Italay’s Story

Most mornings, Italay woke up before her children, not because she had to be somewhere early, but because she needed a moment to think. That moment came in the front seat of a parked car, watching her breath fog the windshield, while five children slept behind her. This was not how she imagined motherhood.

Italay, age 32, single-handedly parents her five children. Every decision, every step she has taken, has been for the well-being of her kids.

“I’ve always had my kids,” Italay says. “No matter where I was, where I was going, what I was doing, they were always with me.” 

Italay was born and raised in Denver, Colorado. Her early years were marked by instability, abuse, and trauma that no child should have to endure. Italay experienced physical and verbal abuse fueled by alcohol addiction. “My uncle molested me when I was younger. And, my father molested my brother,” Italay shares.

“That abuse made me really uncomfortable with my body,” she says. “I didn’t know how to properly receive love.”

Her parents divorced when she was young, and childhood became a series of transitions—between caregivers, households, and families within the foster care system.

As a teenager, Italay longed for stability and connection. At 14, she became pregnant, and her first child was born while she was still living with foster parents. Knowing she could not provide the care her child deserved at that time, she chose adoption. The weight of that loss stayed with Italay through her teenage years and into adulthood, shaping how she saw herself, how she entered relationships, and how she tried to survive.

“I thought I had to use my body to get someone to love me,” Italay shares. “Now that I’m older, I realize I get to choose how I’m loved. I don’t have to settle for toxicity. … My trauma didn’t make me want to be worse,” she says. “It made me want to be better.”

While still in high school, Italay became pregnant with another child, yet remained determined to earn her diploma. She gave birth to her son just days before turning 18 and graduating. In the years that followed, she balanced motherhood, work, and school—often with limited support—eventually earning a bachelor’s degree in psychology from Colorado Christian University. During this time, she also spent periods living with her grandmother, whose stability and support helped care for the children.

“I am proud,” she says. “I graduated, even after everything I went through.”

Her education became more than an achievement; it was also a step in her healing. She sought to understand trauma, mental health, and the forces that had shaped her family.

She experienced another profound loss when, as a young mother, she gave birth to a son with a serious heart condition. Tragically, he passed away in infancy. She stuffed the searing pain of this traumatic loss deep into her heart and kept moving forward, determined that pain would not define the rest of her story.

By her late twenties, Italay was raising five children largely on her own. She worked multiple jobs, often choosing work-from-home opportunities so she could remain present with her children. “I didn’t want to miss the walking and the talking,” she said. “I didn’t want to miss anything.”

In 2022, following the death of her grandmother, the one person who grounded her when everything else felt unstable, Italay reached a breaking point. She prayed for direction. “I asked God to direct my path,” she says. “And I heard Him say, ‘Get up and go to Iowa.’” She had never been to Iowa. She didn’t know anyone there. But she prepared the best she could, packed her children into the car, and drove. “I just got up and went,” she said.

For a time, things were stable. Italay worked. Her kids were housed. She kept going.

But in 2024, the fragile stability Italay had worked years to build began to unravel. After the death of her brother, she decided not to renew her lease and traveled back to Colorado with her kids. They stayed for two months to grieve with and support her family, planning to return to Iowa and secure new housing. But during that time, the safety nets she relied on began to disappear. Work opportunities fell through, income stopped, expenses piled up, and the financial cushion she had built was quickly exhausted. When she returned to Iowa, she and her children had nowhere to go. 

What began as short-term solutions—hotels, temporary shelter stays, sleeping in their vehicle—slowly became a reality she could not escape. Despite working multiple jobs and doing everything she could to keep her family afloat, Italay and her children were homeless.

“I was homeless with my kids for 16 months,” she says.

Homelessness for Italay didn’t look the way many people imagine. She made sure her children went to school every day, even if they were sometimes late. She washed their clothes weekly. She braided their hair. She always made sure they had food and snacks. “I did the best I could with what I had,” she said.

Italay and her children lived in their Ford Explorer. “The boys slept in the back. The girls slept in the middle. I slept in the front,” she explained. “Living in a car during winter is traumatizing,” she said. “You don’t want it too hot. You don’t want it too cold. You’re always afraid.”

What hurt most wasn’t just the physical exhaustion of living in a vehicle; it was the shame. “It was embarrassing. My kids were scared their friends would find out we were homeless. That hurt more than anything,” she said. 

While homeless, Italay found out about Joppa. “Primary Health Care referred me to Joppa for mail,” she said. And over time, more help came. Joppa became a consistent point of connection. Italay checked her mail there. She shopped at Thriftmart, Joppa’s thrift store next door, finding clothes, shoes, and necessities for her kids.

The turning point came when Italay tried, again, to move into housing—and was denied because of an old bill on her credit. “That bill stopped everything,” she said. 

Joppa stepped in and helped pay off that debt, securing her housing approval. “Without Joppa, I would not be here in this apartment with my children,” she says. “I would probably still be homeless.”

Today, Italay and her children are housed. Through Joppa’s Aftercare program, support continues as stability grows. “Joppa comes every Sunday,” she says. “Groceries, hygiene, things that really help. It feels like a support system you didn’t know you needed.”

Italay is now working steadily and setting new goals. She’s preparing physically and mentally to apply for the police academy—something she once couldn’t imagine. “I spent all of my twenties in school, being a single mom, really not being able to focus on me. So now I get to use my thirties for me.”