On Halloween night, I thought I’d just be handing out candy, but I saw something I never expected—a baby, alone in a car seat by a grave. I rushed outside, heart racing.
Halloween had always been my favorite. I loved decorating and handing out candy. But two years ago, I lost my daughter, and with her, my husband. Now, I was alone.
That night, after the candy ran out, I saw the car seat. I approached it, finding a baby girl inside. There was a note: “Amanda, one and a half years old.” I called the police, but no one had reported her missing. I asked if I could take her home. They agreed.
Caring for Amanda was hard, but I fell in love with her. She filled the void in my life. Then, one morning, a knock on the door brought a police officer and Amanda’s grandmother, Carol, to take her back. Reluctantly, I handed Amanda over, my heart breaking.
Later, I realized Carol had abandoned Amanda. I called my ex-husband, John, for help. We took Carol to court and won custody. I was granted permission to adopt Amanda.
As John walked away after the trial, I called him back, asking him to join us for dinner. That night, I became a mother again, and hope returned. Halloween had brought me Amanda.
Two nights ago, I went to bed early because I’m currently 34 weeks pregnant, about to pop any day now.
Thirty-four weeks pregnant and fast asleep, I was jolted awake by my husband’s urgent cries in the dead of night. What followed shattered my world, and by morning, I knew I had no choice but to file for divorce. As my due date looms just two weeks away, I should be filled with excitement for the arrival of our baby. Instead, my heart is heavy with sorrow. My name is Mary, and this is the story of how one terrible night changed everything. It’s been five years since Daniel and I first met, and for the most part, our marriage…
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