after he was sentenced.....

 Soon after he was sentenced to three years of community corrections, everything in my world shifted. I found myself a single mother, raising his two children on my own. One was just starting high school as a freshman, and the other had only recently turned one. Life was challenging, but ironically, we were managing better than we had in years — mostly because he was no longer in the picture day-to-day. Being in jail in Greeley, Colorado, he finally needed me in a way he hadn’t before. And for once, I was the one in control.

Then, in August of 2023, my grandmother passed away. I packed up both kids and made the trip back home to Nebraska, a place that still felt like home even through all the changes. Midway through that emotional week, I noticed I was late. I casually mentioned it to my sister. We laughed nervously and drove to Dollar General, where we grabbed a three-pack of pregnancy tests.

I took the first one as soon as we got back. Within seconds, it turned positive. I stared at it in disbelief — not fear, not joy, just complete shock. I immediately took the other two tests. Positive. Positive. No ambiguity. No question. I was pregnant.

My sister was the first person I told. That night, I accepted another collect call and told Ruby’s father. I don’t remember being scared — not at first. I was nervous, yes, but also quietly excited. I had already committed myself to this family. I had taken in both of his children and was doing everything I could to give them stability. And now, here I was, carrying another child. A symbol of hope, of new beginnings, of the family we had been dreaming of. I promised him I’d wait for him, and at the time, I believed that with all my heart. I still held onto the idea that we would be a family — whole, healed, and together.

After telling my older kids and sharing the news with our families, the baby was welcomed with open arms. This unexpected little life quickly became the greatest surprise and blessing I never knew I needed. While he was incarcerated, we talked often. More than ever before. Our conversations were filled with plans and promises. We spoke of the future — not just dreams, but decisions. We decided that when he was released from community corrections, we’d move the family back to Nebraska. We imagined raising our two little girls in a small town, surrounded by love, support, and stability — everything we never had growing up.

For a while, I truly believed in that future. I was building something real, something lasting. I thought we were both investing in that same dream. But what I didn’t know then — what I couldn’t have known — is that we wouldn’t make it to that point. The ending I had envisioned was never ours to reach.