Where I Come From

December 7th, 1995. For most people, it would have been a normal day. For a woman named Julie, who lived in a small town in Indiana, it was the day that her second daughter would be born. The curly haired, mother of soon-to-be two kids felt back pain for hours before even thinking anything about it being time to have the baby. She would go into labor in the afternoon, and her 6 pound 14 ounce baby would be born at 5:42 pm. If you heard her talk about it now, she would say that her most stubborn daughter had to be born on the coldest day of that year in the middle of a snow storm. 

Julie had only one person to help her throughout her entire pregnancy and delivery; her mother. Sandy was quite a lady. She could walk into a room and change the mood everyone in it based on hers. She was short in stature but made up for it with her big personality. She was not afraid to say what was on her mind, while Julie was more conservative about her feelings... unless they were tears. Julie could cry at anything; happy or sad. And many tears were shed when, after three hours of pushing, her baby girl was born.

That baby girl was me. I was given the name Jessa. I fit in with my mom and older sister because our names were, Julie, Jamie, and Jessa. A few years later, another "J" name would be added but we aren't there yet. 

My mom lived with grandma Sandy for a while before I was born. She had a hard time getting back on her feet after her husband of two years took off and never looked back. That was Jamie's dad. I've never met the man, but from what I was told, Bill was better off not knowing. He left when she was two and when I was born she was four and a half.

It was only us for a while. The house we lived in was large enough for everyone. It was a three bedroom, one bathroom house. It was the only green house on the block. We only had neighbors on one side and they were an elderly couple. The other side was where the laundromat was. Across the street was a building you could rent out for parties. It was usually pretty quiet, unless the parties across the street would get out of hand, which rarely happened.

During the day so mom could work and grandma could sleep, we went to a babysitter down the street. She was a terrible woman. She looked after a few kids and she was mean to each one. I was under two years old when I was spanked and slapped for not wanting to take a nap. Thankfully, after that, all of my babysitters were great and caring.

The spring after my second birthday, my mom bought the trailer that she, Jamie, and I lived in for the next ten years.

Author's Note

These chapter will probably be short. The newer more recent ones will probably be longer because they are the freshest in my memory.