A Moment in Time

By Kelly Cozzone

The love of a mother is timeless and unconditional. Alexa Wright realized this at the first flutter of the life inside her and lived it until her son became an adult. She faced joy, trials, unwanted change and devastating loss.

This heart-wrenching trip down memory lane will give you a look into the love of a mother and let you experience one woman’s journey towards understanding, coming to terms with obstacles life throws at you and moreover, redemption and forgiveness. This poignant tale is a must read for all women. WARNING!!!! Tissues are a necessity! 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kelly Cozzone
• Release date: Mar 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781540579812

Book preview

Prologue

"All that I am, or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother." – Abraham Lincoln

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My name is Alexa Wright, and I’m a happily married mother to three beautiful children. I have two amazing daughters, Amanda and Angela with my husband, Jay. I also have a son, Eric from a previous marriage. Out of everything I’ve ever done in my life, having children has been the most rewarding and the most challenging experience.  

Throughout my journey as a wife and mother, I have learned that life isn’t something you can predict. You can make plans and set goals, but there are never any guarantees things will work out the way you planned.

The trials and tribulations we are forced to face, as we undertake the reality of life are ones that have the potential to destroy us in ways we never imagined.

I lived through one of those life-altering challenges. It started the moment my son told me he wanted to live with his father. He was fourteen at the time and determined to do whatever it took to get what he wanted.

I’d be lying if I said that year with Eric didn’t come close to shattering me on every level because it did. I spent so much of my time lost in the fog of desperation and pain. A fog that had the ability to rip away everything that mattered to me

As heartbreaking as that year had been with losing my son, the years that would follow are what changed me forever. Most people would probably say that the change didn’t have a positive effect on my life.

I quickly became an expert on burying my emotions deeper than I had ever thought possible. It allowed me to build a wall around my heart. I was determined not to let anyone close enough to hurt me like that again.

I wish I had the confidence to say I handled the situation with Eric the right way. In certain ways I think I did, but sometimes, when I look closely, I can’t help but doubt my choices.

What I do know is during that time in my life I wasn’t the wife Jay deserved or the mother my daughters needed. I was emotionally detached, drained, and damaged. It took so much energy to keep myself from falling apart that I didn’t have any emotions left over for them.

I had been forced to make decisions that affected not only Eric, but my entire family. Despite the best of my intentions and abilities, his life became difficult and full of contention. He had to face situations I wish he could’ve avoided.

Were those situations my fault? I believe, in a way, they were. I wasn’t sure that I had made the right decisions. The what if game we all play seriously screwed with my head.

If I’m being honest, I can’t swallow all the blame as there’s plenty to go around with some of it being Eric and his father’s fault. I had dealt with the toughest choices of my life. I’d struggled for weeks, weighing the pros and cons of each single option that only I could resolve. I’d tried considering every consequence that could occur with each decision I had to make. Eventually and to my detriment, it became abundantly clear what I needed to do for Eric. Though I didn’t think I’d ever have the courage to go through with it.

I had fought hard to find the inner strength that I needed to put aside what was best for me in order to do what I thought was right for Eric. Above all, that particular moment had been painstaking.

How anyone could expect a mother to separate her wants and needs from her son’s? I’d felt like I had to cut myself in half in order to make it happen. As his mother, my heart was tied to his. Hurting him would hurt me, and yet making him happy would destroy me.

There were many decisions I’d made during that difficult time I deeply regret. After all these years, I can finally admit that it had been my own arrogance that made me think I could spare him from some of the pain and sufferings he had to experience.

Could it be true?

Could I have altered his future and prevented the strife he’d face? Probably not, but as a mom, I can’t help but believe I would have succeeded where his father had failed.

At my lowest point, it was Jay and my daughters who had saved me. They gave me the strength to keep going, filling me with love when I thought all was lost. Jay had been my rock from the day I’d met him. When I felt hopeless and didn’t think I could go on, he made me lean on him. It was something I had never done, but I desperately needed to learn how to do.

Having to depend on someone wasn’t a trait that came naturally to me. Jay had always made me feel that as long as I had him by my side, there wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.

Eric is an adult now and doing so much better than I could have imagined. His late teenage years should have derailed him as an adult, but they didn’t. He had faced everything with a maturity I hadn’t realized he had. He’d been forced to experience life lessons that mothers pray their children never have to learn. Yet, he had taken everything that was thrown at him and, in the end, came out on top.

I have a strong, loving relationship with my son now. During his teen years, this hadn’t been the case. I believe, at times, he hated me, or at the very least blamed me for everything that went wrong in his life.

Had I made the right decisions for his life? I don’t know if I did or didn’t. All I do know is that every single decision I had made was done with Eric’s best interests at heart. With every decision I had faced, I’d considered the ramifications to him. I had to think long and hard to try to figure out what was best for him. I had made those choices, knowing they weren’t the right decision for me. I had known they went against my own desires. They were the exact opposite of, what the mother in me, needed to survive.

This is my story. This was my life. Good, bad, and ugly. I did the absolute best I could at the time. I want to share my journey with you. From one parent to another, I need to share the ups and downs of my trek as a mother. My hope is that the emotional devastation that had plagued my life for a while will help someone else. If I can help one mother understand she isn’t alone, then it will all have been worth it.

I’ll warn you now, that during our walk down memory lane, I’ll make you laugh and I’ll make you cry. I’ll bare my heart, soul, and all the pain and insecurities that come with motherhood. In the end, though, I’ll make you thankful for your own children.

Chapter One

Motherhood: All love begins and ends there. – Robert Browning

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My journey starts when I was a young, eighteen-year-old girl, in a small town in West Virginia. I grew up in the Ohio Valley, surrounded by mountains.

Fall was my favorite time of year when the trees would be full of the gorgeous reds, oranges, and golds. It was a time when kids could play in the neighborhood without fear, and no one locked their doors.

As a child, I had a big family, and every holiday was a big deal. Those family get-togethers would have sixty plus people at them. The celebrations were full of love and laughter. Having such a large family gave me a big support system, one I would desperately need as I transitioned into adulthood.

It was my senior year and I was only a few months away from graduation. Like all kids, I had all these plans and goals I wanted to accomplish, and anxiously awaited the time when I could go off to college. My life was heading in the direction I dreamed of and I couldn’t be more excited to begin my next adventure.

My large group of friends knew exactly how we were going to spend our first summer as young adults. There would be days spent on the lake, evenings around the bonfire, and long road-trips to the beach. We were going to spend every moment enjoying the last visages of being carefree teenagers before we had to set out on our own. All we had left to survive was prom and graduation. Then our summer of fun would officially kick off with a bang.

At the end of summer, I was headed to college but hadn’t yet decided on what career I wanted to pursue. I knew I wanted to go into the medical field, but had no idea in what capacity. I kept going back and forth between being a doctor and a nurse.

My grand plans for life suddenly derailed about a month prior to prom. As much as I wanted to take part in all of the senior year festivities, I was sidelined, sick as a dog with the worst stomach virus. Or so I thought.

Food became something I avoided at all costs. The smell of it cooking sent me into hours of vomiting. The slightest movement I made caused unbelievable nausea. I’d recently recovered from a severe case of pneumonia, and had thought my stomach issues were a result of that, and all the medications I had taken. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

One afternoon when I was finally able to function without vomiting, my best friend, Diana, and I were hanging out after a long afternoon on the lake. We’d grabbed some burgers and fries on our way home. We ate as we relaxed in my room. The first bite sent me running for the bathroom.

After I puked for the third time, Diana jokingly said, maybe you’re pregnant.

At first, I laughed at the preposterous idea, never believing pregnancy could even be a remote possibility. I tried to remember when I had my last period. I felt the blood drain from my face when I realized I hadn’t had a period since January. I began counting only to arrive at the stunning conclusion that I’d missed not just one, but two menstrual cycles. I was a long-distance runner so it wasn’t unusual for me to skip periods. As a result, I didn’t take the time to track my periods as I should.

Panic quickly set in when I started thinking about all the other symptoms I’d been experiencing. My heart pounded. My palms began sweating as the mantra that there wasn’t any way in the world I could be pregnant played over and over in my head.

I had too much going on to have a baby. I had my life all mapped out. A family and a baby weren’t in that picture, at least not for a long time. I was determined to live my life for me, and experience all it had to offer before I settled down.

Diana and I ran to the store and grabbed a bunch of pregnancy tests. As I peed on the first test, I attempted to convince myself that I’d panicked for nothing. Five minutes later, two little lines appeared on the stick.

My heart dropped, as I prayed it was a mistake. This couldn’t be happening to me. Thirty minutes and ten pregnancy tests later, I could no longer deny the truth that was staring me in the face. I was indeed pregnant.

I sat down on the bed, dazed and confused. The life I’d envisioned disappeared