Life After Loss: Lies and Letting Go

If you’re new here, Life After is a blog series featuring 15 women, 15 battles, and one powerful truth: there is life after. Through heartbreak, healing, and hard-won hope, Coach Jaleesa’s Happy Wife Happy Life is honored to help share their stories with the world.

Foreword by Coach Jaleesa

Some stories carry so many layers that it’s hard to find the words. This is one of them.

What you’re about to read is raw, real, and unforgettable. It’s about grief, betrayal, survival, motherhood, and the kind of faith that only shows up when everything else falls apart.

This blog isn’t just a testimony—it’s proof that God’s grace can hold you together even when life tries to break you in pieces.

May it remind you: survival is strength. And healing is holy.

An Unexpected Pregnancy and a Deep Regret

I must’ve taken a dozen of them, and every last one came back positive. I’m so upset with myself. How could I get pregnant by the jump off? He was just something to do—a stress reliever. I’m not even divorced yet, literally just left my husband. A sure consequence of being careless, I knew better. So here we are, two strangers now bringing a life into this crazy world.

Things were cool at first—lots of good times, food, trips, and laughs. Slowly those memories began to fade. When I was four months pregnant, he left town to “handle some business.” The phone calls came less frequently, eventually leading to the phone never being on. Day after day, month after month went by and no word from him.

I gave birth to a handsome chocolate baby boy who looked just like his father. By this time we were at least communicating through random email. He knew I had given birth and kept promising he was coming back to help me take care of him.

Meanwhile, a guy I had loved since high school came back into the picture. He picked up the slack and took care of my son like he was his own. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do—diapers, bottles, baths. Their bond was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.

I drank and did drugs to try and cope with the abandonment from his real father. It wasn’t easy at all. I ended up losing my apartment; my car broke down, I lost my job, and had to let my daughter stay with her father for a while until I got on my feet.

My friend and I parted ways because I decided that I didn’t want to live that type of lifestyle anymore. I needed to do better for my kids.

Reconnecting with a Ghost from the Past

My son’s father popped back up when my son was around 1 ½. There was so much built-up frustration, anger, sadness, but a part of me was really happy to see him. At the time I wasn’t aware of what a soul tie was, but looking back I realize it was more like soul bondage. We picked up right where we left off. Things got physical all over again.

I know it sounds dumb—how could I lay with a man who left me high and dry with a kid? If you don’t know… demons are real. I played his little game for a while and decided that I wanted more out of life and got baptized again. I was truly on fire for the Lord.

God loved me enough to send a prophet to warn me of a man in my life that I needed to let go of. I was convinced he was talking about my friend, not my son’s father. Boy was I wrong.

A New Pregnancy and Familiar Promises

Not too long after my rededication of my life to God, I felt a little funny and took a pregnancy test. Sure enough, it came back positive. Great! I was having another kid with this man who wasn’t even around for the first one.

The empty promises started to flow again. “We were going to be a family and he wasn’t going to leave me again.” My friend got me a part-time job with him and instead of me paying for a sitter, my son’s father volunteered to watch our son.

My father was always around growing up, so I thought this would be a great opportunity for them to bond. My son was a momma’s boy for sure, but he was stand-offish around his father. After all, he had no clue who this man was.

The Day That Changed Everything

On the morning of April 18, 2011, I was scheduled to work and proceeded to meet up with his father to drop him off. Call after call went to his voicemail. I grew so irritated with this man. I ended up bringing my son with me to work—praise God I had a really cool boss at the time.

My friend was scheduled to work that day, so he hung out with the both of us until his father finally showed up to get him. Little did I know that would be the last time I’d see my boy conscious and well.

Later that afternoon I got a call from his father in a state of panic. He told me that something was wrong with our son—he was breathing but unconscious. I thought I heard him wrong and asked him to repeat what he said. The words didn’t change.

I asked him where he was and he stated that he was about to pull into my job, which was literally 5 minutes from his house (opposite direction from the hospital). He pulled into my job practically on two wheels.

I ran outside to meet him and was instantly heartbroken. My boy, there in the backseat—limp and lifeless. His tiny 2-year-old body started to seize repeatedly as I held him.

My friend’s sister-in-law called the ambulance for us. His father pressed on his chest and tried to wake him as I cried frantically. I rode in the ambulance with my boy, feeling every ounce of life leave my body as I watched his limbs freeze from each seizure.

I had no clue how we got to this point and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

The ER, Questions, and a Mother's Dread

They took us to the back and immediately began to question us as to what happened. His story that he has stuck to, to this day, was that he put our son in front of the TV and went to take a shower. When he got out of the shower, little man was bent over asleep, so he laid him down on the bed. A little time passed and he tried to wake him up. He wouldn’t wake up, so he allowed him to sleep a little while longer. It was almost time for me to get off, so he shook him to wake him up and when he wouldn’t, that is when he called me.

It sounded reasonable to me, as I would never in a million years think he would do something to our sweet child.

Flight to UVA and a Devastating Diagnosis

Time passed and the doctors stated there wasn’t much more they could do for him here so they needed to fly him to UVA. I wasn’t able to ride with him, so I had to watch my boy fly away without me. I decided to ride with his father to UVA. I was in a complete daze. It felt as if I was watching all of this on a movie.

We went to his place to pack a small bag of things and then hit the road. I realized I hadn’t eaten all day long, so we stopped at the McDonald’s in Lovingston. There was some athletic event going on because there were two buses filled with kids inside and the drive-thru was wrapped around the building.

As soon as we got back on the road, a surgeon from UVA called me to inform me that my son had a stroke the magnitude of a 70-year-old person. His brain had swollen to the size of an adult’s brain and they needed to remove a portion of his skull to alleviate some of the pressure.

What little appetite I had immediately disappeared. My soul wept from the inside out. I kept asking him what happened and his story never changed. This didn’t make sense to me.

My family got to UVA before we did and had already spoken to investigators. Great, here I am in a whirlwind mentally and physically—now I have to talk to detectives. I told them everything and tried to not get irritated as they were only doing their job.

Abuse Revealed and the Beginning of Goodbye

There were tubes everywhere and a huge bandage covering his head. On the left side of his skull, the words “NO BONE” were in bright red. I lost it again. Just hours earlier he was following me around work eating a bag of chips, and now I was staring at him with a portion of his skull removed.

My faith kicked into high gear. Every negative report from the doctor I rebuked. I hadn’t prayed like this ever in my life. One day the doctor called me into a room and showed me his x-rays. My son had three broken ribs that were in various stages of healing. There was old and new blood on his brain.

He informed me that these were all signs of my son being abused, and his current state was due to him being shaken violently. I got up and just ran out of the hospital. I couldn’t believe the words I heard.

I was blessed to be able to stay at the Ronald McDonald House while he was there, so I ran there and sat on the bed in shock. I called his father screaming at him, asking him what he did to our son. Story never changed.

My son stayed on life support for a total of 9 days and wasn’t able to breathe without it, so the plug was pulled.

A Final Goodbye and an Unbearable Loss

“I’m sorry ma’am, but there is nothing else we can do for your son. We will give you a few moments to say your goodbyes.”

I will never forget those heart-wrenching words. “How am I going to go on in life?” “Why me, God?” Everything was a blur. I coasted through the entire burial process on autopilot. I was numb to my core. No parent wants to bury a life that they brought into this world. Writing my son’s obituary was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do in my life.

I was sick and tired of hearing the ever-popular cliché “I’m so sorry for your loss.” I wanted to scream, “Save your sorry sorries—they won’t bring my boy back!” I couldn’t let this pain stop me from living because not only was I carrying another life, but I had a daughter watching how I handled this devastating situation.

Carrying Life While Mourning Death

I’ve had a relationship with God ever since I was a young girl. The only thing that would give me some sort of comfort or relief would be to be in God’s presence. I had no choice but to press through the pain.

It hurt (still does) every single day—some days are much harder than others. But all I could do was take things one day at a time. I would see other little boys out with their parents and just break down. A couple of times I got down a little too low, attempting suicide. But God had other plans in store.

At first I was so angry for being pregnant while having to grieve the loss of a child, but now I know that was the very thing that saved my life. Had I not had a relationship with God, I know without a shadow of a doubt this thing would’ve taken me out.

A Painful Blessing and a Reason to Keep Going

That following year, I had a healthy baby girl. That was a big factor in the healing process. A lot of people who lose children don’t get another chance to have any more, so I was extremely grateful.

I now had not one, but two daughters watching how I dealt with the blows of life. I had to remember that they would model their behavior after mine. Baby girl reminded me so much of my son! It is a painful blessing at times. I couldn’t imagine life without her now.

My girls have provided me with so much motivation to keep pressing forward. I’m very grateful to have more reasons to live than to die.

When Grief Meets Justice: An Arrest I Didn't Expect

When my baby girl was 4 months old, they arrested my children's father for the murder of my son. During that year we had stuck by each other as grieving parents. We had countless interviews with investigators, but after so much time had passed, I didn’t think they had much of any case and my son just passed unfortunately.

My family was very upset that I would choose to stay by this man, and it put a huge strain on our relationship. We had buried a child together and were bringing another life into this world together. I was in such a fragile state of mind at times. Hormones were raging and I spent a lot of time isolated with just me and God.

I honestly believed him when he said he didn’t do anything malicious to our son. My friend lashed out because he was hurt by losing my son as well—in reality, he was the real dad.

Another Life Taken Too Soon

About a year and a half after my son passed away, my friend was also murdered. He was shot 17 times while wearing a shirt with a picture of him holding my son. Another devastating blow to my heart.

My son’s father was incarcerated for an entire year before he ever went to trial. During that time, I supported him with letters, calls, and occasional visits. I really believed that he would be let go and we would just be a family again. Not so, said God.

Courtroom Betrayal and Unexpected Blame

It’s one thing to have to deal with a death or tragedy, but to have it blasted all over the news channels and newspapers is a whole other thing. I found myself in a long, drawn-out jury trial, only to find out his entire defense was that I was to blame for my son’s injuries and everything was my fault.

I was completely blindsided and enraged that this man would have the audacity to blame me after I went against everyone and everything to support him. A lot of details of my son’s death I couldn’t find out until during the trial. I was truly devastated.

He was found guilty and eventually sentenced to 25 years in jail.

Back in Court, Back in Pain

A few months later, I found myself back in the same courtroom during the murder trial for my friend. It brought back so many emotions and feelings from being there for my son. Since he was wearing the shirt with my son, they brought up how he had raised him during his short life. Again, here I was tied to an unfortunate murder.

I felt as if a scab had been ripped off and my heart bled all over again. The young man that killed him was sentenced to life in prison.

From Couches and Crying to Stability and Strength

I found the more I put my trust in God, the more He poured His blessings upon me. I lost my apartment shortly after giving birth and house-hopped for about 6 months. My reality had become couches, twin beds, and sofa beds with my two girls.

On top of grieving, trying to heal—and now here came the real struggle. It wasn’t easy, but I refused to give up. There was a blessing in the pressing. I went from the struggle to getting a really nice apartment, job, and vehicle all within a matter of months. God really showed me that He hadn’t forgotten me and truly heard every cry.

Choosing Joy After Pain

Every day that I wake up, I have to make a choice. A choice of whether I’m going to have a good day or a bad day. I had to understand that the bad days were perfectly fine—I just couldn’t get stuck there.

There was nothing wrong with reminiscing on the good times I had with my son. Over time I learned that it was more important to cherish those moments versus focusing on the fact that he was no longer around. I began to smile through the tears.

I know my son wouldn’t want me to be a depressed basket case, so I refused to even allow myself to sink to that point. I was raised tough, so there was no better time to put those skills to use.

Living with the death of any close loved one is like walking around with a huge bag on your shoulders. Over time the bag gets a little lighter. It never leaves—just gets a little lighter. I refused to be known as the mom who lost her son, but the mom who persevered through tragedy only by God’s grace.

Love, Redemption, and a New Chapter

I have since met what I call “the Godly man of my dreams.” He has helped heal areas that I thought were taken care of. He has embraced my journey and encouraged me to keep living. We are currently expecting a son together in a couple of months (11 days before my son’s birthday) and look forward to spending our lives together raising our children.

I am living proof that when you put your all into God—especially during those hard times—He will ALWAYS take care of you.

I wouldn’t wish this hardship on anyone, but I’m extremely pleased with the woman I’m becoming every day. I exuded strength that I never knew I had and now know I can make it through anything.

To God be the Glory!