I dreamed of giving my kids a good life. When I got pregnant again, I was in my mom’s trailer. I thought it was just for now. I’d save up and move us out.
But life was tough. Bills kept coming. Emergencies ate my savings. Still, I wanted my kids to know I tried. I hoped they’d grow up kind.
My oldest, Ethan, wasn’t ambitious. At 18, I said he should work. He could stay with me until he was ready. I didn’t want to kick him out.
Ethan took it as permission to stay forever. By 22, he had a basic job. He didn’t push himself. Then I got pregnant again, a surprise.
The guy I was seeing left me. Ethan grumbled. “We can’t afford a baby,” he said. His words cut deep. I was struggling more than ever.
I told him we’d manage. If he didn’t like it, he could leave. It hurt to hear him say that. But I had to keep going for my kids.
At five months, stress took over. I went into early labor. The doctors tried to stop it. My son, Liam, was born too soon. He was so small.
Liam went to an incubator. The doctors’ faces were grim. They stayed quiet while I recovered. I was terrified, but I held onto hope.
I stayed by Liam’s side when I could. The neonatal unit had other tiny babies. I didn’t understand the medical stuff. But Liam’s heartbeat kept me going.
Ethan visited once. He stared at Liam. “He’s alive?” he asked, touching the incubator. I smiled. “It’s a miracle,” I said softly.
He asked about Liam’s condition. I didn’t know much. When he said Liam might be suffering, I got upset. “I’ll fight for him,” I said.
Ethan nodded, maybe feeling guilty. We named the baby Liam. He left that night. I hoped he cared, but I wasn’t sure.
Liam’s road was hard. His early birth caused complications. He needed surgeries. We stayed in the hospital for 398 days. It was exhausting.
Some doctors doubted he’d survive. But Liam kept fighting. When we left, he needed medications for life. To me, he was perfect.
I headed to our trailer, ready to rebuild. Ethan wasn’t answering his phone. I thought he was busy. I wasn’t worried at first.
At the trailer, a man answered. He said he bought it from Ethan. My heart sank. My mom’s trailer was gone? It was all I had.
I panicked, holding Liam. He started crying. I felt lost. Then Ethan appeared, calling my name. He told me to follow him.
As we walked, he explained. That hospital visit changed him. He saw my love for Liam. He realized he’d been selfish, coasting through life.
Ethan started working extra hours. He saved every dime. He sold the trailer to buy us a small house. It had two bedrooms.
The house needed work. Ethan would live in the basement. I was stunned. My son did this? He smiled, asking if I was proud.
I laughed. “My heart might burst,” I said. The house was modest. It had used furniture and a crib for Liam. It was home.
Ethan said it was ours together. He thanked me for believing in him. We hugged. I felt hope again, stronger than ever.
Life stayed tough. Bills piled up. The house needed fixes. Liam’s care was costly. But Ethan worked hard, and so did I.
I took cleaning jobs, bringing Liam along. We pushed through together. I knew we’d make it, no matter what came next.
