I was born in the year of 1989 in late August, in the state of Kentucky. I was born into a family of 3 sisters and 1 half-brother. Both of my parents done drugs and drank all the time. Not even during her pregnancy, did my mother take caution.
A couple of months before I was born, my mother took Turpentine to try to abort me. Of course she failed. She was a rather crazy woman. Everyone knew it. Mental illness had run in the family on her side. Alcohol, drugs, and suicide. All 6 of us lived in a run down trailer and my parents lived on welfare. It was a miracle my sisters weren't taken away. Anyways, on the day I was born, I was 2 months early and only 2 pounds 4 ounces. I died 2 times right after birth and am lucky to be alive.
We had about 8 cousins who were aware of the situation. My grandmother had a half-sister. That half-sister, took an interest in keeping me on the weekends. She was 27 yrs old, and her husband was 30 yrs old. They had been married since 1985. Both were very responsible. For about 3 months they kept me on the weekends. Then they got really attached to me. It got harder for them to take me back. So they decided they wanted to adopt me. Of course my biological father did not like the idea. He tried everything under the sun, to keep the adoption from happening. The worst thing he did was tell the courts I had Native American blood. Thank God, they thought him to be crazy and a liar.
After the courts found out I wasn't being properly taken care of, they sought my adoption as well. It was my biological grandmother that convinced her son to give me up. Finally he agreed and both parents signed the paper reluctantly. It was one battle won.