They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but after hearing my story, you might only see one: redemption.
The moment I first held my son, Isiah, in my arms, I felt something I had never truly felt before—a deep, undeniable clarity. I knew in that instant that my life had to change.
I was twenty-five, divorced, and trapped in a cycle of brokenness and addiction. My journey into motherhood had started a decade earlier, and I already had three other children. I didn’t have custody of any of them. My boyfriend at the time wanted me to have an abortion, but I chose life. And when I made that choice, he made his—he walked away.
The moment Isiah was born, I sensed he could be taken from me. I was heartbroken over how much I had already let my child down, but I was also quietly grateful he had survived. I had used meth just before going into labor, received no prenatal care, and endured a labor full of complications. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually, I was in the worst place I had ever been. To say I had hit rock bottom would have been a grave understatement.
Yet, somehow, my story didn’t end there. It was only beginning.
That very day marked my last choice of drugs. I checked into rehab and embraced faith, finally letting something bigger than myself guide me. I committed to every parent visit, completed every class, and passed every drug test. I poured my heart and soul into reclaiming my life and my son—and just eight months later, through relentless effort, I reunited with him.
Today, my life looks very different. My marriage has been restored, I’m working on earning my GED, and I am slowly healing from years of unprocessed trauma. After twenty-two months of dedication and perseverance, all four of my children are finally back together in my care.
I owe so much to the foster mom who saw me when I couldn’t even see myself. She recognized my brokenness and offered me the love and support I thought I didn’t deserve. When every odds seemed stacked against me, she never gave up. She stood by my side and fought with me for my redemption. Because of her, I didn’t just survive—I began to truly live.
