From Guest to House Mom

My story starts long before North Place, but that is where my journey truly begins. For you to understand the magnitude of what God has done in my life, and what He continues to do, I have to tell you where I came from.

I was born in September 1993 with an older brother, Terry, and my big sister, Jackie. I didn’t realize it then, but they were the glue that held us together. Only children themselves, they somehow became the adults in our lives. My mother and father were both alcoholics with a slew of other addictions. This affected me and my siblings more than we could have ever realized.

My mother tried hard to provide for us and give us the life we deserved, but more times than not, her addiction won the fight, and we were left trying to find which bar she passed out in or what guy took her home. For a little girl who was nothing but a momma’s girl, this was scary. We moved more times than I can count. I think I attended every elementary school in our county, except one, before the age of 8. No matter where we moved, my momma always had a way of making it feel like home. It didn’t matter if it was the oldest, smallest trailer in the dirtiest part of town. It was almost like Mom had this magical touch, and if we were there together, it was home.

My mother had some bad characteristics and made some bad choices, but she had a lot of really good ones too. So many different things transpired when I was a kid. Some really awesome things and some really ugly things. When I was six years old, I remember telling my mom and my sister that our dad had molested me. This was really hard for my sister to learn. I didn’t know it, but she had been standing between us for years. She tried so hard to protect me, but she couldn’t always be there.

As I grew older, I started turning to my peers to fit in. In middle school, I started drinking and smoking weed. I dropped out of high school in my sophomore year and attended military school, where I graduated. After that, my life turned into a whirlwind of the party scene. It quickly went from drinking and smoking to trying pills and harder drugs.

Fast forward six or seven years, I’m 21, with the love of my life, Cody, and I get pregnant with our son, Gabriel Scott. Life is good and okay for a while. Soon, drugs creep back into our life. I get pregnant again with our daughter, Bella Rain. After I gave birth to Bella, drugs had such a hold on us and on me that I was getting high before I left the hospital. For the next two years, it was an absolute blur. During some point in those two years, we traded our pill addiction for a heroin/fentanyl addiction. It just kept getting worse.

On May 15th, 2019, I said goodbye to my babies and checked myself into rehab. Cody was leaving an emergency room in the town he worked in and was also headed to rehab. Cody’s withdrawals from heroin got so intense and unmanageable that they almost took his life. It’s truly hard to think about. The sad part is we didn’t get it yet. That wasn’t quite enough. We would spend the next two and a half years in and out of rehab, jails, and institutions. It was pure insanity. The number of times that I overdosed and died could easily outnumber my fingers and toes. The reality of fentanyl is death, and it only got worse when I started using a needle. I’m struggling with words to describe this time of my life to you. The two that keep coming to my mind are chaos and insanity. And I guess that’s right. But it was also scary. Probably the most terrifying time of my life.

There was a short period when Cody and I were split up, both still living chaotic, dangerous lives but apart. Our children were still with his parents, and time kept passing. What we didn’t realize was that time was exactly what we were running out of. I spent some of my time in Clarksburg, WV, completely out of it on drugs. While I was there, I went through something traumatic that was not consensual. After that, I reached out to a family friend and tried to get away and find some solitude in a different state, thinking that would make everything better. If I could just get away from the people and the drugs.

While I was there, I was still drinking heavily and still not making good decisions. I was on dating sites, drinking, and having one-night stands. Now, it’s hard to even say that, knowing that is so far from the woman God created me to be. One night, I called Cody in tears. He ended up driving five hours to pick me up and bring me home. We started getting high right away. This time was different. This time was so much worse. Our drug addiction had such a strong hold on us, and we were so miserable and broken that we didn’t care if we lived or died. Actually, we talked about ending it all sometimes, so our family wouldn’t have to go through this with us. Because, let’s be honest, this is a family disease—they might not be doing the drugs, but they are right there with you, going through and feeling it all. I think that’s the worst part sometimes—what we put our family through.

On April 6th, 2021, we checked into rehab, but this time it was different. We gave it all to God before we left. It was a little difficult for me to find placement this time around, and it seemed like it took days. Just a few weeks before we decided to go back to rehab, I found out I was pregnant. I was scared to death. I didn’t know if this baby was going to be okay. I had done so many drugs and overdosed many times. On top of that, for the first time in my life, I was pregnant, and I didn’t know without a doubt that Cody was the baby’s father. Actually, I wasn’t sure if this pregnancy was a product of the rape I experienced, the one-night stand that had occurred, or if this was Cody’s baby. To say I felt ashamed is an understatement. I felt alone and terrified. I was so scared she wasn’t going to be okay.

Upon arriving at the rehab treatment center and learning I was pregnant and coming off of large amounts of fentanyl, they got me in to see the doctor right away. It was like almost instantly, the enemy had crept in and was trying to take a place in my life. From the doctors at the rehab center to the doctors at the OB/GYN to my family and people around me that I loved and cared about, everyone was telling me that I needed to get an abortion. They said there was no way I could love the baby I was carrying, and if there was even a slight chance she was from the attacker, that would be all I would see. I wouldn’t see her beautiful brown eyes, her pigtails, or her smile that brings so much joy; I would see him. And for the people that didn’t say that, there were those who said there was no way she would be okay. They said all the drugs I put into my body while I was pregnant with her, all the overdoses, and the times that my heart stopped (and so hers had to have stopped too) meant there would be no way she would be okay, that she would have no quality of life. Something would be wrong.

The scary part is I started believing it, so I set up an appointment at a women’s clinic, and that meant I was making an appointment to terminate my pregnancy. When I walked into the building, it felt different—the rush of air. There was a calmness in the air. Later, I found out that was the presence of the Lord. I walked in and had my appointment. I talked with the nurse, and we discussed how far along I was and what that looked like as far as my procedure went. That’s what they called it: a procedure. But it seemed so much more than that.

During this procedure, I went to my pre-op appointment one day away from terminating my pregnancy. When I went into my room and sat down on the table, something happened to me. There was a presence in the room that I had never felt before. The nurse came in and did the ultrasound to make sure everything was okay. That didn’t make much sense to me either, but during that time, she prayed with me. She hugged me while I cried, and we looked at the pictures of this baby. During this time, I had a spiritual awakening. God spoke to me, and I heard Him say, "It has been a long journey, but this is your ray of light, keep going."

Cody and I were in different facilities at this time, and we could only write letters to each other. I remember that day, I wrote him a letter explaining that I had to keep her—we had to keep her! I told him in the letter that I wanted to name her Journey Rai. I put his letter in an envelope, placed a stamp on it, and addressed it. When the staff came around later with the mail, I handed her his letter with a smile, and she said, "Oh, I have something for you." It was a letter from Cody, and he was saying he felt like we needed to keep the baby. I was in shock and filled with joy.

Forty-five days later, I graduated from the rehab and went on to another long-term place. While I was there, I wanted to start going to church. One Sunday, I went to Downtown Bethel on Market Street. When I was there, I felt the presence of the Lord like never before, and I felt at home. I went up to the altar and gave my testimony. I met so many wonderful people. While I was there, I met Sonya, a house mother at North Place Maternity House. She told me all about North Place and said she thought I should meet Miss Susie. After meeting Miss Susie and interviewing for the maternity house, I moved in right away. I felt at home as soon as I walked in.

During my time there, I gained employment, set visits with my other children, got my license back, and so much more! I developed a relationship with Jesus while I lived at NP. I continued to go to church at Downtown Bethel and became a productive member of society. I built friendships and relationships at North Place that I will treasure in my heart forever. Once Journey Rai was born, North Place helped me juggle the everyday life struggles of being a new mom and also being newly sober. They always had a way of making us feel loved and part of a family.

When Journey was around 9 or 10 months old, I moved out into my own apartment and started my life. I went on to work with women in recovery for the next two years. I have been blessed with the opportunity to speak publicly about my story on more than one occasion. I spoke at the WV State Capitol, for the women’s care center that helped me save my babies a couple of times, and for North Place Maternity House at the annual luncheon. Today, I am a wife and a mother to all three of my children. Today, I am grateful to be a house mother at North Place and have the opportunity to give back a little of what was given to me.

God is so good. None of this would have been possible without God. The one thing that was different this time than any other is that we gave our lives to our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Through Him, all things are possible. I personally wouldn’t have been able to do it without North Place Maternity House and Downtown Bethel. I will forever be thankful.