My name is Chrissy LeBlanc. I am 41 years old, and I am a mother, a survivor, and a fighter.

I had my daughter, Nevaeh, at the age of 32 after surviving years of trauma—mental, physical, and sexual abuse. My childhood was anything but stable. I grew up in 42 different foster homes across California, Oregon, Minnesota, and Colorado. By 16, I emancipated myself, determined to create a life that looked nothing like the one I came from.

Since then, I’ve worked tirelessly to not only survive—but to grow. I became a CNA, worked with hospice patients and people with disabilities, tutored young students, and became certified in trauma-focused acupuncture and recovery coaching. Every part of my journey has been about healing, rebuilding, and lifting others up, even while I was still healing myself.

But nothing in my life prepared me for the heartbreak of being separated from my daughter.

Nevaeh is now 9. I haven’t been allowed to see her in seven years—through no choice of my own. I have tried, over and over again, to stay connected, to be involved, and to protect her. But the circumstances surrounding her care have made that incredibly difficult. I’ve gone to court, I’ve filed motions, I’ve done everything I can—often alone, representing myself, while navigating brain injuries from past trauma.

There have been missteps and moments of heartbreak, including placing my trust in someone I believed was an attorney, only to discover much later he was not. Still, I kept showing up. Still, I kept fighting. Because I believe my daughter deserves to know her mother—and to grow up in a safe, stable, and loving environment.

I’m not here to speak badly about anyone. That’s not who I am. I’m here to say that the current situation is not what’s best for my daughter, and I am doing everything I can to change that in a way that is respectful, legal, and right.

But I need help. I need a qualified attorney, and I need the ability to provide a stable home where my daughter and I can begin again—together.

I’ve come this far through resilience and faith, and I believe with a little help, we can get through this final stretch. If you feel moved by our story, I ask you to please consider donating, sharing, or simply sending support.

Every bit helps me take one step closer to being reunited with the little girl who changed my life—and who deserves to know just how much she’s loved.