**edited to reflect the current situation**

This started as a campaign to help remove Stephanie and her three kids from domestic violence a month ago, and since then another huge life event is drawing closer. Her 19 month old son, Jude, is having BRAIN SURGERY to decompress a Chiari Malformation on May 6th. Stephanie has been able to retain an attorney in regards to the domestic violence/divorce/protective order which is such an amazing step that could not have been taken without the generosity of the people who found it in their hearts to donate. Her personal testimony is still shared below for anyone who would like to see what her experience was like. ❤️

She is in need still and with her sons surgery fast approaching she can use all the prayers, positive vibes and help she can get. She removed herself and her three kids from domestic violence but because of her sons impending surgery she has not been able to relocate to be near family and friends and is going through this surgery alone. She was unable to work during her marriage due to the domestic violence and was completely isolated and unable to form a support system, and cannot work now due to Jude’s medical needs and her 5 month old daughter.

Immediate relief is needed for daily expenses, lodging and meals through Jude’s surgery. He will be in the ICU for a few days following the surgery, and then two weeks later will need to go under anesthesia again to get another upper body cast put on. Jude also suffers from infant scoliosis and is going through a serial casting process which is expected to last for 2 years. Despite everything he is such a happy, loving and resilient kid ❤️

Stephanie and the kids are also still in need of funds to help them relocate after Jude’s surgery and recovery so that they may be embraced by her family and friends, start to heal, thrive and move onto the next chapter in their lives.


****will be updating throughout Jude’s surgery and recovery****



Stephanie’s personal testimony:

I finally found my voice and I’ll never be silent again.

**this is a really intense read, trigger warning to some**

Where to even begin? It’s hard to find a starting point when you’re talking about something that has lasted what feels like a lifetime. I have finally and completely removed myself, and my children, from an extremely abusive relationship. I don’t have any crazy photos of blood running down my face or black eyes, instead *most* of my scars are on the inside. This particular kind of abuse is a hard one to see coming because it comes on gradually over time and starts with little things that aren’t so obvious. And then you’re in it, life takes over and all of a sudden the codependency stemming from a lifetime of irrational fears of being alone becomes a crippling nightmare.

I married a man because of an unplanned pregnancy, in which we were told our baby would have Down Syndrome. I prepared for a baby with special needs and in the process married for stability, moved across the country to another state to be near his larger family network for support and unknowingly began the most abusive and controlling relationship I could ever imagine. Most of the things he did were so bizarre that I honestly didn’t know how to react. I knew they were wrong and just insane but the idea of raising a special needs child on my own was too much, on top of already raising my older son from a previous marriage that was abusive in a whole other kind of way (years and years upon years of drug addiction that I thought he could overcome, and physical violence under the influence that would eventually lead to him being arrested and convicted for a felony domestic violence strangulation, when he tried to strangle me to death because I didn’t have money for him to pay his drug dealer that had brought him to my house at 1am in the high on meth with our then 5 year old son home and witnessing it all—but that’s the kind of abuse you can easily recognize, and that whole ordeal isn’t the point of this particular chapter. Just a little background).

Anyways so yes it was just little things at first. No social media was one of the biggest, with a rationality behind it of “are you going to care about what any of these people are doing on your deathbed” and I mean...ummm probably not? So he said why waste that time when you can spend it with your kids and family and people that matter. Okay...well ya...that makes sense! And honestly I have no issues being off social media and don’t personally find it a relief, but from that point on I was not ALLOWED to be on social media, and on occasion when he would find out I had even logged on there were “punishments”. If I raised my voice, disagreed, argued or back talked...there were “consequences” which ranged from intense verbal assaults to things like the shower head being taken off so I couldn’t shower, turning the breaker off when I’m in the shower leaving me in the dark (and also denying it, ultimate gas lighting), breaking any kind of sentimental belongings ESPECIALLY the things that were acquired before our relationship or even just threatening to break or destroy things so that I would plead apologetically for him to stop. He wanted me to be a stay at home mom, he wanted to work hard and provide financially, he said he wanted to provide stability...and when he came into my life those were all things I desperately needed and had yet to find in a man. So I moved across the country from Washington state to Indiana. If anyone is thinking of moving to Indiana (why the hell would you?) just, no.

Indiana summer of 2017 we relocated and I thought I was moving to be near a large family support network of my husbands, in order to surround our expected special needs baby with so much love, but unfortunately this is where the real isolation began. I shouldn’t be on the phone if he’s home, I shouldn’t even really receive phone calls after 5 (and if I did the tension/paranoia from him would make me physically adverse even to getting them because of the difference in how he treated me). So it’s almost like I was being conditioned over time, these behaviors became routine and I stopped questioning them and just started eliminating everything that caused negativity. But that was my WHOLE social word. I began isolating myself from family and friends, sure I would mention things and they knew it wasn’t right but what could I do? I didn’t have the family network or financial means to make it on my own in my mind at the time.

Our son Jude was born in September that year, without Down Syndrome. The whole preparation through pregnancy expecting a baby with Down Syndrome is something that’s hard to explain. I loved my son no matter what difficulties we would face and while 70-90% of expectant mothers who find out they’re having a baby with DS terminate, that was never an option in our minds. Through that preparation though you also feel anger, resentment, guilt, shame, fear and grief. You find solace in networks of people that have gone through the same thing and you start to move forward, but until it’s something you personally go through you’ll just never understand...like most things in life. BUT our son as I said was born without it, genuinely the BIGGEST SHOCK of my life minutes after I pushed him out of me. I wouldn’t say I even felt relief because I loved him already as a little boy with Down Syndrome. So yes Jude didn’t have DS but he did have two congenital heart defects, a small VSD and ASD and after following up with cardio we were ecstatic to find out they would close on their own quickly. So Jude comes and the abuse gets INSTANTLY worse. Because now he has the control. I’ve had a baby with him in a state where I personally have no family/friends and I’m completely isolated from social media and social interaction in most forms in general. I rarely even talk to my parents at this point, maybe 2 lifelong friends. I’m forced to breastfeed, it’s a mother’s job he tells me and if I can’t do that then I serve no purpose. Breastfeeding didn’t work for me but in order to maintain the peace I exclusively pumped for 4 months. I have to cook every meal. I have to wash every dish. We don’t go out to eat ever. I don’t wear makeup ever. I don’t cut my hair. I don’t dare dye my hair. But those things are all justified by not wanting to be with someone “fake” and when the relationship first began they were requests, but as time progressed I learned they were actually demands.

Now I want to just take a second to say, I am not perfect. I have my faults just like everyone else. However a good friend of mine pointed out to me that yelling and screaming aren’t a reason for anyone to punish someone else, berate them, humiliate them, hurt them. And that’s ultimately the “wrong” in which he justified those punishments. For me ever standing up for myself or merely disagreeing, would lead to consequences. I’m sure you can see the trend here of punishments and consequences. Starting to sound a lot more like a father then a husband. My husband believed women are subservient to men per the Bible. That it goes GOD, MAN, WOMAN on a tiered system in which women are below men. He once told me “If I tell you that you should never wear green then you should not even question it and never wear green again”....the fuck?

So here’s where the biggest game changer comes in and I won’t go too much into this part because it is what it is, but I find out I’m pregnant again despite taking a plan B within 12 hours. This is where shit gets really serious. I definitely considered but ultimately never could go through with an abortion. Amidst an argument one day with my husband I scream that I’m not going to get an abortion. He gets up and starts throwing things eventually backing me into a corner lifting his foot up in the air while I’m crouched in the corner demanding I expose my stomach so he can stomp the baby out of me. Of course he never followed through. Rarely did he actually commit physical violence against me, or follow through with the threats he made, but he followed through with enough to keep me in line, and he always justified his physical violence because of MY screaming and irrational behavior (that he couldn’t understand was stemming from the crazy demands and things he was doing to me). There were some occasional backhands to the face, shoved down to the ground, threats of force or “wishing” he could do something more. This is where I leave for good....the first time.....

I go and file a protective order that gets granted the same day. My 83 year old dad flys to Indiana, we load up a uhaul and drive back to Texas. Where most of you know I’m from. So husband at this point becomes hyper aware of all the pain he’s caused, provides so much explanation as to why these behaviors occur (and there is legitimate reasons they just aren’t excuses ‍♀️). I feel like I somehow just got some control back. There’s a laundry list of all the things that will change, blah blah blah I don’t need to elaborate on this one. So I’m in Texas now staying at my moms 2 bedroom un baby friendly home (she’ll probably get offended here but it’s just the truth). So from here obviously I personally have a lot of excuses as to why I made these decisions, mainly financial and having two babies back to back. I allow my husband to move to Texas. At this time my mom isn’t living in the home but is at her other residence out of state. Even though I was back in Texas in my own stomping grounds I had become so isolated that I didn’t even actively get back on social media, and so I still kept myself isolated because I knew if I didn’t then my husband would definitely not help support me and the kids financially. He came down and within a month was headed back to Indiana. He lets me know if I ever want any support whatsoever financially, physically, emotionally then I better get back to Indiana because it will not work in Texas (which he is only intimidated by because it’s where I’m from and around people and things I’m familiar with). I’m 6 months pregnant by this point and now things get ever SHITTIER.

In the process of all this other stuff Jude is diagnosed with infant scoliosis. Now I genuinely don’t want anyone to tell me about the people they know that had scoliosis and ended up fine, IT WASNT IN A BABY I guarantee you. Sorry that one really gets me . When Jude got his first X-ray for his back he had a 26 degree curve (at 8 months old) and by his second X-ray less then 2 months later it had progressed to a 55 degree curve and was also severely rotating. His case is severe, though it can obviously get much worse. It was recommended that we start serial casting closely following Jude’s first birthday. Serial casting is a permanent hard upper body cast that gets changed under anesthesia every 2 months for roughly 2 years while they’re still growing fast. It’s the ONLY POSSIBLE cure and it has to be started as early as possible. Prognosis for total correction for Jude is not good because of how severe his is. Also through this I am having to drive him to Austin, Texas every other week for helmet adjustments because he required a reshaping helmet for his head due to plagiocephaly. I charged the helmet to my personal debt through a care card because they told my Jude’s face and jaw would be deformed without it, but then why wouldn’t insurance cover it? Anyway obviously I just did it and then while very pregnant in Texas summer I continued to take him. Jude is also having weekly therapy at this point as well.

I start trying to find resources to help me find my own place in Waco and figure out how to survive on my own. There were some beacons of hope in various women I came across who genuinely wanted to help, but ultimately it just wasn’t possible. I hit roadblocks after roadblocks and facing Jude’s impending medical issues and no way to survive on my own financially, I start to really come to terms with the fact that it’s not going to happen. My husband comes down to visit me for a weekend and I cave...I had been trying to make it on my own already for a few months and it just never worked out. I go back to Indiana, and he doesn’t even take his flight home but instead we rent a uhaul and drive back together.

Back in Indiana things start escalating again back to the way they were before I ever left VERY quickly. I make a mad dash to a domestic violence women’s shelter in Indiana within 1.5 months of my due date with the new baby and with my 8 year old and 11 month old baby in tow. My husband locked all of us out of the house and said I was kicked out, I literally can’t even remember the reason it was stupid. The shelter was disgusting. The whole experience was disgusting and it sent me back so fast you can’t even imagine. I’m not saying I was expecting the Ritz but no, like just no. I wasn’t raised to be in this kind of position. I wasn’t raised to be struggling in poverty. I came from an upper middle class home and was afforded a lot of luxuries growing up that I am eternally grateful for but my parents are older and the age of most people my ages grandparents, and by this time in life are living on fixed incomes in retirement and can’t financially support a daughter and her soon to be 3 children. Which I understand and don’t blame them for. But I’m constantly in this vulnerable position. Constantly making personal sacrifices for what I believe at the time is in the best interests of my children.

By now my mindset in day to day living is pretty warped. I have PTSD, not only from my previous marriage, but this one now too. I don’t feel like a victim at all, in fact I don’t even feel like the abuse is all that bad anymore. Things are confusing here because in this relationship there are two kinds of abuse, the day to day unrealistic crazy demands (only go to the store once a week or in town in general, don’t socialize anywhere you go, isolation, emotional control) and then there’s the rarer but MUCH WORSE physical abuse. But I justify going back by telling myself “the shitty you know is better then the shitty you don’t right?” I’m trying to keep the 8 year old happy in the same school, trying to get my almost 12 month old ready to start the castings, and I’m 6 weeks from having my first baby girl.

I go back. I have my daughter, Lola Jean, in November, I’m making dinner and picking up the house the same day I’m home from the hospital after having her. By now he tells me daily that he doesn’t want me, doesn’t love me, doesn’t love our daughter. He tells me that love has to be earned, not just given...even for a baby. I get the stomach flu 5 days after having my daughter and I’m violently ill for almost 12 hours straight before I go to the ER for fluids and something to help me quit throwing up. During that 12 hours he won’t even feed the baby for me, when she cries he yells at me that he’s not a babysitter (WHILE IM PUKING in a bucket next to the bed trying not to shit my pants at the same time ). No shit you’re not a babysitter. A babysitter would do a better fucking job! He doesn’t change diapers, he doesn’t cook any meals, he doesn’t give baths. He’ll interact and love on them for sure, but only during the easy parts. Any needs that need to be met are solely my responsibility as a stay at home mom, wife and woman in general.

When Lola is only 5 weeks old I’m sitting up at the Riley Children’s hospital in Indianapolis while Jude’s in surgery getting his first cast on. They’re also doing a spine MRI to check for anomalies that can occur in 25% of infant scoliosis cases. I’m sitting there with Lola and my older son Gianni but my husband is at home. I had to be at the hospital at 5:45am, an hour away from where we live. I had to get all the kids ready and take them with me, I wasn’t even allowed to leave any of the kids with him, mainly because he refuses to care for the newborn. He tells me it’s perfectly fine to just leave them to cry it out in the dark. And if you don’t believe he’d actually do something like that then you’d be like me...until I got out of the shower one day and she had woken up and since I wasn’t there to tend to her he just put her in the dark with the door closed (which we NEVER close all the way because we have a curtain that covers a portion of the doorway). So that he could play his computer game without having to listen to her cry. Because he’s also obsessed with this computer game that he self admittedly loves more then ANYTHING including human beings. Okay so by now I am FUCKING OVER THIS, I know this dude is crazy and I need to get the hell away from him permanently.

I went on a bit of a tangent there for a second and got off my initial subject but let me bring it all together. Jude had a REALLY rough adjustment going into the cast. It was so hard to watch him go through having to relearn how to sit, crawl, stand (he wasn’t walking yet at 15 months because his scoliosis was so bad), but I’m happy to say he started walking finally a few months into the cast because it was forcing his back to be better aligned and have a better center of gravity. And you must be thinking...can it get any worse? Why yes, yes it can. Because we are one of the 25% of infant scoliosis cases that has an anomaly found on the MRI, a Chiari Malformation. The doctor told me and being pretty knowledgeable in the health field I already knew what that was and what that meant. My only words were “Fuck” followed by some unintentional tears. It was just me and the kids again at that appointment an hour away each way. Driving alone. Processing emotions alone. My husband doesn’t go to drs appointments, therapy appointments, even when he was laid off for a month. Not watching any of the kids to help out while I handle Jude’s medical issues, just playing his computer game. He doesn’t even allow me to talk about Jude’s health issues as being stressful or something to overcome.

He becomes extremely lazy and isn’t bringing in anywhere near the financial resources needed just for the bare minimum. I’m thankful for this though because it was the real eye opener. Not only am I with someone who doesn’t help with any of the parenting responsibilities other then the easiest funnest parts, I’m also with someone who can’t even provide basic human needs. Okay, so now im formulating a plan and starting to talk to some of the few support people I could possibly reach out to. But now Jude needs surgery and it’s being scheduled only 2 months out. My older son could finish the school year out shortly after that. I tell myself I need to make it until June and then relocate and get the hell away from this all, that I can put on a good game face and just hustle through this relationship and on to bigger and better things in life in general.

But I can’t make it. Things start escalating pretty quickly again for no particular reason I can think of other then financial stress and his own feelings of inadequacy stemming from that. I also start not being able to hold my tongue as much. I start to disagree more and speak my mind more. But my husband says women aren’t supposed to have a mind of their own. But I don’t really give a fuck what that crazy asshole says/believes/thinks. So repercussions start. I called him a bitch one evening, yes cringe to call a man a “bitch”...that’s why I specifically used that word. But by now can you blame me? well that was a mistake. Shouldn’t have said anything. We were standing in the kitchen, he immediately whipped it out and took a piss on the floor in front of me...I just walked away and went to bed because I know better then to encourage the escalation of very crazy behavior. The next day I needed/wanted to go to the store to get formula and the dishes weren’t done, I wasn’t ready to go when he got there (having no way of knowing exactly what time he will arrive home) and he wanted to punish me for wasting his time so he said he would go to the store instead, because he knows I look forward to getting out of the house (even though I have to take AT LEAST one child with me at ALL times—that’s right, I don’t get time alone...EVER, and definitely not allowed to have anyone watch any of the children. Because obviously that’s solely my job, didn’t you know?). Well he stormed off and I screamed to him outside that his daughter had no formula. He came back an hour later with formula, walked in the door, grabbed the dishwash soap and demanded I open my mouth to be washed out with soap for raising my voice and embarrassing him in front of the neighbors, we literally live in the country middle of nowhere. I didn’t comply, he squirted it ALL OVER my face. And then wouldn’t let me take a shower to wash it out for 45 minutes. Psycho. The next day after I scream to him “I don’t want to be with you either!!!!!” in response to his one millionth time telling me he doesn’t want me or love me because I’m a whore and disgusting for no reason other then disagreeing with him about something he grabs me by the hair and rips me off of the bed I’m sitting on, holding our now 4 month old daughter at the same time. Tells me to put the baby down so he can literally kick me out of the house. I run outside to the car which has the keys in it, lock the car, and with Lola with me I call 911. Jude’s inside with my husband. I rarely ever call the cops because it’s hard to give a background to the situation and his bursts of physical violence aren’t that common (though I mean I think anything more then none is probably uncommon...). While I’m on the phone with dispatch my husband comes out and mouths “I’m going to kill you” as he walks by me locked in the car with our daughter. When he comes back by the car again he’s got the clicker to unlock the car and starts pushing it over and over and over again to let me know if he wanted to he could get in. Its terrifying. The police come out (small town sheriffs department) and tell me that because I have no visible marks they can’t do anything. They tell me if either one of us calls again then we’re both going to jail for disorderly conduct. I looked him straight in the eyes and said “you just told a victim of domestic violence that if she fears for her safety and life that she can’t call 911 without risking going to jail and having no one to watch her three child” and that was that. So when he bit me a few days later to force my 18 month old out of my arms I didn’t call the cops because well who would after all that had occurred.

But I got ready and with the support of some AMAZING women in my life I was able to Uber to a rental car agency with 2/3 of my children, but had to leave Jude behind because my husband would not allow me to take him. I got to the local domestic violence advocate and I got a protective order filed. An exparte temporary protective order was granted hours later, but I wasn’t able to get my son back until a day later. But it was well worth the wait.

I have opportunities to fly and relocate out of state, but unfortunately I need to have Jude’s surgery for his Chiari Malformation by the end of April. I need to attend the hearing for the permanent protective order on the 16th of April. I need a lawyer, a good lawyer, so every step I take is one in the right direction. So that I can make sure this psychopath isn’t able to make any of his threats come true anymore. I need to get through my sons surgery. I need to gain some independence. I need to heal. I need to find something to hold onto. The things that I’ve brought up are just a handful of and landslide of specific examples of abuse I encountered. Just a sliver of what my reality has been the last few years. My self esteem is GONE, my confidence is GONE...it feels like I’m this empty shell of a person. I can hardly remember what I like and what I don’t like anymore because I’ve pretty much just had someone telling me how to change every single day. Slowly chipping away at who I am. I used to be amazing, I used to love myself. Now I don’t know who to be, where to be, how to be...I don’t know what true freedom feels like anymore. I want to get out of Indiana so badly. I’m so desperately trying to take the right steps to not get stuck here in my soon to be ex husbands small town shitty life.