We started from the bottom ...

So, at 19, I was committed to having this baby. Not too long after I told James and he had said he was "all in", did he lose his job with a well known tractor trailer tire company in Arizona. With no money coming in, it was decided that he had to go back to where he came from, Independence, Missouri.

To me, Missouri sounds a lot like misery, and that was how I came to feel about it. Independence was one of the most popular cities to film episodes of "Cops" in, pretty much the opposite of actual independence. So, James took off for MO while I finished my second semester. The plan for me was to move when the semester was done, at the beginning of December. My parents were extremely disappointed in the choices I was making, in the situation I got myself into, and extremely frustrated that I wouldn't consider other options. There was limited to no contact between us. While I could have gone back home at that point, I did not see the #purpose given my perceived lack of insight and understanding, knowing that I would be pressured to make a much different choice.

Around November, before I headed to MO, my father flew out to Arizona to take the car they had purchased for me to have at school. He gave me a hug at the front door, I handed him the keys, told him where it was, closed the door, and sat down on the couch. The #truth is, my heart was broken because I was doing something I believed in and they didn't, I wasn't #willing to give up no matter who left my side, and knew how #isolated I was about to be, given the state of the relationship I had with my parents.

In December of 2006, I moved from Tempe, Arizona to Independence, Missouri. I flew in and was picked up by a woman who was friends of the family. She took me back to her house until James could pick me up after work. She offered me grits, which I politely declined. Whether I knew it or not, at the time, I was in a state of culture shock like nothing I had ever felt before. The woman's daughter was in high school, and since she was pregnant, was attending the high school's pregnancy school. Coming from where I grew up, that was totally ridiculous. It meant there were so many teenage girls pregnant year over year they had to create a separate school within the school for them. #Teenagepregnancy was not a "thing" back home, it wasn't

accepted. When it happened it was the longest standing gossip topic out there. For the umpteenth time, I was again labeled the Black Sheep, and worse. If I'm being honest, that was part of the reason I didn't want to go back to where I grew up.

James came and picked me up to take me to our new "home". While we're in the car, my father calls. He had driven out to Missouri from Connecticut to talk me into going back with him, instead of staying where I was. He wanted to meet, and having briefly seen the house we would be living in, I knew it couldn't be there. My father got a hotel room, and James' father was going to meet us there. They made it before we did, so they introduced themselves and sat in silence. Our dad's were total opposites. James' didn't have a parental bone in his body, or a care for anyone other than himself. My father was an amazing parent, and did his best to help others anytime he could. The meet and greet went bad immediately when James' dad said, "Ya know ... I told him to get a paternity test. Who knows whether its his or not." My dad didn't have a second to respond, because James did it for him, "She's not like other girls, Dad. Come on. She's a Yankee, she's smart, she would never cheat on me, she's not a whore." My father asked me to step outside to speak with him. I don't remember the conversation except that I continuously said, "No!" to going home with him. He left, without me, and I wouldn't wind up speaking to my parents for a number of months, my reality appeared to be too much for them.

We went back to our "home". It had two bedrooms, a TV room, and a kitchen. It belonged to one of James' father's many girlfriends. She was a nasty woman, rude and mean. Her son was the father of the pregnant girl's baby I had just met earlier. He was a snake. The house was dirty, the kitchen appeared to have never been cleaned. The refrigerator was full of old food. The kitchen table was covered with paperwork. The den had couches that likely had never been cleaned and were probably covered in all sorts of disgusting human secretions. Everyone smoked inside. Our bedroom was the size of a closet, with a twin bed, and a bunch of random shit stored in it. I lived out of my suitcase.

I spent every day alone while James went to work and the owner went to work. I had no means of transportation, because James purchased a Chevy Cavalier for $500 before I got there, and it was stick. He tried to teach me, but got so mad at my inability to do it right, he stopped. Sometimes the owner's son's girlfriend would come over, and sometimes just he would be there. All they ever did was ask questions about James. They would tell me stories, ones I really did not want to hear, about how he was not a good choice because he did "A, B & C". I hated it, I was uncomfortable and it was hard to listen to on a regular basis. As if I wasn't scared enough given the fact that I could barely take care of myself, and now there was going to be a baby. Now they added more shit to the pile, and I had to keep going and try to erase it from my mind. I couldn't tell him either, given his track record of #violence, it wouldn't have been good for anyone.

I was really adamant that James and I had to get out of there, but my opinion wasn't always welcomed. The son and his girlfriend found an apartment in North Kansas City and invited us to split it with them, so we all moved in there. The rent was less than $500, it had two large bedrooms, a bathroom, large den, a place for a dining table, and a small but efficient kitchen. There was a pool and walking paths on the grounds. The only downfall was that we were on the 3rd floor walkup, and the laundry building was down the stairs, around the back, and situated right next to the pool.

Honestly, anything was better than where we were, seriously. I didn't feel safe there, I was constantly in a state of panic, and the house was so disheveled and dirty it was depressing, and I was barely able to leave ever. To keep this apartment, James had to maintain employment, so I was always worried, because it was the only money coming in, and we had no support from anyone else. I found #peace in the fact that James and I were able to get out of the previous house, that he was doing well at work, and we were affording our lifestyle. He didn't grow up getting whatever he wanted, he grew up getting whatever he needed, and often times, not even that. We didn't want for much, I just so badly wanted this to work. I wanted him to want it to work. I wanted him to continue to do the responsible thing, and not get caught up in the ugly side of Independence/Kansas City that was sure to break us down.

"Your faith can move mountains but don't be surprised if they crumble into a pile of rocks."