have to live with this unbearable pain.”
“I won’t be taking these things with me anymore, and I hope you’ll do the same.”
“The medical examiner handed me the two most symbolic pieces left of his life—his wedding band and St. Christopher’s Medal around his neck, marred and tangled in char and plastic.”
“We are constantly bombarded with the idea that we are not enough. I won’t normalize what should not be normal.”
“I want our family to be able to communicate without any barriers.”
“Sometimes, there aren’t enough tissues for the tears or words for the hurt.”
“My body is exhausted, my mind feels lost, and my spirit has been continually crushed. Month after month we try so hard, but are still left with nothing more than a handful of negative tests. Yet, I still can’t get myself to give it all up and quit.”
“It has seen goodnight snuggles and early morning kisses. It has seen driveway slow dances and random living room dance parties. It has seen our family fall into the world of autism. It has seen my beautiful boy grow up from baby to toddler to little boy.”
“Sometimes I don’t feel like praying. Some days I don’t feel like reading my Bible. Some days I don’t even want to get out of bed. Suffering tries to steal my faith daily.”
