After a night of drinking with my friends, I stopped by a casino a block from my house to gamble a bit before I went home. I was wasted and trying to talk the bartender into selling me a beer after hours. He pointed across the bar and told me that the guy sitting over there had beer. I went over and talked him into bringing his beer to my house. I did not know he had a girlfriend, or what kind of person he was, but I invited him into my home. That is how I met the father of my daughters.
Within a month or 2 I was pregnant. He moved in because he thought it was the right thing to do. I let him because I thought I couldn’t do it alone. We were both wrong. The entire pregnancy was terrible for me. He rarely came home and when he did he was wasted. At this point I found out about his girlfriend, and was blamed for breaking them up. He cheated on me regularly. I lived in a constant cloud of depression. He always promised me that when the baby got here, he would quit drinking. I believed him. On the day I went into labor, he was hungover. I had to drive myself to the hospital because he didn’t have a drivers licence. She was born on July 8, 2002. Sweet baby Kayla.
After she was born, the drinking didn’t stop. Things kept getting worse between him and I. We moved a 3 times in her first 9 months of life. At the third place, the dam finally broke. The bartender called me, as he had a million times before, to tell me that my boyfriend was out of control and I needed to come get him. In the past I would have, but this time I said no. He walked home and was furious. He choked me, kicked me and punched me, all without any memory of it. The night before finals and waking up our daughter. The next morning, I took Kayla to daycare and went to school. After my final, I went to a friends and called the cops. He went to jail.
About a month after he was gone, the letters started rolling in. He was sorry. He was done drinking. He loved me. After 9 months of him being in jail, I took him back. We weren’t happy. We were roommates. On January 28, 2006, Shorty was born. Little miss Adriah Rose.
Things kept going bad for him and I. We brought the worst out of each other. I stayed because I thought the girls and I needed him. I was wrong again. I divorced him. The whole relationship and divorce were brutal. Depressing. Scary. But getting away from each other improved all of our lives. I get to raise two of the most amazing girls in the world. I would go through that a million times knowing that they are the prize. And that, is how I met my girls.