Anne Sargent sat on her kitchen floor, tears streaming down her face. It was past midnight, the only time she allowed herself to show any vulnerability, knowing her three children were fast asleep upstairs. The baby growing inside her moved gently, and she placed her hand on her belly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, feeling a wave of guilt. “I’m trying my best, but it’s just not enough…”

Two months prior, Anne had been a joyful wife and mother, excited about the arrival of her fourth child. She had no doubts about her future or her husband’s love. That sense of security, however, had crumbled.

One evening, her husband Derek came home and abruptly announced he was leaving. “Why?” Anne had asked, baffled. “I thought we were happy.”

“YOU were happy!” Derek snapped. “All you did was have babies and fuss over them. Now there’s another one on the way, and I’m done!”

Anne reminded him that he had always wanted children, that he had been thrilled with each pregnancy. But Derek’s response was cold: “All you cared about were the kids. I was just a paycheck! Well, that’s over.”

Just three months after Anne joyfully shared the news of her pregnancy, Derek walked out. With him gone, Anne had to find a way to support her family, so she secured a part-time job at a grocery store. Although the owner offered her full-time hours, Anne couldn’t afford childcare, so her salary barely stretched, even with the child support Derek begrudgingly sent.

In an effort to make ends meet, Anne began selling cherished possessions. She parted with antique china inherited from her grandmother to cover utility bills, and later, sold a childhood silver brush-and-mirror set to buy groceries. Little by little, as her belly grew, she sold every valuable item she owned to keep her children safe and fed.

One day, when there was hardly anything of value left, Anne found herself staring at the old stroller she had dug out from the cellar. It was the same stroller she had used as a baby, and her children had used it as well. Though it was from the sixties, it was in pristine condition. She ran her fingers over the delicate roses painted on the sides, knowing she needed the money more than she needed the stroller for the new baby