12/26/2025
Women like you don’t raise kids.” I heard that more than once from riders I used to roll with. I didn’t let it land. I couldn’t have my own kids, but the want never went away. So when I stopped at that foster home during a charity run and saw Jordan, Tiana, and Ethan sitting apart from everyone, something pulled me in hard. Jordan kept his sister close like he was always on watch. Tiana talked fast, trying to sound older than she was. Ethan sat near the window, waiting for someone who never showed. Staff told me they were from different situations, but acted like a unit. They also said the room went quiet whenever I walked in. I started visiting weekly. Then twice a week. The kids followed me around like they’d already decided. I filed to take all three, even though I was alone and working long mechanic shifts. Home checks, classes, meetings—I pushed through every one. Two years later, they came home with my last name. Now they’re a doctor, an officer, and a firefighter. Guess a woman like me can raise kids.
