How A Pregnancy Center Saved Me From Homelessness, Addiction, And Despair

Every day, women are left without a place to call home or support for their child. Many turn to pregnancy resource centers and maternity homes that stand as beacons of hope and sources of life-saving love and care.

These organizations have been the target of a number of terrorist attacks, which has only been described as tragic. They are affecting not only those who work there but also the women they serve. I have no idea where I would be without the amazing guidance and comfort that I received from my local maternity home.

My entire life had a very negative trajectory from the time I was a child. I was raised trying desperately to please my mother, an alcoholic. She was a victim of her addiction. When I was 14 years old, my life was completely on my own. My life was racked with deep trauma and an overwhelming sense of abandonment. I used drugs and sexual recklessness to cope. My life was quickly consumed by these things.  

As an adult, I was in a relationship that included a man who was also a drug addict. My addictions grew as I spent more time with my ex-husband. I also struggled with poverty, homelessness, and homelessness while he was in prison. I started manipulating my doctor to sell my prescription drugs in order to provide for the children I had with him.  

My rights to my children were terminated by the government as soon as my children were removed from their temporary home. The devastation and soul-crushing torment I experienced from losing my children jolted me back to reality — at least for a short time.   

I was aware that I needed treatment. I was able to get back on my feet after the treatment was successful. I learned that I was expecting my third child during the treatment. My son was born and I was leading a normal life. However, my ex-husband was released prisoner and wanted to move in. I was a codependent and allowed it. We quickly relapsed. My rights to my third child were then taken away.    

My first loss was the most devastating. But losing my third child — knowing I had failed again — was more than I could bear. I hated myself. I reached rock bottom and lost my will for life. My children are my life, and I lost my will to live.

I lost my ability to care for myself and was sentenced, much like my ex-husband. I waited patiently for my life to end, walking numbly.   

Reversing my life

To my surprise, my life changed when I went to prison. I was desperate and hopeless in prison and prayed to God that He would provide for me and my children. That was when I made a promise to myself that I would get up again and fight for my recovery.  

After I had been released from prison, my involvement in the local church led me to discover that I was also pregnant again. Terrified about losing a child for the state