But somehow, I kept going.

I started working from home, writing educational content for websites. It didn’t pay much, but it helped. My days were a blur of diapers, bottles, typing, and tears. There were weeks I barely slept. I sold anything nonessential, skipped meals, and stretched every dollar.

One Tuesday afternoon, I loaded the kids into the minivan for a grocery run. I had calculated everything—down to the last dollar. Milk, bread, rice, a few fruits. Nothing extra. Nothing unnecessary.

But when I got to the checkout, something was wrong.

“That’ll be $72.89,” the cashier said, bored and chewing gum.

I froze. My phone screen showed $62.78.

“There must be a mistake,” I said, already feeling anxious. “Could you check again?”