I found myself struggling to suppress the sound of sobs as they wracked my body. Tears streamed down my face and I rolled onto my stomach so they would stop trailing into my mouth and ears. I buried my face into my pillow and cried and cried and cried because I was suddenly face-to-face with a reality I’d been avoiding since I learned of my son’s cleft lip. I could not protect him.
"With each of those questions, the certainty that I was doing what I was meant to do faded, replaced by an overwhelming fear. Much like the unspeakable force that pushes my feet into motion just a little bit faster when I leave my basement, I felt my heart pounding harder than its average pace. My mind began churning with them. ... Imaginary monsters."
"I impatiently waited for the niceties to be over with, so she could tell us our child was fine and I had been worrying over nothing. But she didn't say that."
"I wanted to ease us into the deep stuff and give you a chance to know me a bit better."