I’m so glad this had a happy ending. I remember my ex bringing my babies to me in treatment, after 5 months with no contact whatsoever. The judge had ordered visitation but he refused, and I was hardly in a position to force him to comply, and he knew it.

They were 3 and 7 at the time, almost 10 years ago now. I’ve never felt anything as good as when they broke into a run that ended in my arms.

During that 5 months without them, I had asked a friend in recovery how long it took for her kids to believe she was a good mom again. She said, “my kids would tell you I’ve always been a good mom.”

Today mine would tell you the same thing.

What a gift.

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.

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