Writings of a brokenhearted Parent

This blog will be a journal of sorts, in which I will document the days apart from my child.

You can call me Silent. I'm a recently turned twenty-six year old mother of a little boy who I will from here on be referring to by his middle-name, Riane. Please note that many names will likely be changed through the progression of this blog, so as to provide absolute privacy to anyone involved. My son is eight years old; he was born when I was seventeen and has been, and will always be, the very sun in my sky.

I was seventeen and knew nothing of children. I never expected to have any, and it was a difficult thing to be a teenager and single parent who worked a full-time job and desperately tried to produce a good life for my baby. After struggling and nearly becoming homeless after his first year, I made a life changing move; I joined the military. I wanted to give my son a good life. I had not gone to high school and while I had applied for every form of state aid possible, living on 336 dollars a month and attempting to pay rent, day care, and all other needs (such as diapers and food, so on) was just not working. Where I live, it costs roughly 550 dollars to rent a small room.

So I went through training. Six months of it, without my baby boy. When I came home he was bigger (my mother had been taking care of him) and I broke down the moment I was able to hold him again. Even then, to be without him, the light of my life, was intolerable. I promised never again.

A promise I broke and will never, ever forgive myself for.

Please understand that this blog is from my heart, each and every word, for I cannot contain the sorrow I feel any longer. It will be emotional and often hectic, I imagine, but I will do my best to keep it as organized as I can.

In my next post I will describe the details of how CPS came into my life.
Thank you for reading.