Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Families.

The Loss
Losing sucks. But losing "someone" in your life is a different story. We have all lost a soccer game or a game of monopoly with friends, but losing a loved one is hard, especially at fifteen years old. This story is a true story about how I lost my dad. It will make you laugh and cry.
By Olympia Pav8 years ago in Families
The Butterfly Effect
Today, I'm exhausted. My day started at 5:30 this morning when my five year old son decided to creep up the stairs from his bedroom and turn on the living room television. Unfortunately, I was asleep on the couch, having fallen asleep there mid-work last night.
By Destinee Amber8 years ago in Families
Arguing With a Child
Arguing with a child is a losing battle. It is something that you likely shouldn't attempt if you want to keep your sanity. Because if you start an argument with a child it is likely that it will go on forever and you will not win.
By Samantha Reid8 years ago in Families
On Death, Trauma, and Self-Forgiveness
On Sunday, February 4, it will be 13 years since my stepfather died of an overdose. It seems like yesterday, as all life-changing events typically do. I would’ve been 9-years-old, and don’t remember feeling any emotion when I saw the foam falling from his mouth. The following is my journey to forgiving myself for that.
By Estelle Thomason8 years ago in Families
The Other Side
"I didn't have enough time," the man said to the other. "We all have enough time," said the man behind the desk. "You just chose to use yours differently."
By Sidra Lestrade8 years ago in Families
Those Good Old Days
In those good old days we talked about, we lived on a little farm in a three roomed house on a hill side. I loved its rustic charms. Its roof homemade shingles, big cracks in the floor, no curtains at the window. No screen on the door.
By Patricia Kennedy8 years ago in Families
Advice From a Motherless Daughter
I'll never forget the day I was in the hospital room as my mother's doctor explained to her the severity of her cancer diagnosis as well as the very small odds of surviving such an intense and advanced form. I was only 17 and my mother was only 42. By looking at my mother, how much effort she put into everyday and raising six children, you would have never guessed she was sick. In fact, I think she was surprised as she only went to the doctor with a pain in her right side. It was colon cancer, stage IV, that had spread to her liver. The doctors seemed genuinely surprised as colon cancer is usually found in older patients. But, no matter how rare the situation, my mother was one of the unlucky few and I knew I was probably going to lose my mother and soon. My mother passed away a year later, shortly after my senior graduation and suddenly, the world turned into an unfamiliar place, one I didn't know if I would ever come to terms with. I'm going to start this with my advice to those who have lost their mothers and then to those who have not. I feel like both sides are equally important and may, hopefully, be helpful to someone.
By Kasey Gilbert8 years ago in Families
Forever Goodbye
I sit staring at the pale whitewashed wall, with a transparent plastic container holding pamphlets. I look down at the screen on my black iPhone 3. I see the red box with a number "5" hovering over the blue Facebook application button. I click the button and read my status from earlier: “What do you think we’re having, boy or girl? Today’s the day!” I scroll down the screen and read all the responses: “boy,” “girl,” “twins.” Everyone is excited to find out. I hear a familiar friendly voice call out “Rachel.” I get up and walk towards the slim, blonde nurse wearing blue scrubs. As I walk through the waiting room, I notice the usual: people talking, phones ringing, and the daily routines of everyone in the room. After all my vitals are checked, I’m placed in my room. It’s in the corner beside the doctor’s office, with a big gray door and the words “Exam Room 3” on a plaque right in the top middle of the door. I sit on the exam table; in my mind I’m going over all the questions I have been wanting to ask: "Should I feel this nauseous?" "Is my stomach growing enough?" "Is it weird that all I want to eat are lemons?" I can hear muffled conversation through the walls, then a gentle knock, knock on my door. My doctor walks in the room. She tells me to lie back on the table, and then I hear the plastic tube squeeze as I hold my shirt above my belly. I feel the cold slimy gel on my stomach, and then the pressure of the Doppler wand as it glides around my protruding stomach. Then I hear it, the sweetest sound, thump, thump and again thump, thump. My mind goes blank and I enjoy the sound of the little fluttering heartbeat. I forget about my questions and just feel the butterflies dancing in my stomach. My doctor then tells me it’s time. I walk down the wide hall, stepping on different colored carpet squares. Once I’m in the ultrasound room, my eyes try to adjust to the lack of light. I feel the cold chill down my spine, but none of it matters. I’m about to see my beautiful baby on the monitor. This time the slimy gel is warm and again I feel the pressure of the wand moving all around my belly. Suddenly, the technician looks at me with worried eyes and says, “There seems to be low fluid. I’ll have to talk to the doctor.” I’m placed back into my room, and I wait. My doctor rushes in and looks at me, then says, “You’re going to want your husband here.” She tells me a quick description of what is wrong, “Your baby has no kidneys. Your baby won’t be able to survive. I’ll make an appointment for you in Little Rock. They will be able to give you termination options.” All at once, I am unable to breathe. I’m paralyzed. Everything is silent, and her mouth is still moving, but I can’t hear anything she says. All I can hear is my heart beating faster. All I feel is my stomach twisted. All the butterflies were gone and replaced with an aching pain. The experience of losing my daughter and the days I survived, from finding out to saying goodbye, changed me as a wife, mother, and person.
By Rachel B8 years ago in Families
Seize the Moment
Every mom has hopes and expectations when they first see the positive sign on their pregnancy test. The sheer excitement starts to overwhelm their being and the realism of having a baby begins to hit. We even begin to set up a way to tell our significant other that their lives are also going to change; getting up at two AM for that delicious double chocolate fudge sundae so that the baby gets the cravings it needs, or preparing French toast with melted cheese on top, sprinkled with salt and pepper and a slice of tomato. Delicious.
By Kamali'i Stopper8 years ago in Families
Fatherhood
They say that there are three kinds of men when they find out that they are going to be a daddy. The first one is overwhelmed with joy the moment they find out, the second needs to see the ultrasound for reality to sink in that he will be a dad, and the third one gets his paternal instincts as soon as the baby is born in the delivery room. I was neither. Don’t get me wrong, I was happy and looking forward to fatherhood, but it did not hit me until way after he was born.
By Robert Gonzalez8 years ago in Families
My Life and How Rough It Has Been
My name is Whitney King and I am 22-years-old. Personally all the roughness of my life started when I was eight-years-old. Well that's when the actual pain started. I was abandoned by the man I thought was my biological father and finding out three months later he wasn't. So that's when the anger and self pity on myself started to flood in. I became violent and out of control to the point I could not control the anger and hate that I had towards my family and for myself. My mom had a choice to give me up and put me into the system but she didn't. She actually had them put me in a children's hospital up in Concord, California, which I did get a lot of help from. I was diagnosed with Bipolar disorder which scared my mom, my family, and it also scared me.
By Whitney King8 years ago in Families
I Don’t Sleep Well When It Snows
I Don’t Sleep Well When It Snows I don’t sleep well when it snows outside, or if they’re even calling for snow. I will force my dry and tired eyeballs to stay open until I at least see the very first flake fall to the ground. It’s like I need visual confirmation that my brain can start racing away. Then, after I’ve crept into my bed, and whilst rejoicing in the beautiful quiet the snow brings to the city, I get to reflect on all the memories I’ve had with snow.
By L.E. Harrison8 years ago in Families