“Can the kids have some candy?”
“Is it okay for them to have this?”
“Excuse me, can the kids have a sucker?”
I snap back to reality, realizing someone has been talking to me. Though I heard the words, my mind was elsewhere, a million miles away.
“Oh gosh,” I chuckle awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I totally zoned out. What did you say?”
“Can I give the kids a sucker?” the volunteer at the food pantry repeats. I glance down at my children, their eager brown eyes shining with anticipation.
After a quick scan of the ingredient list to check for gluten and dairy, I manage to mumble, “Um, yeah sure, that’s fine, thanks,” hoping my voice conveys gratitude and conceals the embarrassment swirling inside me.
It’s a bright Saturday morning, and we’re standing in line at the food pantry—the very one where I used to volunteer. But today, I’m not here to help others; I’m here praying they don’t run out of diapers before we reach the front. I’ve traded places; I’m the one in need now.
Three years ago, I could never have fathomed this shift. I was always the giver, volunteering at the food pantry, animal shelters, teaching Sunday School, and leading special education summer camps. Giving back felt like an essential part of who I was.
Now, after a tumultuous marriage and my husband’s departure, I find myself on the other side, relying on the kindness of others. Some days, I hardly recognize myself.
If I thought volunteering was challenging, being the one receiving help is an entirely different struggle. That uplifting feeling of making a difference evaporates when you’re in need. Today, I feel worthless, defeated, and ashamed for not being able to provide for my children—the two sets of brown eyes that look up to me with hope.
Standing in line at the food pantry is the best I can offer right now. Today, the most I can do is drag my kids from their warm beds just as the sun peeks over the horizon. The best I can do is show up and ask for help.
I used to be that volunteer, part of a team working to support others. Now, I’m just a mom trying to provide for my two little ones.
When we finally reach the front of the line, I’m relieved to find they still have diapers in stock. We gather our box of food, toiletries, and diapers, and slowly make our way to the car. As I buckle them into their seats, I can’t help but notice the joy on their little faces.
“Thanks, Mommy! Thanks for letting us have a sucker!”
They have no idea what I’ve sacrificed to get here, and it breaks my heart. I used to be a volunteer, and now I’m in need.
I’m unsure of what comes next or how we will move forward, but I know I need support to give back to those two precious sets of brown eyes looking at me with love.
As I gaze into their eyes, I realize volunteer work has taken on a new meaning. Volunteers are people who selflessly give to help others. Yes, my dear children, I will give everything I can to ensure your well-being. I will set aside my pride and do whatever it takes to care for you.
Perhaps I’m not so different after all.
If you’re on a journey of your own, consider checking out this resource for fertility tips. For couples navigating their own fertility journey, this guide can be invaluable. Additionally, March of Dimes offers excellent resources for pregnancy and home insemination.
In summary, life’s challenges can transform our roles from givers to receivers, forcing us to confront our vulnerabilities. However, through these experiences, we can find strength, resilience, and a renewed commitment to care for those we love.
Keyphrase: food pantry experience
Tags: [“home insemination kit” “home insemination syringe” “self insemination”]