‘The security guard says, ‘Nope you can’t come in with that.’ It was not allowed unless I had my baby with me. Are you kidding me? The whole reason I have my pump is because I don’t have my baby.’ 

“Ariana Grande announced her tour would only allow clear plastic bags to keep everyone safe. As a breastfeeding mom, I immediately thought, ‘How am I going to fit my breast pump in a clear plastic bag?’ I called Guest Services. They verified I would be allowed. Time to head into the concert.”

‘I was okay with him having a daughter, but NOT an ex. ‘I wonder where she’s sitting? Are they on the same couch? Why hasn’t he texted me? They’re back together, in Vegas getting married.’

“If there was a woman coming into MY daughter’s life, I would need their social security number and 20 references. When I met her, she said ‘hi,’ and walked away. Hi. Hi? That’s it? Where’s the interrogation? Where’s the drug test? I told Sam, ‘She hates me! I should text her.’ I was a total crazy person.”

‘We were both speechless. ‘We’re almost 40 and we’ll be changing diapers again!,’ my husband finally muttered. I didn’t say a word. I was so shocked, my jaw on the ground with tears in my eyes.’

“Two children in Heaven, one here on earth; we were at peace. We signed the paperwork with the fertility clinic to finally close that chapter in our lives. Six months later, we were relaxing with a bottle of wine. Before I poured a glass, I ran upstairs. I was ‘late.’ I barely glanced at it, assuming it would be negative.”

‘I vividly remember. My right arm held the new baby I birthed less than 24-hours ago. My left held my foster son, patting his new sister on the foot. I felt so much joy and so much pain.’

“We sat in the courtroom and listened to the story of lives that had been destroyed. We watched as the judge decided our son could no longer live with his biological parents. I’d be lying if I said a part of me wasn’t relieved. I struggled with feeling I wasn’t enough for these two babies 15 months apart. I believed the lie.”

‘My mom rushed in shouting, ‘Get up! Get up! I need you to keep your dad from getting out of bed.’ I sprinted to their room. ‘911? This must be serious! My mom is running, she never runs!’

“My dad was a zombie. He groaned this horrendous noise. As tears rushed down my cheeks, I ran over. There was a surprise guest waiting to pick me up. ‘They are not sure your mom is going to make it,’ he said. ‘But everyone said it wouldn’t be like my dad!,’ was all I kept repeating.”

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