Just two days after he was sentenced, I stood in on another court date on his behalf. We were in the middle of pursuing custody of his one-year-old daughter, a little girl I had been raising and providing for since January of that year. The first hearing hadn’t gone as we hoped, and the judge set another court date just five days later. I showed up, determined and hopeful, and that time, we were awarded temporary guardianship. She would live with me while her father served his three-year sentence in community corrections.
I was overjoyed. Having cared for her for months already, I had formed a deep bond with her. She felt like my own, and the court's decision brought a mix of relief and overwhelming love. I knew this wasn’t going to be an easy road, but I was committed.
Just a week after gaining guardianship, I received heartbreaking news—my grandmother’s health had taken a sharp turn for the worse. She was in Nebraska, and the family was gathering to say their goodbyes. I didn’t think twice. I packed up the car with his 16-year-old son, who was living with me and attending Arvada High School, and his baby daughter. Together, we made the trip back to my home state of Nebraska.
We arrived just in time. I was able to hold my grandmother's hand and tell her how much she meant to me—but she passed away that very night. It was a moment of intense grief, but also a reminder of the circle of life and the importance of family.
We stayed in the small town of Grant that week, waiting for the funeral. It was during those quiet, heavy days that I noticed something: I was late. My sister and I made a trip to the local Dollar General and picked up four pregnancy tests—just to be sure. Back at her house, I took the first one. Positive. Then the second. Still positive.
I stared at that test in disbelief. We had conceived just two days before he was sentenced. I was 39 years old, with three children already from a previous marriage—kids I had raised into adulthood. I was supposed to be nearing the "empty nest" phase of life. Instead, I was staring at a brand-new beginning.
I was absolutely terrified. So many thoughts raced through my mind: the challenges, the uncertainties, the judgment I might face. But underneath all of that fear was a quiet, fierce joy. I was carrying a new life—a piece of him and a new chapter for me. We would be starting a little family of our own. It wouldn’t be easy. Nothing about our story had been. But I was ready to make it work, no matter what.
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