My name is Kody, and asking for help like this is not easy for me.

I’m a father of two amazing children — my 10-year-old son and my 7-year-old daughter — and they mean more to me than anything in this world.

Before courtrooms, custody orders, supervised visits, lawyers, and everything that has happened over the last few years, I was simply their dad.

And I was there from the very beginning.

I was there for the first ultrasounds.

I was there when they took their first breaths.

I was there for the sleepless nights, the bottles, the diapers, the first smiles, the first words, the first steps, and all the little milestones that somehow become the biggest memories of your life.

At one point, I was part of practically everything.

Their everyday life was my everyday life.

I knew their routines. I knew what made them laugh. I knew what calmed them down. I knew the little things about them that you only learn by actually being there, day after day.

I wasn't trying to become their father.

I already was their father.

That is part of what makes where I am today so difficult.

For the past several years, I have been involved in a complicated custody case. And there is a part of my story that I am not going to hide or minimize.

In 2022, I entered treatment to address the issues I was struggling with. In 2023, I was incarcerated, and I remained incarcerated until August 2025.

I lost a period of time with my children that I can never get back.

I know that affected them. I know it affected my relationship with them. I made mistakes in my life, and I accept responsibility for them.

But I also believe something very strongly:

The worst period of a person's life should not permanently determine the kind of father they are allowed to become afterward.

I cannot go back and change what happened.

What I can do is show what I have done since.

I have continued rebuilding my life. I am employed. I continue working on myself and my sobriety. I enrolled in parenting education. I continue showing up for every opportunity I am given with my children, and I continue trying to maintain a meaningful relationship with them even when doing so has been incredibly difficult.

I am not asking anyone to believe that I am perfect.

I'm asking for the opportunity to show that I am still their dad.

Right now, my time with my children is extremely limited and supervised. I am representing myself in a custody case because I simply cannot afford the kind of legal representation this case has grown to require.

There are years of court orders, messages, records, exhibits, and events that need to be properly reviewed, organized, and presented.

I have spent countless hours reading Pennsylvania custody law, preparing filings, gathering evidence, organizing messages and documents, and trying to learn a legal system while at the same time trying to preserve the most important relationship in my life.

My relationship with my children.

I have done everything I know how to do on my own.

But I have reached a point where I need professional help.

I am raising money primarily to retain an experienced family-law attorney who can review the complete history of my case, help me properly present the evidence, protect my rights as a father, and advocate for a healthy path forward for my children and me.

I'm not asking strangers on the internet to decide who is right or wrong in a custody dispute.

There are two sides to every case, and that decision belongs in the courtroom.

What I am asking for is the ability to walk into that courtroom with qualified legal representation and have my side, my evidence, my progress, and my relationship with my children fully and fairly presented.

My goal is not to take my children away from their mother.

My children deserve to love both of their parents.

What I am asking for is the chance to truly be their father again.

I want the opportunity to move beyond short supervised visits and gradually rebuild normal parenting time in a healthy way — longer visits, ordinary days together, and eventually overnights and weekends if the court determines that progression is appropriate.

Because when you're a parent, it's easy to think the big moments are what matter most.

They aren't.

It's making dinner.

Helping with homework.

Arguing over bedtime.

Watching a movie together and realizing halfway through that one of them fell asleep against you.

It's hearing about what happened at school before anyone else does.

It's being there when they're sick.

It's teaching your son something your own dad taught you.

It's watching your daughter become her own person right in front of you.

It's getting annoyed at the mess and realizing later that you would give almost anything to have that mess in your house again.

Those ordinary moments are the things I miss.

I was there for their first breaths, their first steps, and their first words.

I don't want to only hear about the rest of their childhood secondhand.

What the donations will be used for

The money raised will go toward attorney retainers and legal fees, court-related expenses, obtaining and preparing records and evidence, professional services connected with the custody case, and other necessary expenses involved in pursuing a fair custody determination.

If I am fortunate enough to raise more than the amount ultimately required for legal expenses, any remaining funds will be used toward expenses directly related to rebuilding a stable life and relationship with my children.

I understand that times are hard for a lot of people. I don't expect anyone to put themselves in a difficult position to help me.

If you can donate, even a small amount means more than I can explain.

And if you cannot donate, sharing this fundraiser could be just as valuable. The person who sees your share may be the person who helps me reach the attorney who can finally help me navigate this properly.

I cannot change the time I lost.

What I can do is keep showing up, keep improving myself, keep rebuilding, and make sure my children know that their dad never stopped loving them.

I don't want my mistakes to be the final chapter of my relationship with my kids.

I want the chance to write the next one with them.

Thank you for reading my story, for sharing it, and for helping me fight for the opportunity to simply be Dad again.