My addiction started when I was 17. I was a great student and athlete with loving parents and every opportunity I could have needed. I went to one party, and that’s where I was introduced to meth. After that first time, I was in love. I would get clean long enough to have a couple of babies, but I never worked on myself, so I fell right back. By 23, I was a junkie living on the streets without my babies. I thought I already lost everything, so what’s the point? By the time I realized I was pregnant, it was already too late.  I delivered stillborn twins at barely 20 weeks. I wish I could say this was the end of my addiction, but it only fed it. It took me facing prison and going to rehab to finally get clean. Being sober, I had to feel those feelings, all of them. I had to take responsibility for all the people I hurt and forgive the ones who hurt me. It’s been almost six years, and I’m still fighting every day. I have to take care of my mind and soul. I learned about my bipolar disorder and how it’s common for people to self-medicate for underlying issues. I am finally getting things back together with support from family and friends. I have four amazing children, and I just got into the LPN program. I’m going to get my RN and work in labor & delivery to help bring babies into this world or comfort the mothers who are going through the most challenging day of their life. I never thought I would have made it this far, but I keep pushing myself every day. I want people to know that no matter what you have done, it’s never too late.