Personal Narrative: How My Baby Changed My Life

Becoming a mother changed my life in a very profound way. Due to my own upbringing, I was

A new year had just arrived. I can still picture January in my mind, the mood was sullen and dark, I could feel the cold reaching my bones, but now I know that was the best feeling I‘d ever had. I had only a few weeks left to start college, which had been my dream since I can remember. My dad had already paid for my tuition, I was so exited I had promised to do my best. Then, I realized there was an obstacle in my way. I knew I needed to make a decision on whether or not keeping my pregnancy, it sounds rough, but it was definitive. I did not want to miss school, so I was definitely not taking this to the last term. I just could not think of myself being prostrated in bed for so long, as an impediment to start school. Never, nothing would

Hey Nandi, just letting you know that you're a really amazing person. Honestly you're a unique person there is no other person I could meet on the planet that could out weight your personality. I've decided that since the day I was born, BAM, mother-child bond. You've always been a strong woman you've done everything from working two jobs, to go our every school events, and handling our family problems. You're extremely happy even in bad situations and your not afraid to show us discipline that has an impact. You're a woman of few words but when you do open your mouth something extraordinary comes out. You fight for us, love us, your kind to all people, help raise strong people by putting reality in front of us since we were little. The most valuable lesson you've taught me so far is, life's going to be extremely difficult at times but you have to be strong, because you are strong, you can fight, and if you go down swinging better make worth your while. Couldn't ask for a better woman in my life.

“Kathleen, your mother and I need to talk to you.” For any thirteen year old, these words instantly send a shock through your body. I repeatedly asked, “Am I in trouble?”

My prenatal development was normal. There were not any concerns or worries about my development. My mom had a fairly normal pregnancy other than preeclampsia. Preeclampsia is a medical condition in women who have not experienced high blood pressure, and developed in during a pregnancy (Preeclampsia and Eclampsia, 2016). High protein levels in urine and swelling of the hands, legs and feet are other symptoms of preeclampsia. My mom had an ultrasound at fourteen weeks. She did not have any other testing like an amniocentesis or chorionic villus sampling. It was unnecessary.

On a chilly Wednesday on January 14 of the year 1998, I, an eight pounds, six ounces baby, was born. My mom and dad were in bed at ten the night before, and it was decided that the time was now, for her water broke and they were on their way to the hospital. I was dark haired and brown eyed, and my mom wanted to name me after her, but dad decided on the name Jolene, with a pronunciation twist and his own spelling.

From the moment I was born people already had opinions on how my life would turn out. Shoutout to the doctor who told the group of interns that I was gonna die in the icu without knowing my mother could hear him. Days after being born that so called medical professional was certain I would die before my first birthday. I am certain there are scientists willing to bet that because I was born three months premature, I have some sort of birth defect or disability. The American society must be pissed off knowing that small BLACK baby didn’t die and went on to be healthy and a leader and unafraid to speak my mind.

I remember when I decided to exclusively pump for my son. I had struggled with nursing him in the three weeks since he’d been born, and we’d been going to the doctor every few days for a weight check, because he still wasn’t back up to his birth weight.

My parents would describe infant me as adventurous,happy,full of energy. When I was younger I had a habit of crawling out of the crib and opening doors and my have tried to invite the mail man in a few times. When I was just learning to walk I would always open the front door when the mailman came or when my grandma thought I had ran away because I had opened multiple doors in the house and later found me playing in the backyard and later would by door knob locks to keep me from opening the doors, I believe I may have been 3 or 4 years old at the time. My favorite stuffed animal was this light brown monkey with a darker face, brown marble eyes that my mom had gotten me when she took me to the Toledo zoo when I was 4 years old I used to take

It’s August 13, 1975. Mom left the house 2 days ago, and she came back today with a new baby. He doesn’t look like a newborn, he has none of my parents features, and well he looks kind of weird. But, I guess I have really never seen a newborn and I mean the kids at school call me weird so maybe we are exactly the same. I can tell from the start that we are going to be great friends, but I just can’t help it when he cries I get so annoyed. It’s like he is doing it on purpose. Mom and Dad left the house a few minutes after they got home and I didn’t see them for another 5 days. All I heard from them was, “ There is food in the fridge. Should be enough to last you a few days. Take care of this one. Lord knows we don’t need any more trouble than we are already in.” How could they just leave me here with this annoying little brat? lts evident that Mom and Dad don’t care about me or my little brother.

I am a completely different person now than I was back when I was 4 years old. I will do my best to make this long story short.

Two years have passed since I saw that note on his pillow. Two years of misery, two years of non-stop searching, two years of unanswered questions. Sometimes I think I see him; Sitting next to an older lady on the subway, Sitting in the corner in the coffee shop, or even leaning on one of the lampposts in 5th street. But it never fails, I move to see if it’s him, hoping it’s my husband.. but it’s not. It never is, no one is in that seat, no one is leaning on the lamppost. My husband is a ghost.

Tick, tick, tick, was the sound I heard. As I reach over to the night stand that is on my side I swipe my smart phone to dismiss the 4:15am alarm that wakes me up every morning. I lay there allowing my body to wake up and I pray and thank God for another day, for life, health and strength. I thank you for allowing me to do today what some people are begging you to allow them to do today. I strength my body out while still lying in bed. Justin, shifts his body and his face and chest is now facing the door. I sit up on the edge of the bed then looks over my right shoulder, I hear him snoring and thought. He truly has no remorse for what he has done. He hasn’t lost any sleep and he still keeps his phone close to him. I wouldn’t be surprised

Eve?” Armani called into the small room, opening the door. Evangeline laid on a pile of blankets, their back turned to the door. “You okay?” He asked. Evangeline didn’t respond. “Well, I know what today is, and I hate to bother you like this, but there are six human newbies and they need you.” Armani said quietly.

"Are you sure you don't want to come babe? There are going to be games and food and everyone's going to be there. It will be fun." "Mom, I'm fine. I'll stay and finish cleaning. Go. Go have fun with your friends." I say pushing her out the front door. "Okay well, call me if you need anything. I don't think I'm going to stay that long. When I get back we can have that movie night I promised." "Have fun at the barbecue. Bye mom. I love you." Before getting into her old gray pick-up truck, she waves to me and blows me a kiss.