I was made a mother at the age of 23. At that time life was still a fairytale to me. I pictured my life consisting of waking my family up with the smell of homemade baked pies every Sunday morning, making all homemade baby food picked from a garden that I tended to daily, and planning for holidays months in advance. In reality, I found myself divorced and all alone with a baby by the time Madelyn was two years old. I grew up always dreaming of becoming a mother and dreaming of the fairytale life that most women dreamt of; finding a loving husband who would be your first and last love and raising a model family that you see in movies with picket white fences. What I got was the complete opposite. What I got was real life.