When I Was Pregnant With Twins And Going Through Terrible Labor Pains, I Asked My…….

Travis sends letters from prison. They remain unopened in Christine’s office. Maybe one day, the girls can choose whether to read them. For now, I guard their peace.

I returned to work at a firm that offers flexibility. Finances are stable—the trust and settlement help—but I work because I want my daughters to witness independence. Dating can wait. Healing is my priority.

Sometimes I revisit that afternoon—the contractions, the fear, the blow. How easily everything could have ended differently if Lauren hadn’t arrived. If the doctors hadn’t intervened. If his punch had landed harder.

But mostly, I think about what followed: discovering strength I didn’t know I possessed, seeing the justice system hold him accountable, watching my daughters sleep safely in their beds. Travis took so much that day—my trust, my marriage, my sense of security. But he didn’t take what mattered most. He didn’t take my children. He didn’t break me.

I survived. My daughters flourished. We prevailed. And every night, as I tuck Grace and Hope into bed, kiss their foreheads, and tell them how deeply they’re loved, I understand the greatest victory of all: living well despite everything he tried to destroy.