Welcome
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Jeska's Page!

Meet Jeska:

Hi! My name is Jeska, and I'm 24. I live in Texas, where I work for a small Catholic newspaper and look forward to going back to college to get my degree (only one more year!) in English. I've been married for two and a half years to my best friend, Jeff, but we've been separated for almost a year. Our son, William, was born November 5th, 2006, and he was officially adopted on November 7th. We have one other child, two year‑old AnnMarie Eve (pictured above), who knows how to keep my hands full and a smile on my face!

Jeska’s Story

My relationship with Jeff had hit breaking point. Again. But this time was different. I had woken up... realized that in my drug use I was killing myself. But more importantly, I had realized that my infatuation with meth was destroying my family... I was a selfish and destructive mother... the person I had never wanted to become.

 I could have continued my habit, blaming it on Jeff, as I had done for so long. After all, he was the one that brought it in to my life. He was the one who wasn't working, who was letting me work 14 hour days only to come home to a filthy, disgusting, cluttered house, leaving me alone as a single mother of our infant the second I walked in the door. 

He was the one who drove me to near insanity, as we argued because I could not bear one more night of wondering when he would come home, if he would come home at all. He was the one who was stealing money from my wallet, disappearing for 12 or 15 hours at a time, to come home, argue with me, and put his fist through a wall.

 He was my vice, my habit, the one who drove me to test the evil waters of the most destructive drug of today. But I was the one who put the drug to my lips. 

From there it was nothing but a whirlwind, taking me further and further from reality, pulling my mind and body into a deep hole of disparity. But I continued, without thinking ahead... only thinking of the desperate situation in which I was living. And it was that... a situation. It was no life. 

One day I just woke up.... and my life was saved. The life of my daughter was saved. The lives of my family were spared. I did not realize then that it was God who pulled me back in to reality. But I thank Him every day that He did. I put it down... flushed it down the toilet, actually, and made a firm promise to God, myself and my daughter that I would never touch it again. I have stuck to that promise... only by the grace of God. 

As I said, I had woken up. Jeff, on the other hand, had not. It was December when I gave him the ultimatum that would change my life forever. Me and AnnMarie or the alternative.... Meth.

 I can't say he didn't try. He moved in with my parents (who I could write a book about if I had the time... it would be titled something like Saints on Earth). I continued my routine as a single working mother. I was in the midst of a deep, deep depression. It was not only depression in my mind. It had consumed my body... but more importantly, it had consumed my soul. 

Jeff's binges did not cease. He kept taking off, sometimes in my parents' car, once with their credit card. They handled it with a grace that I did not understand. But they did it for me and Annie, by the grace of God. 

It was February. Jeff was still living with my parents. Annie and I were making it. My best friend was in town from Colorado, and we were making plans to start over there, with her help. I don't remember the exact date, but it was her last night in town. Jeff and I went on a date, and when we got back to my house he decided that he was going back in to town to have a few beers. I knew that meant I would not see him the rest of the night, and refused, but he went anyway. 

That night I did not sleep. Midnight passed, and I had not heard from Jeff. Then passed 1... and 2... and 3... 4.... 5.... 6 o'clock a.m. my dad was at my house, knocking on my door, looking for the boy who was supposed to be asleep in his cellar. Jeff was no where to be found, and I had not heard from him all night. 

Six thirty a.m.... Jeff walked in my front door... 

I asked him where he'd been. I had not slept. My mind was taken back to all the times it had happened before. I was enraged... things were finally going alright. How could this happen again? 

He told me he'd been at my friend’s house... that there had been a spur of the moment party after the bar... a going away party for my best friend, at my other best friend's house. My best friends. I knew he was lying. There was no way he could have spent all night partying with all my best friends, the girls who I'd known and loved for years, the girls who I'd cried to for years about my lying, no good, drug addict husband, the girls who I'd worked with, who loved me, who hated what Jeff was doing to me and AnnMarie. There was no way this was possible. 

I picked up the phone and called her. The news I heard shattered me. It was true. And not only was it true that he was there until six a.m., he was there, drinking and doing drugs with all of my best friends, and not one of them, with all the cell phones in the house, loved me enough to pick up the phone and call me. 

I had been up all night, with not one second of rest, while my husband, who was currently living with my parents and "trying" to get clean, was partying with all of MY good friends, at my best friend's going away party. 

To say that my world was shattered would not even scratch the surface of the depth I hit. In one night I'd lost every person that I loved and trusted, including my husband. I was crushed. 

For three days my eyes were only filled with tears. My life seemed like a cruel joke.

 Jeff was gone, this time for the last time. My dreams of starting over in Colorado were gone, along with every friend but two. I had just started taking anti‑depressants. I felt like a depressed charity case, a bad mother, a loser, to say the least. Everything I'd loved, everything I'd worked for... gone, in one night.

Then I took the pregnancy test. It was positive. 

I could go on talking about the depth of my emotion, my black vision and empty soul... but I think this is where I talk about the light... 

I was driving in my car, screaming at God... how could He do this to me? WHY did he do this to me? It was a mistake. I was not pregnant. This was just another of life's cruel jokes. I was a single mother on welfare. I could barely provide for the child I already had. I could not have this child! And He hit me. He is not a violent God, but he just reached out and slapped me in the face. And from that day forward, I have thanked Him. He basically said, "I am here. Come to me, my child, and I will lift you up." 

He opened my mind, and I changed it. Instead of asking "why?" I asked "what? What am I supposed to do? WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS CHILD?!” He spoke to me. I did not hear actual words, but I felt them, and suddenly everything made sense.

 My decisions and circumstances led me to where I'd ended up, but I was finally able to see that He used those decisions and circumstances, worked through them, to give me a blessed, sacred gift. He’d taken the dark world I was in and showed me a lighted pathway. 

He used the night of the devastating party to finally help me let go of Jeff, to show me that His plan for my life was not in Colorado, and that the friends who I'd held so highly were actually holding me back. Now, I thank Him for that night. Had it not happened, I may still be in the same dark place I was then.

 Then He did something that would change my life forever. He made it very clear to me that the child He had placed in my womb, that I was so scared to have, that for a brief moment I'd even considered killing, was not my child. It was His. He had a home for that child, a plan for that child, and He made it crystal clear that He would do with this child what was in HIS will. He showed me that if I cooperated with His grace, not only would the lives of myself, my daughter, and my family be blessed, but so would the lives of dozens of others.

 My family was supportive. My friends (the two I had left) were encouraging. I knew it had to be done. There was never a doubt in my mind. 

I contacted C and A on March 10th. Memorial day weekend they flew from Michigan to Texas to meet me and my family. From there, we became very good friends. Family. And we grew to know and love each other.  

I felt William move. I fell in love with him, but knew he was not mine. I saw his picture on the ultrasound, and my heart leapt for joy for C and A.  

Jeff moved off and was doing better. We were falling back in love, but my decision never wavered. I didn’t know what our relationship would bring, and I could not imagine bringing another child into a fatherless home. And if we were to get back together, we would have to build a strong family before we added to it. I never changed my mind. Not once. And when he fell again, and got back on drugs, I was so thankful for that. He has been in rehab for months now. I can only pray that one day he’ll be a good father to AnnMarie, and that he will get to someday meet William and his parents. 

 I do thank him for being supportive. I cannot imagine how much harder this would have been if he was not on my side. He knows that he has issues he needs to deal with before he can effectively parent, and I can only pray that it is sooner rather than later.

 I gave birth to William on November 5^th. I signed the paperwork on November 7^th. I will be traveling to Michigan to be present for his baptism on March 18^th. It has all been so beautiful. At times it’s been difficult, almost too much to bear... but I’ve proven to myself that I’m strong, and beautiful, and that I made the most responsible (though difficult) decision of my life.

 By the grace of God and the support of my family, I gave this beautiful, fun, charming, intelligent, loving, funny, amazing couple a gift that will never, ever be forgotten. I, through God's direction, carried the child that He put on this earth to answer their prayers. He is working through ME. And He has worked through this situation. He has brought me and Annie to a life of joy. He has brought my family closer than ever.

 The first few weeks were hard. And there are days when I still cry. I don’t miss him, because I don’t know him. But there are days when I miss “what might have been.” I’ve found a couple other young birthmothers in similar situations, and I’ve volunteered as the “on call”  for girls who seek help at a crisis pregnancy center here. I know I can use my story to help others who may face a similar situation. And I know that in all of this, AnnMarie, William, me and William’s parents will all have better lives, more opportunities, and bigger smiles because of this adoption, the ultimate sacrifice of love.