Developing Child Paper

Chaos, total chaos! That's what my life has been, what it's always been, and I guess that's what it will always be. To tell you the truth, I really can't complain, I have a good life, I mean, it hasn't always been easy, but I wouldn't change it for the world, or anything else for that matter. Well, it's a long story, so I guess I should start from the beginning.

I was jaded early on in my life and was extremely mature for my own age ( sometimes it got the better of me ). My family life had pretty much destroyed any chance of normalcy in my life. My parents almost divorced when I was five, but mediation led then to wait three years. My father was a raging alcoholic that became abusive and let the alcohol consume his life. He lost two businesses to bankruptcy, and my mother was forced to work as a bartender to all hours of the night. The stress, tension, abuse, and loss of love, was felt not only by my mother, but also by her eight-year-old daughter.

As time went on, we were on a first name basis with the police officers that came to our house every night. They finally made us leave one night at 2 A.M. and told us never to come back. Of course after many court orders, my brother and I were forced to live with our abusive alcoholic father, due to our mother's poor socio-economic status. We were exposed to sex, drugs, and alcohol at an early age, and luckily for us, we had no desire to mix with any of it. At eight years old, I was forced to raise myself and my six-year-old brother, who had slight learning disabilities due to a birth defect. I cooked, cleaned, did laundry, my schoolwork, and helped my brother. It was a rough time considering most young children, like us, desired nothing more but to be with our mother. I lived a very interesting life, and had been exposed to many adult situations. I knew about lawyers and courts, sex and drugs, social services, and everything else in between. I was forbidden to speak with any of my childhood friends due to my father's paranoia that their parents might report him to child services. He spent all of his money on booze, so we didn't have many toys to play with, or friends for that matter, but I found sanity in my schoolwork. I was a good kid, I was only a child, but I felt as though I were an adult, considering the circumstances.

I wasn't "normal" because of my personal situation, and I was far beyond my years, and because of that, I had a difficult time making friends and fitting in. I really didn't get to do the normal kid stuff, but I learned to adapt. By the time I reached Jr. High, I had some good friends and things started to even out in my life. As I entered high school, I found life to be even better. I was playing sports, making friends, and getting good grades. I really liked it, and I really began to notice boys.

I met Michael my freshman year in algebra class, and he was a year older than I. We became instant friends as we had a lot in common. At the time, I was dating a boy on his baseball team, who was junior. We talked a lot about my so-called relationship with this guy and Michael thought I should be with someone who appreciated me for who I really was. The relationship didn't last long anyways. I was too old for my age and I knew that my past experiences had molded me into the person I was, and that I couldn't change that. I had friends and many acquaintances, but few of them knew about my past, the ones that did, understood me and my actions, the rest were ignorant and not worth my time.

Michael began to be around more and more and then I became suspicious. Of course, when confronted, he shared his everlasting devotion to me. I couldn't believe it and really didn't want to. I mean, he was practically my knight in shinning armor, and it was too hard to believe this fairy tale was coming true for me, after all the hard luck I've had in my life.

Michael and I were quite the item, high school sweethearts. He was great to me, as I was to him, and we were in love. He graduated a year earlier than I and took a job as a welder making decent money. I had a high school job waitressing at a small coffee shop. I hated my job and working while trying to go to school, but I knew I had to work in order to pay for college. My family was barely getting by as it was, so I knew I was going to have to pay for my own education. My mother had the best job she had ever had, and with my father being out of our lives for about seven years, she was content with her long time boyfriend. Michael was always welcome in our home and towards the end of my senior year; he began to occasionally spend the night.

I graduated the first week of June that year and Michael romantically proposed to me two weeks later. We couldn't afford a big wedding so we had a very small ceremony. We were saving our money to move into an old backhouse of my grandmother's. We were happy, very young, and very stupid.

Before we were married, we had spent every night with each other. It was soon after we moved into our new home that I realized things were not right with me. I kept my job as a waitress and Michael worked long hours at the welding shop. I was getting tired a lot more than usual and when I went to the doctor, the news was surprising- I was pregnant. Of course I began to panic. We could barely afford to pay our bills and our parents told us we were on our own once we moved out. Of course this didn't faze us because we were both rather mature for our age and we knew we could handle anything. For the first time in my life, after always feeling too old, at 17, I didn't feel old enough.

Michael took the news rather well. He was excited for our first child together. However, our parents had a different spin on the situation. My mother was disappointed because I would not be able to attend college, but it was her first grandchild, so she was excited. Michael's parents had been divorced for ten years and they didn't speak to his father. His mother was excited but was very adamant about letting us know what a rugged road we had ahead of us. Neither of our families had a lot of money and although they expressed their apologies, we were already aware of the facts.

As the months went on, they got longer and much harder. I was forced to quit my job because I was constantly getting sick and my boss was not as understanding as I had hoped. Michael was working as much overtime as possible and was rarely home. The financial burden became more and more stressful on both of us. I had been very independent my entire life and now I was forced to rely on someone else. Michael was feeling the burden of knowing he had to make more money, and the havoc of mid month pregnancy was strong and