The Moth Radio Hour: Clean Breaks

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This is the Moth Radio Hour.

I'm Sarah Austin-Janes.

You've heard the term clean break.

It's a full and complete separation from a relationship, a situation, or even a bone.

If the ending is clean and absolute, it's supposed to be a good thing.

The idea is that it will heal better.

You'll You'll move on sooner.

There's no residue.

In my life, clean breaks have been rare, and I'll tell you more about that later.

But we did manage to find five stories today from Texas to the Kenyan countryside that explore this idea from different angles.

Our first story sets the stage for healthy endings done right.

Teresa Wiggins told this at an open mic moth story slam in Boston, where we partner with public radio station WBUR.

Here's Teresa.

I was in sixth grade and about 22 hours into a relationship with Joey Nichols when I realized that our values would no longer align.

Joey was this tall, sort of goofy, loud kid who everybody loved, and he was so kind to everybody.

And I was shy and anxious, and I really wanted to fit in and mostly wanted to be a good girl.

But I knew Joey liked me because he talked to me in gym class.

He was like, hey, Teresa, what's up?

And I was like, nothing.

So things were in motion.

And

he sent word to his friends, who sent word to my friends, who sent word to me that he wanted to go out with me.

My friends pressed me.

They were like, do you like him or do you like like him?

And I was like, I think I might like, like him.

So we sent word back.

And the next thing I knew, he's in front of me in the hallway.

My girlfriends are in this like semicircle behind me and he's like Teresa will you go out with me and I was like okay

it was exhilarating I was somebody's girlfriend and that exhilaration lasted for 1.7 seconds because exactly after that I felt an intense urge to dry heave because I was somebody's girlfriend and did I have to talk to him

so the duration of this relationship, I waffled between exhilaration and nausea, which brings me to the 22nd and final hour of this partnership.

And I was in sweet Miss Kaposhkin's art class and she is at the chalk board.

Yes, chalk.

And

she was teaching a room full of sixth graders about perspective line drawing and I'm on one side of the room and Joey's on the other side of the room and my eyes are on the board.

Suddenly there's a loud noise from where Joey's sitting and everyone turns and looks and he is cracking up with his friend,

and it disrupts class.

She gets it back under control, but it happens again, and it happens again.

And that's when I know I have this feeling in my gut that this is not a partnership that can stand the test of time.

So I rip out a piece of notebook paper, and I write him a note, and I said, Hey, Joey, what's up?

I'm sorry, but we need to break up.

And I fold it up and I send it across the room.

And he unfolds it and he looks over at me with the saddest eyes.

And he writes back and when it reaches me, I read it and says two words and he says, but why?

So I write him back, super honest, and I said, because you fool around too much in class.

Fold it back up, send it.

He reads it.

He writes back and he says,

I'm sorry.

I can change.

Dot, dot, dot, for you.

And this wave of knowledge runs through my body, and I know so clearly what I need to communicate to him.

And I write, Joey, no, in all caps, with like seven exclamation points, and then I write, never change for anyone.

And I underline that like three times.

And I said, You just be you.

And I send it back across the room, and he reads it, and he looks up and he gives me this gentle smile, and I smile back.

And to this day, it is the cleanest, most mature breakup I have ever had.

That was Teresa Wiggins.

Teresa is the co-founder of Redwood Speaking, where she helps people shape their own stories.

But she says her most prized roles are as wife to her husband Frank and mother to her three teenagers.

To see a photo of Teresa from the year in elementary school that she had this clean break, go to our Radio Extras page at themoth.org.

Our next story comes from Adele Onyango.

We met Adele through our global storytelling workshops.

She's hosted many moth shows for us in Nairobi, Kenya.

But this time, she came to New York to join us at our annual main stage with Greenwood Cemetery and share this story outside on stage as the sun was setting.

Live at the moth, here's Adele Onyango.

It's Christmas Eve in my home in Nairobi, Kenya, and something strange is happening.

Mommy's in the kitchen cooking.

I watch her open the oven and garnish the chicken with rosemary in shock because all year round this is the only time she gets into the kitchen.

It's part of our Christmas tradition that involves overeating and over-decorated Christmas trees.

I still remember mommy, my sisters and I sitting around the table full of food, cackling, opening gifts.

This tradition felt good.

It felt like home.

After mommy died, my sisters and I desperately tried to keep the tradition going.

We would buy gifts, over-decorate the Christmas tree, and have tons of food, including chicken, rosemary chicken.

But no matter how hard we tried, it never felt right without her.

I had to hold on to these traditions because I couldn't face the pain of mommy's death.

So I kept the traditions going and seven years later, added another tradition.

I got married.

I married a man from a completely different culture, and I remember on our third date laying down my deal breakers.

Listen.

All Christmases are going to be spent with my family, and if you don't like it, leave now.

I was very outspoken, I had loud feminist takes and I was a media personality well known for speaking out and speaking my mind.

Nothing traditional about me.

We started our life and come Christmas, I'd have the gifts ready by October, decorations up by November, but there was one flaw in my plan.

our apartment.

I hated it.

I'd drive home from work and turn onto the pothole-riddled road and I'd just regret living there.

I'd park my car, climb up the staircase to our unit and it had these dark, dirty grey walls and I'd just get enraged and whenever I'd walk into our apartment, it never felt like home.

Our first Christmas was wonderful, our second one too, but by the third

It wasn't just our apartment that didn't feel like home, but also my marriage.

It was becoming very clear that the wife my husband wanted was nothing like me.

And I remember one night we were in bed after one of our many arguments and he said, you've refused to give me the three things that make a marriage.

You don't want to give me a child, you wouldn't take my surname and you've stopped wearing your ring.

I remember feeling like, well, he's right.

I'm definitely not that traditional woman.

But I was so exhausted and all I could whisper was, I can't do this anymore.

I can't do us anymore.

My marriage was over.

And the divorce wasn't those amicable ones that you see in the movies.

Mine was drenched in drama, with family calling and saying, well, if he didn't hit you, why are you leaving?

And I remember another family member saying, you will never find another man more devoted to you than your husband.

It was the hardest time.

I wasn't sleeping.

I'd stopped eating much, so I lost so much weight and I looked so frail.

And because of my work that involves small talk, smiles, performances, being in front of crowds, I was losing energy.

And the little that I had needed to take me through my therapy sessions and meetings with lawyers.

I had never lived alone.

I went from living with mommy and my sisters to just my sisters after mommy died to my partner after we got married and so this new chapter was exciting but I was also quite anxious.

So I began looking for an apartment and my only

requirement was I needed a garden.

And my best friend took me for all my visits.

But nobody prepares you for just how hard it is to find a home.

I remember the first unit we saw had ceilings so low, I felt like a giant in a hobbit's house.

There was another unit that had one natural light source for the entire house.

And there was another unit that our agent took me to,

and it had numerous bedrooms, about five.

And when I reminded the agent that, hey, it's only going to be me living here, he said, well, no worries.

When you have kids, you have space.

And I kept wondering, why does everybody want me to be this traditional woman, even this stranger?

The last unit that we viewed in Nairobi was an apartment that had this strange staircase where each stair was a different size.

And as we hobbled back down the strange staircase to the car, I said, maybe I'm not meant to live in Nairobi.

And I immediately thought of a place I'd go to whenever I'd get so stressed in my marriage.

It's a little town out of Nairobi called Limuru.

It's known for its tea farms and its

flower farms as well.

So all its hills are full of thick green carpets of tea and these little greenhouses full of flowers.

And I'd always drive there and get calm and dream about living there.

So in this moment I thought I want to live in Limuru.

So on Thursday morning I had two options.

Either see another apartment in the same neighborhood with the strange staircase or take the nature riddle drive out to Limuru.

I chose the latter.

And so I got into my car and my fear was increasing as I kept looking down at my GPS and seeing just how far this place is.

And then I got to a point where I went up a hill and in front of me were these acres of green tea.

And in my rearview mirror, I could see the skyline of Nairobi behind me.

And in that moment, I danced between, this is so beautiful, to, this is a terrible idea, to I can't wait to take walks in the tea farms, to, this place is really far.

And then I went up another hill to the house and it was love at first sight.

We walked into the front room, it had a front room, through this charming half wooden door that is terrible for security but just so beautiful for aesthetics.

And then we walked into the living room that had these beautiful wooden floors and this big fireplace just like my childhood home.

And we walked into the kitchen.

Now, as someone who doesn't cook, I immediately thought of changing my ways because it was so spacious.

And then we went to my favorite part of the house, the main bedroom my bedroom it had the same wooden floors and old white windows positioned just right so that the sunrise would meet you at the foot of your bed and its bathroom was bigger than the bedroom i had in my apartment in nairobi and the compound The house is sandwiched between two tea farms.

It's got yards of garden space.

It's got a flower garden.

It's got a kitchen garden and at the back this huge avocado tree.

I loved the house immediately, but what really sold me was as I was walking through this house with complete strangers,

because my best friend didn't come with me to Lemuru on that day.

No family members.

No loving husband, as I thought my happily ever after would be like.

I still felt at home.

It's like all the fear and the loneliness had vanished, like we had left them at the wooden door.

And so I began my move to Limuru.

And the morning the movers arrived at the apartment, I was so happy.

I couldn't believe that.

These were my last few minutes in this horrible house.

And I walked through each empty room, releasing any hopes I had for this home, releasing any hopes I had for my marriage.

And then I took my very many plants as a plant mom, put put them in my car, and drove right out, leading the huge moving truck to Limuru.

When we got there, as the movers were packing my stuff in my new home, one of them asked, Kwani waishi ha papeke ako kama mo namke?

Which means you're going to live in this house alone as a woman.

And I told him, yeah, why not?

Putting on a brave face, but inside I was terrified.

I was a divorced African woman in her 30s living in a new town in a new house all alone.

My number one fear was collapsing in this house and not being discovered for three days and so I gave a set of my keys to my best friend for safety.

But as I settled down into my new house, one thing was scaring me, Christmas.

I was panicking because I knew I needed to find a new tradition.

So October came around

and I hadn't bought gifts.

November came around and no decorations were up.

Then December came and I felt like closing my eyes and just opening them up and finding myself on 31st.

And on Christmas week, I was driving back home.

I parked my car and I got to my charming wooden door and something hit the top of my head.

And I looked up and it was a Christmas wreath.

And I thought, do I have a stalker?

And then I opened the door and walked into the front room.

And there was an over-decorated Christmas tree and even more decorations in a bag, including three stockings.

And I thought, what a thoughtful stalker.

It turns out it was my best friend who had orchestrated this surprise.

And I called him and I was tearing up and I was so happy and for the next hour I showed him how I was decorating my house and I was nailing the stockings to the fireplace using high heels because I didn't have a hammer.

It felt so good like Christmas had come full circle

and on Christmas morning I woke up to the sunrise at the foot of my bed to the sounds of the birds chirping.

And I went to the kitchen and I started to make chicken.

Not rosemary chicken, but honey glazed chicken, which is my favorite.

And then later that day, I was putting the food onto the table as I was waiting for my best friend to arrive.

My favorite artist Hugh Masakella was playing in the background, and I felt an overwhelming feeling of happiness, of joy, of peace, of calm.

And then it hit me, That's what I loved about mommy's traditions, the feelings.

It didn't matter that I was divorced.

it didn't matter that I didn't have kids.

What mattered was the feelings.

That was the best Christmas I had since mommy died.

And I think it's because I finally felt at home.

I finally had my own tradition.

Thank you.

That was Adele Onyango.

Adele is still loving living in Lemuru.

She started farming and she's planted rosemary bushes in her backyard to remember her mom.

She's been recognized as one of the top 50 women in Africa by African policy, BBC's 100 women, and top 100 Kenyans.

Adele's move was definitely a break from tradition.

She says, quote, divorce in Kenya is still not seen as normal.

A woman living alone, especially in the rural context, is quite rare.

You can see photos of Adele in her backyard farm in Lemuru, happy as can be, at themoth.org.

In just a moment, two stories of physical breaks, but don't worry, they're the funny kind.

When the Moth Radio Hour continues.

The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts.

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This is the Moth Radio Hour.

I'm Sarah Austin-Janess, and this episode features endings, the good kind.

Our next story is from Eric Heen in Houston, Texas.

He told it on stage at an open mic story slam where we partner with Houston Public Media.

Here's Eric live at the Moth.

When I was a little kid, I had this elderly great aunt, and we all called her Babushka.

And I hated going to Babushka's house because she made me work in her garden, and my only reward would be an orange crush.

One day my mom dropped me off there, and Babushka dragged me to the garden.

But I had recently learned of this special maneuver where you could stick your finger down your throat and with the end result you could often get out of your obligations.

So I crept down there between the corn stalks and I performed this maneuver.

I said, Babushka, come here.

So look at this.

And Babushka comes and she looks and it worked.

She said, oh my.

She brings me into the house.

tells me to lay down on the couch.

She goes out to work in the garden and I run to the fridge for an orange crush.

Well, I couldn't find a bottle opener, but I'd recalled watching my uncle.

He could take a solid object and pry it over his finger and pop open a beer bottle that way.

So I looked around and I saw on the shelf there, there's this row of little statues.

I picked one up and I looked, and I read at the base there, it said Saint Joseph of Corpetino.

So he looked pretty sturdy

at the time.

I sat down in a dining room chair and I propped his feet up against the bottle and I cranked down really hard, but the bottle cap came off easier than I thought.

The statue slammed down on the armrest, it broke the guy's head off, it went rolling to the floor.

So I'm looking at this severed head.

I'm pretty sure I'm going to hell over this

because not only have I beheaded a saint, but I had done so while trying to access stolen merchandise.

So I picked him up.

There was chunks broken off his head, part of his cheekbone, his beard.

So I went to look for some glue.

I found some in a little glass bottle.

I thought it was glue, but I was using it.

It didn't have good adhesive qualities.

I think it might have been nail polish.

So when I got done, looked at the guy, looked I'd had the crap beat out him.

He had these big chunks were slipping and sliding on his head.

He looked like a Picasso painting.

So

I nestled him into the back row of statues and I went back to the garden.

I never worked so hard in my life.

That afternoon, my mom picked me up.

She brought me home.

I said, Mom, I said,

you know, just

for an example, if someone were to say,

damage a religious artifact,

would the wrath of God fall upon the person who damaged the artifact or on the person who owned the artifact?

My mom said, how should I know we're Lutherans?

So I went to my friend Vince's house.

Now Vince was a Catholic.

I was allowed one Catholic friend, and it was Dad.

I told Vince what I had done.

He said, dude, St.

Joseph is Jesus' dad.

I said, wait a minute, Vince.

I said, God is Jesus' dad.

He He said no.

Vince says, no.

He said, St.

Joseph is the earthly dad, the guide at the manger.

So I go home.

I'm freaking out now.

I just disfigured Jesus' dad.

I couldn't sleep that night.

Couldn't sleep for weeks.

I had this nightmare.

about this special place in hell reserved for kids who decapitate holy figurines.

But then the weeks went by and nothing really bad happened.

And the weeks turned to months and everything was okay.

Then it was a year.

There's no great apocalypse.

Ultimately, Babushka lived a long and happy life and I forgot all about this St.

Joseph issue

until

Years later, I was in college.

I was doing this paper on the Catholic Church Church of medieval times.

And I'm doing some research.

There in the book, there's a list of saints.

And there's St.

Joseph.

And there's St.

Joseph of Corpetino.

Two Josephs.

Opened up a whole new can of worms.

All those years, I thought I'd beheaded the regular St.

Joseph, but it was the Corpetino guy.

So I read about him.

He said, Saint Joseph of Corpetino is the patron saint who ensures that his followers at the end of their life will experience a peaceful death.

I called my mother.

I said, Mom,

how did Babushka die?

She said,

peacefully in her sleep.

Now the way I see this thing, this could go either way.

But if I might be destined for an agonizing death, then shouldn't it be for something a bit more significant than an orange crush?

That was Eric Keene.

Eric is a retired federal investigator living in Houston, Texas.

He now spends his time organic farming, beekeeping, and writing stories.

As for me, I've almost never had a clean break.

I think this is why I love these stories.

How do people do it?

I've never broken a bone, knockwood.

My parents divorced and then remarried each other.

Come on!

I grew up always thinking, maybe the story isn't done yet.

Maybe the story will have another chapter sometime in the future.

Who knows?

I like the idea of a clean break.

It seems evolved.

So in that spirit, here's our next story.

Courtney J.

Renee took the stage looking fabulous in a black velvet jumpsuit with rhinestones for a moth main stage called Only in New York.

The special night was a collaboration with radio partners WNYC to celebrate their centennial.

Here's Courtney J.

Renee live at the moth.

So, as you can tell, I'm a city girl

and I embody everything that that means.

I'm beautiful, stylish, charming, and outside.

I'm a party girl.

I love a good time.

I love a good vibe.

I bring the good vibes.

So, one Friday afternoon, I'm home, surprisingly, and

my best friend, she phones to me and she's like, with hype and excitement in her voice.

And she's like, there's this party at this new lounge in Queens and this guy, Malcolm, that I was crushing on, she's like, he's hosting the party.

We should go.

So let me give some backstory of my bestie.

So she's your two peas in the pod.

She's like the hype to my vibe.

So it's like, you know, she's the perfect hype woman yelling, A,

encouraging all of my shenanigans.

So

she's like, we should go.

It would be perfect for you to get FaceTime with Malcolm.

So I'm like, you know, FaceTime wouldn't be bad.

You know, finding eligible bachelors in New York City is a struggle.

So I'm like, okay.

So she's like, we should go.

I'm like, okay, let's go.

So she's like, okay, hurry up and get ready.

I'll be to you in an hour.

So I'm like, an hour?

You know, like I said, I'm a city girl.

It takes time and effort to get this cute.

You just can't, you know, throw it together in an hour.

But, you know, she put the you gonna go see your man energy in me.

So I'm like, okay,

I'll get it together in an hour.

So we hang up.

I hop in the shower.

I take the quickest shower ever.

I get out the shower and I'm like, oh, I forgot my towel.

Great.

But lucky for me, I'm home alone.

So I'm like, oh, I'll just do an A1 down the hall to my room, finish getting ready.

So I start darting down the hallway and then, boom, I fall.

I'm on my back, legs straight in the air.

I look like a Thanksgiving turkey.

So I'm like, okay, girl, get it together.

You don't got time for this.

We got to hurry up and get ready.

So I try to get up and I can't.

So I'm like, hmm, now confusion is setting in.

I'm like, what's going on?

So I try to get up again and I can't.

And I'm like, oh no, I've fallen and I can't get up.

So I'm like, what's going on?

So I'm looking, I look down and I see it.

My right ankle is hanging to the left.

I know.

Resembling nothing that belongs, like looks like it belongs on a human body.

So I'm like, oh my gosh, I gotta call my bestie and tell her I need more time to get ready for the party.

So luckily for me, I'm the part of the generation.

We don't go anywhere without our phone.

So I have my phone.

So I call my best friend and I'm like,

I fell

and my ankle, I don't know, I think it's broken, but I need more time to get ready for the party.

So she's like, what?

I'm like, I fell.

I can't get up.

And my ankle, I don't know, it's like, it's broken, but I need more time to get ready for the party.

And she's like, bro, your ankle is broken.

You have to go to the hospital.

And I'm like, oh, and then it hits me.

I'm in the middle of a medical emergency.

I'm like, oh my gosh, I got to call 911.

So we get off the phone, I call 911.

I'm talking to the sweetest operator.

She's keeping me calm, asking me all the basic information, reassuring me everything's gonna be okay.

She lets me know.

She's dispatched first responders.

I'm like, okay, great.

Then she asks me a pivotal question.

She's like, are you able to open the door for first responders?

If not, they're gonna have to break it down.

So I'm like, hmm.

I'm like, okay.

I'm like, uh, yeah, yeah, I'll open the door.

Don't worry, I'll open the door.

She's like, okay.

So we get off the phone.

Now I'm in the hallway, wet,

naked,

and at a crossroads.

So at this point in my life, I'm a broke college student.

I don't have rehing a door money.

So

I'm like, I could either scooch this way up the hallway to my room and get clothes, or I could scooch this this way to the door and open it naked

so I got to choose between my dignity and my finances

and

like a capitalist American

I chose my finances

so I scooch to the door And I wait.

I hear two knocks on the door and I open the door

and in first responders fashion it's the firemen

and these are the beautifulest six

firemen you've ever seen in your life.

They look like they work out 25-8.

Okay?

So they come in,

they surround me.

One hand on the boobs,

head down.

Before they could say a word, I'm like, please, go to the room and get anything for me to put on.

So one of them goes to the room, he gets something, he comes back, he's like, this.

This man has found the raggediest dress

that I own.

Do you know the dress you fry chicken in?

Yes, that one

so he's like this so I'm like beggars can't be choosers I'm like okay

so I put the dress on so now they're doing basic asking me basic information how did I fall getting all my information letting me know everything's gonna be okay they're gonna get me out of here so they lift me up They put me in the wheelchair and they're like, okay, they lift up my leg and then heat just rushes down and I'm in excruciating pain I'm screaming they're like it's okay calm down I'm gonna get you comfortable so then one of the firefighters he's like well we're hurt more opening the door naked or your leg and I'm like the door for sure the door for sure

so they get me in a comfortable position and we're ready to go and they're like um are you ready do you have everything I'm like well I have my phone so good to go So we're about to leave and I'm like, wait,

I'm sorry.

I don't have my wig.

And they're like, really?

And I'm like, listen, ankle twisted, raggedy dress, at least my hair could be on point.

So they get the wig, and

the hair was on point, but it's safe to say I didn't make it to the party that day, but I did go to the hospital maintaining my city girl essence.

Thank you.

That was Courtney J.

Rene.

And yes, her ankle was broken, a clean break, and she's all healed now.

Courtney is a native of Queens, New York.

She came to the mall through a workshop with our education department at City College.

Courtney told us:

I now work with young people in social justice, and I live, love, laugh, and learn.

Remember how I told you that I don't really have clean breaks?

Well, I loved Courtney's story because I dated a firefighter for a while.

He used to pick me up in the air and do squats while holding me, like every time we met.

I gave him a big moth sweatshirt and he wore it everywhere.

He'd always get stopped by listeners who wanted to talk about this show.

He was younger than I, and I was fully enamored.

But at some point, after a lot of on-again, off-again, we drifted apart.

You know, he had to fight fires, and I had to encourage people to tell personal stories.

Both essential jobs, if you ask me.

After I heard Courtney's story, I texted him.

I thought maybe he was one of the firefighters she mentioned.

But no, he joined the FDNY years after the story takes place.

He said, most people who see first responders are so shaken, they just want a hug.

Here's the thing about dating firefighters: it is my firm belief that everyone should do it at some point in their lives.

Everyone should.

But when the sirens blare and the trucks go by in the big city, which is all the time, it's nearly impossible not to think of them.

So much for clean breaks.

After this break, a woman is determined to be victorious over a contagious disease when the Moth Radio Hour continues.

The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts.

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You're listening to the Moth Radio Hour.

I'm Sarah Austin-Janes.

Safya Ibrahim is our final storyteller in this hour.

From time to time, we produce custom storytelling shows that dive deep into a theme to humanize an issue that may feel foreign to some.

Safia Ibrahim told this story on stage at one of those private events during the UN General Assembly for a night that drew attention to polio.

She told it in front of ambassadors and change makers in hopes that personal stories may help us come together to eradicate this disease.

With that, here's Safia live at the mall.

I remember when I was six years old, I would wake up every morning and crawl out of bed and go to the bathroom to comb my hair and brush my teeth.

I would then crawl to the front steps of my grandmother's house and watch my peers as they walk to school with a thermos in hand and a backpack on their backs.

I wanted to go to school too,

but I contracted polio at the age of one and I was left out of school.

One day I saw two girls playing a childhood game of hopscotch.

I wanted to play.

So I crawled up to them and said, may I please join you?

One of them looked at me with a laugh and said,

how are you going to hop when you cannot even stand?

Not even knowing what I was doing, I immediately grabbed that girl by the leg and dragged her down to my level.

Next thing I knew,

I was pulling punches while another girl was pulling my hair.

Luckily, my aunt was visiting and she saw what was happening and plucked me out of the dust and threw me over her shoulder.

She took me back to my grandmother's house and my brother, my grandmother, when she opened the door, she said, what does she do now?

Because back then I was known as a rubble.

That was the day my grandmother decided that I was going to have to learn to walk if I was going to continue fighting with other children.

Using the wall and furniture and with my grandmother's reassurance and confidence in me, I myself gained confidence in my new ability.

But walking also came with falling, with new challenges, and that included falling.

Every time I stood up, I fell down, but then I got back up again.

Then I stood up, then I fell back down again.

Eventually,

my legs were strong enough for me to walk to the corner store to fetch oil and rice for my grandmother, just like the other children in my neighborhood did for their parents.

Two years later, the civil war in Somalia broke out.

and my family and I immigrated to Canada.

For the first time, I was able to see a doctor about my diagnosis and he gave me two braces that reached up to my thighs and crutches for support.

Most importantly, this is the time when I started going to school as well.

This is the time I first felt ordinary because that's all I wanted to be growing up.

I graduated from elementary school, graduated from high school, and I even went to college.

I was starting to feel

ordinary once more.

At that point, I decided the next thing to do would be to get married.

I fell in love and got married, and I got pregnant.

I went to go see my doctor, and she told me to be careful.

because I was high risk.

A couple months later, as I was coming home from work, driving my car, I went down to the garage.

I parked my car and I walked to the elevator.

As I was walking,

the crutches I was given for support

slid and I fell front forward onto the cold cement floor.

I was 27 weeks and five days pregnant.

I felt sharp, strong pain travel down my stomach, to my pelvis, and to my back.

But what was more concerning to me was I didn't know how I was going to get back up.

Using my crutches once more, I was able to stand up, went into the elevator, got to my apartment, took a shower, and went to bed.

The next morning,

I woke up with crabs,

very strong doll crabs.

I immediately called my doctor and she told me to go to the emergency room.

I went to the emergency room, but then I was sent to the labor and delivery ward.

They did an x-ray.

And I sat in a room waiting for the doctor to come.

I waited and and waited and waited.

Eventually he showed up with his head down looking at the ground.

He said, Safia, unfortunately, we were not able to detect a viable heartbeat.

You will need to be induced today.

I was in disbelief.

I mean, just last week, my friends threw me a baby shower

and they gave me bottles, baby blankets, and a nursing pillow.

I was looking forward to raising my son, playing with my son, even vaccinating my son so he could have an ordinary life,

just as I imagined it to be.

The next day I went home.

I cried.

I was angry.

How could Polio

come back and take something that

was precious to me?

Just like that.

Because my whole life I have been fighting polio and I have been beating polio, but this time it felt like polio got me.

But then I realized

I'm not the type of person

that

focuses on what-ifs.

I'm the type of person that focuses on what could be.

I decided that I could get pregnant again and I will have another child.

Within months, I was pregnant, this time with a baby girl.

I took every precaution possible.

I went on early maternity leave.

I stayed home in the winter months and waited for my daughter to come into the world.

In the summer of 2008, my daughter introduced herself to the world with the loudest cry I have ever heard in my life.

A couple years after that, I, two years after that, I had another daughter, then a son.

Now I'm a mother of three.

Just recently, I was at the store with my son at the cash register and

I fell, actually.

I fell down and I said really loudly, wait, it's okay.

I'm fine.

I always fall, but then I get back up.

And my son looked back and I said, hey, don't you think I'm getting the hang of this?

I'm okay.

I don't think I fall as much as I used to anymore.

My son looked at me with a mischievous smile and he said, mom,

you just fell in January, February, March, April.

But then I realized

polio doesn't really affect our family because we're just used to me falling.

And I was like, okay, so this is our ordinary.

And then I realized because at that point that I defeated Polio and I wasn't just ordinary like I hoped to be but I was extraordinary.

Thank you.

That was Safia Ibrahim.

In addition to her advocacy work to eradicate polio, Safia promotes health education and supports people living with disabilities.

She's a graduate of the Moth Global Community Program and she lives in Ottawa, Canada with her young family.

To see photos of Safia and her three beautiful children taken on Eid of last year, go to themoth.org.

Moth stories come from everyone.

Carpenters, scientists, teachers, inventors, voodoo priestesses, really everyone.

Consider telling your story at the Moth.

We want to hear from you.

Find Find an open mic, Moth Slam, through our website, themoth.org, and please share this episode with a friend you think would love The Moth and these stories.

You can find us on social media too.

We're on Facebook at the Moth and on Instagram at MothStories.

That's it for this episode of The Moth Radio Hour.

We hope you'll join us next time.

This episode of The Moth Radio Hour was produced by me, Jay Allison, and Sarah Austin Janes, who also hosted and directed the stories in the show with additional coaching from Julian Goldhagen and Chas Bruce in the Moths Education Department.

Co-producer is Vicki Merrick, associate producer Emily Couch.

The rest of the Moths leadership team includes Sarah Haberman, Christina Norman, Jennifer Hickson, Kate Tellers Marina Cluche, Suzanne Rust, Sarah Jane Johnson, and Patricia Urenia.

Moth stories are true as remembered and affirmed by the storytellers.

Our theme music is By the Drift.

Other music in this hour from Deluxe, Vincent Peorani, Emile Perizien, Hugh Masikala, Wolfpeck, Ramsey Lewis Trio, and Me and My Friends.

The Moth would like to thank the Gates Foundation for their support of the Moth's Global Community Program.

We receive funding from the National Endowment for the Arts.

The Moth Radio Hour is produced by Atlantic Public Media in Woods Hole, Massachusetts.

Special thanks to our friends at Odyssey, including executive producer Leah Rhys-Dennis.

For more about our podcast, for information on pitching us, your own story, and to learn all about the Moth, go to our website, themoth.org.

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