humanity
Humanity begins at home.
The Story of Me and Mine
Hello. My name is Chloe Burke. I am 19 years old and a mother of two. My name is nothing more then a name to other people. My whole life I grew up with people not exactly knowing who I was or where I came from or what my purpose was. Well here's my purpose. When I was nine months old I was put up for adoption in the state of Nevada in Las Vegas after my biological father had tried to kill me by hitting me over the head with a hammer. I was hospitalized at Sunrise children's hospital for about a month. My case worker was Nancy Burke. Married to Steven Burke. She spent almost every day with me, getting to know me, falling in love with me, of coarse this is what she has told me because I was too young to remember anything at that age. Later on through the months my case worker soon turned into who I call my adopted mother. I was put under their care as foster parents and three years later was officially adopted into their family. Little did I know that my life was about to turn in to a living hell. My father was a very religious man a man who believed that everything happens for a reason and that everyone of his children should be baptized into his church. My dad is LDS. My mother on the other hand wasn't very involved with God or really any spiritual being of that matter. She believed that whatever happens happens and that was that. At the age of five I was introduced to the Mormon church and out into what they call primary sunbeams.
chloe burkePublished 6 years ago in FamiliesShitting on Icebergs
I stood there, crying — no. Sobbing, hysterically into my brother's chest. I'm 23 years old, and I stood barefoot in my front yard hyperventilating, shaking, trying to catch my breath.
S. Lily GraysonPublished 6 years ago in FamiliesOrphan
Your baby dies unborn. Unloved. Fatherless. It’s OK because its mother never really wanted it anyways. “We’ll get through this together,” your boyfriend tells you. You’re not even sure if it was his to begin with. It doesn’t matter. It's been two weeks since you’ve seen him. It’s Valentine’s Day. You’re alone.
Aliza DubePublished 7 years ago in FamiliesLife After My Hysterectomy
I am grieving. I am mourning the deaths of babies I never had the opportunity to make. I've not lost any children, but I feel like I am in mourning because I've lost my ability to create them. I feel the same sense of hopelessness, the same overbearing feeling of loss, the same finality with my hysterectomy as I do about death. I am helpless.
Stress at a Young Age?
Have you ever seen anyone that was so stressed out that they changed, including yourself? As I remember as being a young girl and helping my mom watch my younger brothers, I have seen it a lot in my family and friends to identify it. To see anyone you love go through harsh times is not fun to see nor tempting to bring out of the blue, mostly being at the age of four. Looking back, I had been affected and now look at me, my emotions take control of me more than it should.
Putting It Out TherePublished 7 years ago in FamiliesChanging Pace
I thought I knew exactly who I was. I knew what I wanted. I had everything I had ever asked for out of life, and I still wasn't happy.
Stacey ThomasPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesUnexpected Miracle
Living your life as a teenager is hard enough... especially when your life gets turned upside down within nine months. As a kid I was the social butterfly, until my brother turned on me. Growing up with an addict brother was different. But I never let it get me down, I still went to friend's houses, birthday parties, and skating rinks with my friends. Then one day after school, my mom had to work late and my dad was always at the shop till at least 9 o’clock. But I thought my brother was home so I was good. Then an hour later, he comes barreling through the front door like a bat out of hell, screaming at me for making a mess. I could tell he wasn't right. In his eyes there was nothing. Like being in a crowded room, where you don’t know anyone. The more anger he had in his eyes the closer he stepped towards me. Finally I ran in to the wall, no where else to run to. Then it happened. He struck me with all his strength. Over and over again I felt his whole body weight hit me over and over again. The one I was supposed to be able to look up to, the one I thought I could trust, turned on me. Made me his personal punching bag for the night.
Hanah EvansPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesDeadbeat Dads
Like a double-edged sword, the parenting standard for men and women, especially in the minority communities, across the country has been proven bias. The concept of a deadbeat dad in our society is one that labels a father who is not in the child’s life as a second-rate citizen. But what are the circumstances behind this estranged relationship? Is it deliberate? Is it intentional?
Chris RicksPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesI Am Just a Worthless Stay at Home Mom
A couple years ago I needed to get a job. After looking through the wanted ads and checking out all the job listings in my area, I realized to my shock that I had no marketable skills whatsoever. I was a grown woman in my late thirties and the only place I was qualified to work turned out to be a retail store for little more than minimum wage. You see, I had been a stay-at-home mom for the last 15 years.
Lana HutchinsonPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesBe Thankful for What You've Got
Sometimes, in this crazy, fast-moving world, we can forget to be grateful. Sure, life is stressful, and it can be easy to wish things were different, but we should always try to take the time to be grateful for what we have, and not sit pondering on what we don't have.
Billi KeoghPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesThe 5-Day Hurricane
Love comes through the center of the historical Hurricane Harvey. Day 1 It’s Friday, August 25th, 2017, in The Woodlands, a suburb of Houston, Texas.
Eve AmadeusPublished 7 years ago in FamiliesThe Scary Monster Called "Different From"
Today, my son began talking about his upcoming school year, mentioning things such as who would his homeroom teacher be, what friends would be in his homeroom, and so on. He then said he hated school last year. Perhaps if he said this before August 12, it might have gone over my head. We have all said "I hate this," or "I hate that" as if it were no big thing. But today, it chilled me to the bone, sounding like nails down a chalkboard. I interrupted and said, "Please don't say hate so easily. You don't really hate those things. It takes a lot to hate, and it's such a strong word, so please try not saying it like you just did."
Vince BandillePublished 7 years ago in Families