When I was pregnant with my second child, I became very ill and could not do anything without feeling like I had climbed a mountain. I was so fatigued and felt so bad that I decided to give her to my friends to raise. I knew that she would be hurt by my decision to give her up. I made sure that she would know that I am her mother, and that I did it so she could have a better life with two parents that loved her very much. On the day after she was born, they brought her to me and I held her and talked to her about the life she would have with them versus me. I told her how much I loved her and hoped she would one day see that I did it for her because I love her, and how I hoped she would forgive me. I could not give up my son because he was already two, and I was not going to rip my own heart out again. My family had to take care of my son for me until I got better. My health was bad, and I ended up in the emergency room with optic neuritis. They did all kinds of tests and told me I either had a brain tumor close to the nerve of my left eye, or multiple sclerosis. After a long bout with steroids for the inflammation, and more tests, they confirmed it was MS. Two years after my daughter was born, I got pregnant again and I decided that if I didn’t keep this one, I would not have made it without trying to take my own life. Going through that hurt more than any one of the painful diseases I have. Being diagnosed with MS, fibromyalgia, and lumbar disk disease, all by the ripe old age of twenty-three, has been a cakewalk compared to the hole in my heart. I can definitely say that God has helped me through it because of all the times when I hurt bad enough physically, mentally, or emotionally that I was in tears, he was always there to take it from me and help me get through it.