Every day women find themselves pregnant with no place to call home and no support for themselves or the child they want to keep. Many turn to pregnancy resource centers and maternity homes that stand as beacons of hope and sources of life-saving love and care.
The recent rash of attacks against these organizations can only be described as tragic, harming not only the people who work there but the women they serve. I don’t know where I would be if I had not found such remarkable guidance and comfort at my local maternity home.
From my very earliest years, my life was set on a negative trajectory. I grew up desperately trying to please my alcoholic mother, who was at the mercy of her addiction. By 14 years old, I was on my own, and deep trauma and a sense of abandonment permeated every part of my life. To cope, I turned to drugs and sexual recklessness that quickly consumed my life.
As an adult, I entered into a relationship with a man who, like me, was a drug addict. My addictions intensified the more time I spent with my now ex-husband, and I struggled with poverty and chronic homelessness as he went in and out of prison. I started manipulating my doctor and selling my prescription drugs to provide for the two children we had together at that time.
The government soon took my children out of the makeshift home we lived in and terminated my rights to them.
