My 15-year-old daughter kept complaining about nausea and severe stomach pain. My husband brushed it off and said, “she’s just faking it. Don’t waste time or money.” So I secretly took her to the hospital myself. The doctor stared at the scan and whispered, “there’s something inside her…” All I could do was scream.

She kept her sweatshirt hood pulled over her head even inside the house, and whenever we spoke, she rarely looked me in the eyes. If anyone asked how she felt, she simply shrugged as if it didn’t matter.

But it mattered to me.

Every little change in her behavior lodged itself inside my chest like a splinter I couldn’t remove. My husband, Robert, had a much simpler explanation for everything and completely ignored my growing fear..…continue reading…