When the babies arrived—Ella, Noah, Grace, Liam, and Ava—our hearts were full. Sleep-deprived, yes, but filled with a kind of love I can’t describe. Jack would cradle two in his arms while I fed the others, and we’d often exchange tired smiles over the crying.

Our little family felt complete.

But then… it all fell apart.

Jack was driving home one rainy evening after picking up diapers when a truck slid through a red light and hit his car. I got the call at 10:03 PM.

Just like that, he was gone.

I won’t sugarcoat it—I broke. The grief was paralyzing. I had five babies under 2 years old and no idea how to do this without him. The nights were the hardest, sitting in the rocking chair alone, trying to keep my sobs quiet so I wouldn’t wake them.