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broken by the system

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Blurb

This book is a story of pain, resilience, and the unyielding power of a mother’s love. It is about the battle that many families like mine face when they encounter a system that is supposed to protect but, instead, tears them apart. It is a fight against the injustice and flawed processes within the Department of Human Services (DHS), Child Protective Services (CPS), or whatever name it may go by. This is my journey—one mother’s relentless pursuit to reunite her family after it was ripped apart by false accusations and a system drunk on power.

My name is Alyssa Branam

and I am the mother of five beautiful children: Tyler, Peyton, Andre, Dominic, and Lillyanna. My life, once filled with the joys and challenges of raising my kids, took a devastating turn when a DHS caseworker, fueled by a personal vendetta, found the flimsiest of excuses to take four of my children away. This book chronicles the nightmare I’ve lived through—the day my children were taken, the ongoing battle to clear my name, the heartbreak of watching my family being torn apart, and the glimmers of hope that keep me fighting every single day.

It all began with an empty above-ground pool and a caseworker determined to find fault where there was none. My children were playing in our backyard, secured by a 9-foot fence, when the caseworker decided that an empty pool and my momentary absence while I checked on my daughter meant that I was neglecting my kids. Despite having 39 months of sobriety and having proven over and over again that I was fit to care for my children, they were taken from me. The allegations were false, absurd, and rooted in a power struggle rather than in any real concern for my children’s safety. My 13-year-old son, Tyler, remained at home, but Peyton, Andre, Dominic, and Lillyanna were torn from their lives and immediately separated into different foster homes.

The purpose of this book is twofold. First, it is a personal account of my battle with DHS, a journey filled with obstacles, heartbreak, and moments of strength. It is about the everyday struggles I face as a mother fighting to bring my children home—one hour-long visit at a time, one court hearing at a time, one false accusation at a time. But beyond my story, this book also serves as a voice for all the parents and families who have been wronged by a system that often fails to serve the best interests of the children it is supposed to protect. Too many families have been caught in the crosshairs of a flawed system, losing their children not because of real neglect or abuse, but because of technicalities, misunderstandings, or, worse, power trips by those who are supposed to help.

My hope for this book is that it will shine a light on the injustice so many of us face, the emotional and psychological damage it inflicts, and the lengths we must go to in order to be heard and seen by those in power. I want to raise awareness of the deep flaws within DHS and its counterparts across the country. My goal is to inspire change in the way these agencies operate, ensuring that children are not removed from loving homes without due cause and that parents are treated fairly and justly in the process. Above all, my hope is to see my children come home where they belong, and to know that the years we’ve lost will be reclaimed through love, healing, and the power of family.

This is not just my story—it is the story of every parent who has been forced to fight for their children against a system that seems impossible to win against. It is a testament to the resilience of a mother’s love, the strength that can be found in the darkest of times, and the unwavering belief that justice, no matter how long it takes, will eventually prevail.

This is my fight, my journey, and my purpose: to reunite my family and to hold accountable those who have wronged us. I invite you to join me on this path, to walk through the pain, the triumphs, and the hope that one day, my children will come home, and we will be whole again.

Thank you for taking the time to read this book. I hope it will open your eyes, touch your heart, and inspire you to stand with me—and with countless other families—as we fight for justice, truth, and the unbreakable bond of family.

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a mother's love
Before the chaos and the heartbreak, our home was full of love, laughter, and a kind of warmth only a mother could nurture. My five beautiful children—Tyler, Peyton, Andre, Dominic, and Lillyanna—were the center of my world. Each of them had their own unique personality, their own light that brightened even the darkest days. We weren't perfect, but we were happy. That’s what mattered most.Tyler, my eldest, was wise beyond his years. At 13, he had taken on the role of protector, always looking out for his younger siblings, especially when things got tough. He was the one I could rely on when things felt overwhelming, and his maturity sometimes made me forget just how young he still was. Peyton, my lively 10-year-old, was always full of energy. His laughter filled every corner of the house, and he never hesitated to jump in and help me with whatever I needed. His heart was as big as his spirit.Andre, though quieter than the others, had a gentle soul. At 9, he preferred to observe and listen, and his sensitivity made him attuned to everyone’s feelings. Dominic, my curious 8-year-old, constantly asked questions about the world. He had a playful nature that kept me on my toes, always looking for new ways to challenge him. And then there was Lillyanna, my baby girl. At only 3 years old, she was the sunshine of our family. Her laugh could light up the darkest room, and her innocence reminded me of the beauty in the simple things.I had worked so hard to rebuild my life after the struggles I had faced. Sobriety wasn’t an easy road, but I walked it every day for them. 39 months clean and counting. Every decision I made was for their well-being, every sacrifice was to give them the life they deserved. They were my strength and my purpose. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was ours. We made the best of every day, even when things were tough. And I was proud of the family I had built, a family that loved and supported one another through thick and thin.But as I stood in the kitchen that day, preparing dinner and listening to my children play in the backyard, I couldn’t have known that the joy and peace we had created were about to be shattered. I couldn’t have known that someone, a stranger with power over our lives, would step in and tear us apart. I couldn’t have known that our love, which had carried us through so much already, would be tested in ways I never imagined.

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