I wish, for so many reasons, that we were closer. It seems that all your life I’ve watched you hurting, and I’ve never been able to help you. Either it was out of my hands or you wouldn’t let me close enough to be any good.
I know I’m a disappointment to you, and that there are times you wish we didn’t share a name. I’m sorry. As difficult as our relationship has been, I have always been proud to call you my sister.
When you were five and our parents divorcing, I should have been more sensitive. I should have seen the Little Sister that needed reassurance.
Looking back, I don’t know why I minded it when you followed me around – you were so darn cute!
When you were playing softball, I wish I hadn’t been so wrapped up in my teenage-self. I wish I’d praised you for all your hard work; told you how great you were. Had I praised you, would you have felt shadowed by our middle sister’s spotlight? Would you still have given up sports?
Maybe it would have changed your future to hear how proud I was of you.
When you were experiencing your own depression, I wish I hadn’t been thousands of miles away. I’d have held you as you cried. Maybe then you wouldn’t have tried to overdose. If I’d been there to listen, would you have started cutting?
When you enlisted in the military, did I tell you how my heart swelled with pride? When you came back from your basic training and tech school I was, once again, wrapped up in my own stuff.
Did I tell you that I missed you each day you were gone?
And now, when you’re hurting – when your life is spinning- the distance between us is more than the five-hour drive. I want to call you and listen to your tears. I want to to tell you that broken hearts hurt worse than childbirth, but that you’ll heal and be stronger.
I want to comfort you and give you the compassion and support that I know you won’t get from our mother or our middle sister.
It’s silly, really. We’re so much alike, you’d think we’d be closer. But, as I look back, I can see all the wedges I drove between us.
And so, I’ll write this letter to you; a letter you’ll never see. I’ll keep you in my thoughts as I wait to hear news of you. And I’ll pray that this isn’t the thing that causes you to hurt yourself again.
You are such a beautiful person.
You give so much of yourself to everyone. You, who never wanted children, are my son’s favorite aunt. He glows when he talks of his time with you and he tells anyone who will listen that he wants to join the military, just like his heroes. Do you know you’re one of his heroes?
Do you know you’re one of mine?
I love you to the depths of my soul. And no matter what, you will always be a part of me.
Just before her adoption, we were asked to also foster her little sister, who was about to be born.
I was hesitant. I didn’t want to take on a child who had a high chance of returning to her birth parents. But I couldn’t let my little girl’s sister go to strangers, so we said yes.
As time passed, the birth parents weren’t doing their part, and I felt more and more like she was my baby, and I would have her forever.
I should have been happy. I had everything I’d ever wanted!
The money the state paid us to take care of foster children made it possible for me to be home with those two pretty little girls all day. I had always wanted to be a stay-at-home-mom. And now I had not one, but two children to take care of! The girls were happy, and the best sound in the world was their laughter as they played together.
I wish I could say my husband felt the same way.
He was resentful of that baby as soon as she entered our home.
He hated all the time I was spending with her, instead of him.
This one particular night breaks my heart. I wish I could go back and change things, but he had trained me for years not to question him. Fear of his anger kept me frozen.
The baby had learned to stand. She was so proud of herself! There was no stopping her now!
From the time she was a newborn, she had always hated going to sleep, and getting her to settle down for bed was a long, drawn-out process. But with her newly developed skill of standing, it became much worse. I would lay her down, she would stand up. I would put her down again, she would stand right back up.
One night, he had enough. “I”ll make her learn she has to lay down when it’s bedtime,” he said.
He came into the girls’ bedroom with me when I put her to bed.
I laid her down in her crib, telling her goodnight, same as I always did. She stood up, and he sprayed her right in the face with the water bottle we used on the cats when they were doing something wrong. I was horrified!
But what was I supposed to do? He was my husband, and I was afraid to question him.
The battle of wills between a man in his 40’s and a less-than-year-old baby went on for a while. I would lay her down, she would stand up, he would spray her in the face.
Finally, he pushed me too far. She was soaking wet, dripping on her sheets. I knew even if she did go to sleep, she would end up getting sick from trying to sleep in her wet clothes and bed. I took a chance and said, “That’s enough!”
Amazingly, he walked out the door without saying a word.
I took her out of her bed, pulled her wet clothes off of her, dried her with her little hooded towel, then put clean, dry pajamas on her. Then I changed the bedding in her crib and started the bedtime process again.
When I walked out of the bedroom, she was back to standing in the crib. I walked out to the living room where he was watching TV. I looked him dead in the eye and said, “Your way didn’t work, and you’re never doing that again.”
He didn’t argue, and he never tried that stunt again.
I think he figured out that there was only so far he could push me when it came to the children.
I guess I could say that I got married the second time because it seemed worth betting that the first time was due to *him…” so a different guy could fix that, right?
But the problem – if you want to call it a problem – is almost certainly me.
My mom said it brilliantly in her recent email to me:
I guess it’s truth out time, and I’m about to be a bad mom.
Truth – Dad wanted to hogtie you and send you to Tijuana before you married Steve*, but I talked him out of it. He was really upset, but I thought he had Steve pegged wrong.
Truth – after living with Steve for two months, I agreed with your father. I wanted to bitch-slap Steve so hard his head would fall off.
Or worse.
Truth – he lied to you about stuff (mostly little things), but I never said a word because I felt it wasn’t my place. But one of those lies cost you 5,000 dollars. You have no idea how furious I was or how much I kicked myself.
I’m sorry.
This really isn’t the time to be landing this stuff on you, but Dad and I both are feeling very responsible for our little girl getting hurt (again) when maybe if we had just opened our mouths, we could have prevented all this. Of course, to be realistic, it may not have made any difference, but these thoughts cross your mind when you’re a parent.
We both agreed when you were little that whoever married you would have to be one hell of a special kind of guy. (In Dad’s words, “God help him”). But I always pictured you either a) single, and blazing through the world in a cloud of glory or, b) married to a guy who was your equal – smart, confident, strong-willed, motivated and out to make his mark on the universe, but at home would have to know just when to push and when not. NOT easy to find!
However this turns out, we’ll always be here – doors and arms open. Remember that. And don’t worry, next time, we’ll speak our piece – welcome or not – and hogtie if necessary!
By the way, your brother wants to kick Steve’s butt for hurting his sister. That’s his way of saying he’s there for you, too. And if you want me there, just call. I can grab a flight and work be hanged! I love you very much – we all do.
Mom
The beautiful part is that they said almost the same thing after my first divorce, although she left out the part about how she always pictured me single.
That would have given me a lot of strength, I think.
I spent my whole life thinking that I was a failure if I wasn’t married – or conversely, that being able to “get guys” to want to commit to me was some kind of major success. I think having a best friend for most of my life who was openly jealous of my relationships probably didn’t help.
But, hey Mom – THIS time I was obviously very hesitant about getting married, and I ASKED you all to tell me if you had any hesitations!
And good grief, Dad, why couldn’t you grow a pair? You knew Steve best, and if you’d said it was a bad idea, wild horses couldn’t have gotten me down that aisle.
Something tells me, though, that I’m not the only person here who bought into this assumption that women simply “should” get married; that getting married is always a victory, even if your (first) husband is half-jokingly gloating that “someone needs to get [you] under control”.
(He did, and so I compensated for that the next time by marrying someone who wanted ME to be responsible for everything. And I was, but it cost me everything I wanted to do for myself!)
I feel like I’m waking up.
Men attacked me when I was a child, so I spent all of my teens obsessed with them, but avoiding any actual contact with them; then I got married as soon as I could; then, divorced and terrified of single motherhood, I got married again as soon as I could; and now here I am fighting my way free again.
It’s been a day and a half since he moved out (temporarily, because things turned violent, though that wasn’t the pattern or anything – but can I add that having the ability to leave immediately if someone breaks that rule with me is something it turns out I REALLY value?), and I’m not in any way looking forward to the next steps, but I do feel like I can see a clear path for the first time in a long while.
Thanks, Mom.
You may have been a little (lot) late, but that helped a lot!
(And you can bet your hiney that when MY little girl wants to get married, I’m making her a laundry list of every reason in the world I can think of not to – if she still does, great, I’ll support her; but she deserves to know what I really think. I guess sometimes the hardest lessons you teach your kids are the ones where you show them how not to do things!)
Nolan “Shepherd,” stillborn at 17 weeks on September 15, 2009.
Amanda’s Baby:
Jamie, 4/6/2010
Angie’s Daughter:
Madeleine Rose, stillborn July 7, 2009 due to incompetent cervix and uterine infection.
Ann’s Son:
Orion, stillborn May 8, 2004
Beka’s Son:
Benjamin, September 4, 2012, stillbirth.
Beryl’s Daughter:
Bella Rose, stillborn on September 9, 2009.
Brenda’s Son:
Emerson Allen Behrends, July 10, 2001, stillborn.
Danielle’s Baby:
Micah Rachel
Debbie’s Son:
Jonathan Edward, June 4, 1992, stillborn.
Debbie And Jeff’s Daughter:
Chloe Eva, September 12, 2008, stillbirth.
Heather and David’s Daughter:
Clara Edith, July 1, 2012, Stillbirth at 42 weeks, 3 days due to meconium aspiration and uterine infection.
Jill and Mark’s Baby:
Haven, November 26, 2003, stillborn at 38 weeks gestation
Jolene’s Daughter:
Ruth, January 3, 2013, stillbirth
Leslie’s Son:
Cullen Liam, born still September 11, 2010.
Lilla and Gareth’s daughter:
Pippa, born still on February 13, 2011 from listeria infection.
Lillie Belle:
Stillborn, born still 2017
Lisa’s Daughter:
Kaitlyn Grace, stillborn, born still, May 13, 1995.
Louise and Joseph’s Baby:
Alice Mathelin, born still on February 25, 2011, at 36 weeks and 5 days from Abruptio Placentae
Martha’s Twin Boys:
Owen died March 8, 2008 because his cord wasn’t properly attached to the placenta.
Joshua died one month later, April 6, 2008 because he couldn’t live without his brother. Both were born still on April 8, 2008.
Melanie’s Daughter:
Summer Lily, born still March 30, 2011.
Mel’s Daughter:
Jordan Ala, stillborn on November 13, 2006.
Melissa’s Twins:
Nicholas Aaron and Nathan Alexander, June 9, 2000, stillbirth
Nikki’s Son:
Sam, 1997, intrauterine fetal demise
Sarah’s Daughter:
Audrey Elizabeth, August 7, 1998, born still.
Selah Mae: born January 22, 2002, stillborn.
Stephanie’s Son:
Carter Austin Ross, March 18, 2006, stillbirth due to an umbilical cord anomaly.
TiaMaria’s Daughter:
Isabella-Rose Elizabeth, October 12, 2009, stillbirth.
Prematurity:
Amy and James’s Babies:
Jacob Bennett born and died on July 11, 2007 due to premature rupture of membranes (PROM).
Samantha Lauren born August 16, 2011 at 23.5 weeks passed away September 17th due to extreme prematurity and fungal meningitis.
Baby Helen: Born July, 1993. Passed from prematurity.
Celeste’s Son:
Christopher Robin Cote: Born September 25, 2009. Stillborn due to premature rupture of membranes and incompetent cervix.
Chantel’s Daughter:
Emily, prematurity born 19w 5 days – was too small for the equipment.
Christine’s Son:
Jellybean, born at 5:20 April 15th, 2009; and passed just four short hours later in her arms.
Heather and Aaron’s Son:
Aodin R. Hurd, October 7, 2007, born still due to premature rupture of the membranes.
Jenn’s Son:
Kevin William, prematurity, 2005
Kate’s Babies:
Baby S, March 2008, Miscarriage
Evie, December 14, 2009, Triplet Prematurity
Jack, December 22, 2009, Triplet Stillbirth due to Prematurity
Will, January 13, 2010, Triplet Prematurity
Baby M, May 2010, Miscarriage
Kristin’s Baby (Mama KK):
Ariel Grace, born on July 28, 2009 at 18 weeks 5 days. Lived 5 minutes.
Leleisme’s Babies:
Ayla and Juliet, October 20, 2009 at 20 weeks.
Bayli and Thomas on June 8, 2011 at 21 weeks 2 days.
Matthew Chase Sims:
April 25th, 2006 due to prematurity.
Melissa’s Son:
Born at 21 weeks in June 2011 due to a bacterial infection, lived for 30 minutes.
Melissa’s Daughter:
Hope, 1993
Nicky’s Son:
Samuel, August 8, 2001, prematurity.
Nina’s Son:
Coleman Parker Garibay, September 14, 2005, lost at 6 months gestation and passed from prematurity.
Paula’s Baby:
Reya, September 18 2011, Prematurity due to extreme Pre-eclempsia
Qudija’s Babies
Mikel Azariah and Willamina Azaria born August 12, 2019.
Mikel was stillborn,
Willamina was premature at 22 weeks 6 days
S & T’s Son:
William, November 2, 2013, 24 weeks, 3 days, prematurity
Vickie’s Son:
Collin, complications from prematurity, 2009
Yvette’s Son:
Erik Richard, July 29, 1981, prematurity.
Birth Defects:
Aaron and Kristine’s Son:
Luke Ervin Seitz, born July 21, 2011 with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome, and passed on June 28, 2011.
Amy’s Babies:
Mateo, Anthony, and Ian born on May 6, 2008 at 23 weeks and 3 days.
Mateo was born still.
Anthony passed away from Transposition of the Great Vessels.
Ian passed away after a short stay in the NICU.
Amy’s Babies:
Nathaniel James, August 24, 2001 – August 29, 2001, Citrullinemia
David Henry, May 11, 2010 – January 24, 2011, Citrullinemia, passed away after becoming sick post liver transplant
Baby Khalil, born August 14, 2009, stillborn, born still from birth defects.
Baby Kober
Kyle William Kober July 22, 1994 due to Hypoplastic left ventricle syndrome
Beth’sSon:
Ethan Connor Brockwell, May 3, 2006 – August 17, 2006. Born with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome.
Christopher: November 4, 1979, due to pulmonary atresia, a congenital heart defect.
Christopher’s Son:
Aidan, born with brain malformation on December 16, 2008 and passed on December 19, 2008.
Cora Mae McCormick:
November 30, 2009 to December 6, 2009 from a congenital heart defect.
Ellen’s Son:
Shane Michael, born October 10, 1971 and died October 11, 1971 from heart complications before his mother could wake from anesthesia. She never saw or held him.
Julie’s Daughter:
Brianna Elizabeth, born January 29, 1998 and died March 7, 1998 from a heart defect.
Kathryn’s Son:
Seth Douglas Bonnett, Our Little “Tough guy”, March 27, 2008 – October 12, 2008. Died from Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome.
Raquel’s Son:
Austin Skylar Gregory, born July 3, 2005 and gained his wings August 29, 2005 from Multiple Complex Congenital Heart Defects.
Ruth’s Son:
Corbin Walker, born February 20, 2011 and died May 17, 2011 from heart defects brought on by Williams Syndrome.
Shannon’s Baby:
Chloe Walker, born November 29, 2000 and died June 4, 2001 from multiple congenital heart defects and heterotaxy.
Suzy’s Son:
Starbaby, born still February 2008 due to Trisomy 18.
Venita’s Son:
Matthew Connor – February 26, 2005, born at 26 weeks, passed from Necrotizing Enterocolitis (NEC).
Wendy’s Baby:
Reed Allyvion Miners, passed away July 5th 2003 at one hour old from Primary Myocardial Disease, a congenital heart defect.
Liberty Ann born March 30, 2011 and died on April 19, 2011.
Ally’s Son: Collin
Collin: born on August 9th, 2008. He passed away 30 minutes later from cardiac arrest after an emergency c-section due to a placental abruption.
Amy’s Baby:
Nicholas, born December 14, 2005, died April 19, 2006 from SIDS.
Claudia’s Son:
Max Corrigan, born November 14, 1987 and relinquished to adoption on November 18, 1987.
April’s Daughter:
Brianna Ann 3/19/2018, car accident – donated the gift of life to 5 people through organ donation
Colleen’s Babies:
Bryce Philip born May 26, 2009 and died September 1, 2009 due to SIDS
Ashton Karol, stillborn on February 24, 2010 at 17 weeks.
Jenny’s Daughter:
Addison Leah, June 13, 2008, accidental death.
Jessica and Mark’s Daughter:
Hadley Jane, born October 9, 2001 and died October 11, 2007.
Julie’s Babies:
Halsey Douglas Dukes December 31, 2016, Halsey passed from hemophaygocytic lymphohistiocytosis (HLH)
Halcyon Grayson Dukes was born September 1, 2011 Halcyon failed to develop after 9 weeks
Lanie’s Sons:
Jake, born August 14, 2005 died August 27, 2005 due to prematurity and hydrops.
Sawyer, born November 17, 2009 died December 26, 2009. His cause of death has not been determined because he is part of a study at the Mayo clinic for heart arrhythmias – SIUDS (unexplained sudden infant death)
Leslie’s Son:
Cullen, September 11, 2010, stillbirth.
Mindy’s Son:
Brian Vitale, accidental death, September 4, 2007 – June 3, 2010. We miss him more and more each day.
Nancy’s Son:
Patrick, born April 10, 1977, Adoption
Pharon’s Daughter:
Sophia Lu Boudreau, born December 21, 2006 and died October 9, 2007 from SIDS.
Rebecca and TJ’s son:
Rafe Theobald Calvert, born on October 11th, 2009 at 26 weeks. Spent 3 months in the NICU and underwent an intestinal obstruction repair. He was released on January 11th, 2010 and we brought him home for 6 weeks. He passed away at 4 and a half months old from SIDS on February 25th, 2010.
The Stamm’s Daughter:
Adrienne Mae, May 7, 2006, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.
Suzie’s Son:
Nathan Michael King, died from SIDS November 2008.
Vanessa’s Daughter:
Kendra, April 23, 2005 to March 24, 2006. Died from Jacobsen Syndrome.
With all the upheaval and negativity running rampant through our lives, it’s important to be able to stop, take stock of what’s important, and find some joy wherever we can.
At The Band Back Together Project, we like to take the time specifically to arrange a little happy boost for everyone.
My daughter has always loved to cook and create in the kitchen. When she was four, we were able to have cable television for a time, and the Food Network.
She was in heaven.
Other children turn on cartoons on Saturday mornings. My daughter would rather watch Paula Dean or the Barefoot Contessa.
She had – and still has – such a passion for cooking. She would get so excited every time she made something. It was always excellent! And amazing! Delicious!
Even when things didn’t turn out quite right, she always found a way to declare them good.
The bottom of the cookie might be burnt, but the top of the cookie? That was delicious!
Our scalloped potatoes and ham might be a touch closer to soup than a casserole, but didn’t it taste amazing?
She’d declare our efforts good, and then turn to me and say something like,
“We made this good. But next time, we should make it different, so it’s more good!”
Grammar aside, my daughter knew something at four years old that I still forget:
Even our mistakes can be good.
Our mistakes are how we learn. We muddle through our situations as best we can, and then we look back and see where we can do better next time we’re faced with something hard.
Even our mistakes can be good, if we learn from them.
I’m R and I’m transgender. I’m also the youngest kid in my family. I’m quiet, and my older sibling, L, is not. We are both a lot alike and very different.
I didn’t have a name for how I felt; I just knew I was really unhappy the older I got. I hated the changes puberty was causing. I wanted it to stop. But, I’m quiet and I didn’t say anything. I doubled down on skirts, on leggings, on purses, whatever I could do to be more girly. My mom loved it, so I kept doing it, but I grew more unhappy. I lied about my favorite anime characters, saying I liked girl characters when I was drawn to male characters.
And then, a couple years into this struggle, when I finally had a name for who I was – I am transgender.
L came out to my parents as being transgender and I felt screwed over.
If I disclosed now, my parents would think I was copying him.
So, I dressed even more girly and grew more depressed.
L was immediately accepted. His entire wardrobe of girl’s clothes went to me or were tossed. He got boys underwear, boys jeans, everything a geeky little guy could ask for. I still hammed it up, letting my mom put makeup on me, do my hair, whatever I could do to embrace being female,
It was awful.
I did it anyway, lasting a year and a half into L’s social transition before my mom helped break through my barrier. She guessed, but unlike L’s instant transition, my mom wanted made me to wait an agonizing six months to come out, even though I, too, got a new wardrobe and haircuts that grew increasingly short.
I came out to my extended family as gay first.
It wasn’t quite right, the gay label as a girl, but it let me be out, partially, at least.
Trying to figure out who I was and my sexuality at the same time was torture. I told myself that I must like girls in that way, but I didn’t.
I want someone to partner with, but I was also figuring out that I was asexual. The asexual part was the easiest. I really needed an easy thing at that point.
I tore myself up over being trans, being gay. I felt so alone.
I was more depressed than ever. I still got called by my girl name and it made me sick each time I heard it and saw it.
My mom saw the despair, and four months after coming out to her, I took my new name and came out to my whole family and friends.
My brother and I never said a word to each other during the years we were suffering and trying to figure out what was wrong. We share a room, and both of us are blown away that each night for years we lay in our beds and agonized silently. If one of us would have taken the leap and shared, we could have suffered less.
We knew our parents were LGBT allies and supported one of my mom’s students who was also transgender.
Scared to say the words aloud to ourselves. To each other. To our parents. To the world.
We saw the agony that my mom’s student was in, that moving hours away to an LGBT friendly place was the only way to live openly.
That’s why trans visibility is so important.
Acceptance is essential.
My brother L and I are transgender. We are at peace with that knowledge because we are accepted for who we are. We are supported. We will, in the future, medically transition.
