 I became a mom when I was 41. For that moment that he was born, pure innocence and beauty had come into the world. I was married. I think what led to me leaving was rage towards me. I didn't feel safe. My son has reported harm to his therapists and doctors in school. My son has had injuries from visiting time with the father. In 2016, the court found that the father was not able to keep my son safe, was not able to take care of his medical needs, and had committed domestic violence. In two years, another party can file a motion to change the final orders, and in two years after that, it can happen again. And now I'm bankrupt from endless attorney's fees. The father filed for full custody, the parental evaluator that the father has hired. He wrote up that the child should be living with the father full time and that the mom was delusional because these reports are being made. I have no way of defending myself or protecting my child. They take my son away from me because he's reported things that happen that are really scary for him, and then my choice is going to be just to love him the best that I can with whatever opportunity I have. And one thing this process has taught me is truly living in the present with my child. In finding those moments of simplicity, of the smell of his hair, and watching him sleep, and when he's dancing with his friends, and when he has courage to try new things, those moments are what carry me as a mom through this hell.