Support Aubry's Journey to Her Daughter's Graduation

Help Me Get to My Daughter’s Graduation After 12 Years Apart

Hi, my name is Aubry, and I’m reaching out with a mother’s plea for something that means more to me than words can say.

On November 25th, 2012, I said goodbye to my daughter and her brother in a parking lot after a supervised visit. She was in kindergarten, full of light and innocence, holding a piece of paper she had colored just for me. I didn’t know it would be the last time I’d see her for over 12 years.

This was our last visit—November 25th, 2012. The day I said goodbye to my daughter and her brother, not knowing it would be the last time I saw them for over a decade.

Shortly after that visit, I lost custody of both of them to DCFS. Her brother’s maternal grandmother adopted them. I spent the next several years lost, broken, and trying to survive the immense pain of losing my children. I was homeless at times, dealing with addiction, and struggling in ways that made it hard to hold on to hope. I missed birthdays, scraped knees, bedtime stories. I missed her entire childhood.

I carry those missed years with me every day. But over the last year and a half, I’ve changed everything. I got healthy. I’ve started seeing my younger son more regularly, and just over a month ago, I regained custody of my youngest baby girl.

When she was born, I had another open DCFS case due to the state I was in at the time. That case is now officially closed—successfully. Getting her back brought up a flood of trauma and deep-rooted pain I had buried since losing my older daughter and her brother 12 years ago. But it also reminded me how far I’ve come, and how much I’ve fought to become the mother I am now.

I’ve stayed on my path, rebuilt my life, and for the first time in years, I feel ready—ready to reconnect, to begin healing, and to show my oldest daughter the version of me I’ve worked so hard to become.

A few weeks ago, her adoptive grandmother reached out and invited me to her high school graduation. The little girl I held in my arms that day in 2012 is now a young woman, preparing to walk across a stage in her cap and gown.

The last picture I ever took of her—walking away in a cold parking lot after our final visit in 2012. I watched her go, not knowing if I’d ever see her again. This moment has lived in my heart every day since.

My beautiful daughter at her senior prom. I didn’t get to do her hair, help pick out her dress, or take photos as she walked out the door… but I hope with everything in me that I can be there to see her walk across that graduation stage.

I live across the country and can’t afford the cost of the trip on my own. I’m humbly asking for help to raise $1,200 to cover travel, lodging, and food so I can be there—so I can witness this moment that I’ve dreamed of for 12 long years.

I know I’ve made mistakes. But I’ve also made progress. I’ve done the hard work, and now I just need the chance to show up—not just physically, but as the mother I’ve fought so hard to become.

If you’ve ever believed in second chances, or know the pain of a mother separated from her child, I ask you to help me get there. To anyone who donates, shares, or simply reads my story—thank you from the bottom of my heart.

With love,

Aubry