Life didn’t go the way I planned, but love still found us, and that love is enough to carry us forward. Leesa always dreamed of being a wife and mom. She reconnected with a high school acquaintance on Facebook, and they clicked fast. They married a year later and soon welcomed a healthy baby boy. A second pregnancy brought worry. At the 20-week scan, doctors found a two-vessel cord and warned her daughter might not be getting enough oxygen. She went for weekly checks and tried to stay calm. At the same time, her husband grew distant. She found things on the computer that made her wonder if he was gay. He denied it. Their daughter arrived after a rough delivery, the cord wrapped tightly around her neck twice, but she made it home safely.
Eight weeks later, a late-night text from her husband confirmed what she already knew: he was gay. Leesa sat up all night with a newborn and a toddler, crying, praying, and replaying everything in her head. At dawn, she packed a bag and drove to her parents. They hugged her at the door and told her she would get through this. She initially kept the news quiet, embarrassed about what people might say, but word spread. Some people gossiped. Many showed kindness.
After hard talks, she and her husband chose divorce. Then another blow. Her dad, rarely sick, developed pneumonia and landed in the ICU. Machines breathed for him. Leesa signed her divorce papers in the waiting room and then returned to his side. When the family was called in, she held his hand as he slipped away, her brother running in just in time to say goodbye. The community wrapped them in casseroles, yard work, visits, and love, but when the funeral ended and the door clicked shut, the ache became real.
Stress found its way into her body. She woke gasping for air, convinced she had the same lung disease. ER tests were routine. Doctors suggested panic attacks and PTSD. She hated the idea of help at first, then chose it, therapy, tools, and the courage to name what hurt. Months later, she moved to a small rental near her ex so the kids could go easily between homes. Single parenting was heavy and holy at once, twice the work and twice the hugs. She slowly rebuilt. She focused on health, lost over 60 pounds, and opened her heart to dating again.
A kind man who had his own scars showed up and stayed. They talked every day, met the kids, and moved carefully. He proposed with her whole family present. She worried about blending a family, but said yes. After the wedding, she learned she was pregnant. Their son was born chubby and healthy, and later her new husband adopted her two older children when their father signed over his rights. Less than a year after that, another surprise: a baby girl. Their home is filled with backpacks, bottles, and bedtime stories.
It’s been nearly four years now. They still face ordinary challenges, but try harder because they know how fragile things can be. Leesa still misses her dad. She tells the kids stories about their grandpa so they can know him through her. She sometimes thinks of the girl who cried in the ICU and wonders how she kept going. Then she sees it: she learned to ask for help, to trust God, to be gentle with herself, and to love her people fiercely. Her story isn’t tidy. It is honest. A marriage ended, a father died, a heart broke, and still she built a life with room for joy. She honors the past by making the present kind and steady for four small humans who call her Mom.
