When I left my hometown a week ago with my son and daughter, I promised not to go back to live. I spent one week in my auntie’s trailer praying and not losing hope. My kids and I slept on a cot in a small walk-in closet-like room surrounded by our belongings. I would curl my body into an S position for my son to sleep behind my daughter and me to nurse throughout the night.
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| early morning selfie |
I swatted away mosquitos and fanned my children with a piece of cardboard to ease their night sweats. For the past two months, my son has been trying to adjust to every hotel room and routine we created to survive.
I stopped faulting myself for being blindsided about three weeks after leaving in October. I stopped calling my spouse’s phone crying on his voicemails for help. As much as I felt as if I had so much rage building in my heart for him, I still felt helpless in a way. I felt as if maybe I couldn’t provide a stable living environment without him for our children, but after deep thought, I snapped out of that way of thinking. I had to stop being weak within my mind for a man who purposely wanted me to surrender.
He wanted me to surrender our children to him because of my living circumstances. I chose to not allow my living circumstances to place me in a victim mentality. I knew that the power I possessed and my faith in God would not lead me down a dark path with my children. We came close to being homeless.
I was about to start setting arrangements to go to a homeless shelter while in my hometown. I kept praying and speaking light into what seemed to be a dark situation. As you read this, I lay in a hotel bed with my children as they are asleep.
It’s before dawn. The room is dark, and the only light that gleams through the room comes from the window, where the curtains are slightly opened. I slept well last night. My kids and I have been in this hotel for almost a week, and it’s been a blessing. I may be what some would consider homeless because I don’t have a permanent address right now, but I will strive to have a roof over my children’s heads.
Christmas is two days away. I can clearly recall buying a new tree last year and decorating it while chasing my son around the living room for taking off shining ornaments. Christmas never had been about the gifts for me from when I was an adolescent. I grew up poor and knew that Christmas was overly popularized for gift-giving early on.
I used to want a hot meal and warm clothes for Christmas as I was coming up. This year I’m praying for good health and my children and a roof over our heads to enjoy one another’s company. I also would love for us to eat and for me to have an excellent milk supply to nurse Alina. A lot can change in a week. I went from eating two sandwiches a day last week to now eating filling meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I didn’t have much of an appetite, but I made sure my son ate and that I nursed Alina as frequently as I could to not lose my milk supply.
As this year comes to an end, I can sure say that I made it through despite every situation I dealt with as a mother. I made it through the end of this year with tears streaming down my face. I made it through without allowing my circumstances to leave me defeated. I believe that I am getting closer to my breakthrough each and every day. I will get through all this uncertainty and struggle with my head up high! Christmas will be refreshing this year for sure, and I am claiming it.
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