JJ
All of life's worries seem meaningless when your child is in danger.
All of life's worries seem meaningless when your child is in danger.
Her four-year-old daughter turned to me from her spot in the tree and said, "Climbing trees is more fun than losing mothers."
My first child was born on Christmas day, just in time for her great great grandfather to see her on his death bed.
When he told his four-year-old daughter that the doctor just needed to look at her eyes to make sure they were okay, she whispered, "Will he put them back in when he's done looking at them?"
My grandma was waiting for my dad to take her to the hairdresser, but when he didn't show she went up to his room only to find empty wine bottles, pills, and him dead on the couch.
Her only food for the day was half an ear of corn, so I did not let her see me cry when she broke a piece off and placed it in my hand.
Losing my infant daughter was the most pain I've ever been in; her organs saving two babies was the balm that helped my healing and provided hope.
Everytime I stare at my son's gravestone in the ground, I think of how much a hate his father.
My husband informed me that he isn't a kid anymore because he eats his snack packs with a spoon.
I sneak into my son's room at night to smell his bad breath, because of a book I read where the father somehow knew his son was going to die because of his sweet breath.
Fear and heartbreak clutched at me as they tightened the handcuffs on my wrists and took my baby girl away - because I'd been responsible enough to bring her to the hospital.
Moments after my three year old son stated, "I help Daddy," I came to realize that our Christmas tree was on fire.
Telling an athiest that your unborn child not having a heartbeat is "part of god's plan" makes absolutely nothing better.
How do you pray for a heart for a sick little girl when you know it's like hoping for someone else's child to die?
Did the nurse really have to laugh when my mom said her nine-year-old had dropped a toenail in his eye and we couldn't find it?
Every time I have an appointment as a 25-year-old woman I still resort back to the 7-year-old I was when I was molested by my doctor.
She often cries while watching him sleep, hands clasped on his chest, reminding her again of his sister's tiny corpse.
She meant to say "You crack me up," but the words escaped as "You creep me out."
They had swaddled the newborn so it appeared to be sleeping, and as I walked by the crying from the other side of the door, I found myself leaving to go hold my own newborn son.
He wouldn't eat the turkey, so we told him it was Thanksgiving Chicken.