So, I am now 17 years old and have never had a date per say. I was set up on a blind date with a guy named Nick, well it fell through. So, it was a friday afternoon and I was going to a Blondie concert that night with some friends when my girlfriend Bonnie called and said that the blind date was for that night. I gave up the Blondie concert and went on the date, what a mistake. Hindsight is 20/20 for sure. Well, we went to a bar, (I had fake ID and the Nick was 3 years older than I) and Bonnies date was an idiot. We ended up thrown out of the bar by the bouncers and I went home. Nick said he would like a second date and we could pretend the first one did not count since it was so aweful. I bit.

So, I am not going to go into heavy details, but now I am dating Nicky. A 6ft tall, body builder, dark skin, blue eyed, blonde haired Italian. What a dream right. He was aweful. He was a momma's boy like I have never seen the likes of. All he ever told me about was his ex girlfriend named Janice and how she was gorgeous and she was perfect for him and how his mother loved her. Well, next thing I find out is I am pregnant. I was panicked, I was a catholic, abortion was out cause it was murder. My mother was going to kill me. I told my Mother and was put out of my house, while being pushed to marry him. I was not to resistant to the idea because I wanted away from my sister anyway. So, I lived with Nick and then we got married by the Justice of the Peace, of course we could not have a church wedding, we had sinned. Both our parents made that clear. Nicky cheated on me from day 1, or should I say before day 1. Nick was also very domineering and would force me to do things sexually that I never even knew existed. Nick did not care if he hurt me, if I bled, did not matter, as long as he was satisfied. Nick never hit me, but he hit the dog Kimba. I warned him not to hit her, I was losing it. Well, one day he hit her and I called the Police, they wrote him a ticket is all. He was pissed. I told him that I had warned him not to hit the dog. Nick put down my body, my boobs were too saggy. Why do you have wrinkles in your forhead. Constant belittling me. Well, my contractions started one night, we were watching Deliverance. He would not leave the movie to take me to the hospital. So, my mom took me. I was so unprepared for the pain and Angie was sunny side up so it was a hard birth. I took medicine for the pain and they had a forcep delivery. I woke up in Recovery and Nick was not there yet. Why, he was with his mom. Well, he showed up about 10 p.m and brought me a burger king. Then looked at the baby and went home to bed.

The next day I was holding Angie and she had the hiccups. The nurse looked at her and took her from me and seemed panicked. I knew something was wrong. My mother arrived for a visit and began bitching at me about a used condom that she had found in her basement couch and my sister told her it had to be me. Well, I told my mom, Hello does it look like we used condoms, we were here with a baby weren't we. I never used one before. Just my sister being a bitch, trying to ruin my event. Nothing new. Then the nurse came in and said that they had drawn blood from the baby for its blood gases. She advised that the baby was turning blue and something was wrong. The nurse further advised that there was a Pediatric Cardiologist looking her over. Well, this all went very fast. The Doctor came to me and advised that she would need to be flown to St. Francis Heart Hospital. He further advised that every baby is born with a whole in their heart and it closes within the first twenty four hours. This allowed her blood to mix. Well, hers was closing and she had a disorder called "Transposition of the Great Artery/Vessels". They were going to have to give her an experimental drug called "Prostoglandens" to keep the hole from closing for now and I would have to sign to give permission or she would die. I signed. They told me that she was going to have an emergency procedure called a "balloon Systosomy" and rip the wall of her heart out to allow the blood to mix. Essentially her Aorta was where her Pulomanary Artery was and vice Versa. Meaning Red blood was going to the lungs and Blue blood was going to the body, she was dying. The next thing I remember was the flight crew had her in an incubator thing and brought her to my room to say goodbye. I had over a hundred stitches in my lower region as they had to cut me from stem to stern and into the rectum to get her out during birth. I begged to go with her. They said I was not stable enough physically. So, everyone left and headed to the other hospital. I continued to beg for them to let me go. No dice. So, I made my bed real nice and called a friend to meet me in the parking lot, told her if she would not take me home, I would walk, so she came. I snuk out and headed to my house to try and find normal clothes that would fit as I had gained weight. My feet were still swollen and I could not fit in my shoes as I had Toxemia during pregnancy. So I wore Moon boots, that was interesting. I took a bus to the train station and then took a train to the city. I then walked about 10 miles to the hospital. I got there about 11 p.m. worrying the whole way that she had died. She was in the Pediatric intensive care. They said, "She is here, that has to be the mother" as I walked past the nurses station. I guess everyone was looking for me. I then sat in a metal rocking chair at cribside with my daughter in front of me for 3 days. The doctor told me if she made it the first 24 hours I would be halfway there and if she made it three days, we were on the road home. My stitches were killing me and my arm was turning all red and it was traveling up my arm. On the third day I went to the regular hospital to find out that my stitches however painful were not infected, just drying out without care and as such very painful. My arm was Phlebitis and I had to take a shot to break up the clot or it would kill me. I took the shot and headed back to Angie. Angie had tubes in every orafice, she was tied down arms and legs to the bed, she had monitors on her chest and needles in her head and I could only rub her fingers. Well, it was made clear before we got to go home that Angie would need open heart surgery at about 11 months old. She would have to have a surgery call the "mustard operation". She would always be bluish in color and I would have to give her digoxin to keep her alive as well as hemperin to keep her blood thin. This is all for now, I need a break for sure.