Personal Narrative: How A Mom Changed My Life

On November 17,1989 my mother Juanita Renea Ohlinger went into labor at 6:00 A.M. she was in labor for 12hrs. She laid there in so much pain at Providence hospital until Dr. Kendal Foster showed up and told her she had to have a C-section because her pelvis would not expand. The nurse hooked my mother up to monitors and willed her to the operating room, my father Raymond F Smith was dressed in hospital operating clothes. Dr. Foster began to open my mother’s womb and pulled me out at 5:25 pm.

My mother was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis at the age of 40, when I was in preschool. With very few memories prior to her diagnosis, living with MS was quite simply a fact of life. A single parent who was singularly dedicated to her three daughters, my mother trudged unwaveringly through all the symptoms, complications, and limitations her disease inflicted on her. For the most part she suffered in silence, her disease progression so slow and gradual that it was nearly imperceptible to us. She was our family’s rock, her faith in God strengthening her resolve to give us as normal a childhood as possible considering the situation. A sudden escalation of her symptoms when I was eleven altered our lives. Over the course of two months she lost

The past wasn’t pretty for the town. They weren’t always like this. Before, people could dress how they want, say what was on their mind, but most importantly they were free. They didn’t have to listen to anyone, they didn’t have to do what they were told. There were no rules.

Becoming a mother changed my life in a very profound way. Due to my own upbringing, I was

I believe that becoming a mother has made me a better person.Before I became a mother, the entire universe revolved around my needs and my needs only. I was the first born to my mother and the first granddaughter to my grandmother. I could do no harm. I was the golden child. Everything I could ever want or need was given to me with no hesitation. I never went without anything. To be honest, I was a brat. Before I became a mother, I didn’t know life in the slow lane. I lived my life in the Fastlane.I never worried about anyone else’sneeds but my own. I answered to no one. Before I became a mother, I felt as though there was no purposeto life. I felt like I had been just going with the motions. I felt as though I was watching everything pass by and I was standing still.

I thought she would never leave me, and especially under these circumstances. We lived in a house in Rogersville Missouri and there was a hole in the floor in the kitchen entering the back deck and pool I did not have a room because they said I did not deserve one. we had a living room with ugly green carpet and the walls looked like fake wood , then tammy and buddy (buddy was the person who did those things to me he is my 2nd adoptive moms, 2nd boyfriend, she only liked him cause he was wealthy I know by the sounds of the house it does not sound like it but they were doing a renovation , we had a boat two jet skis and we had a ford king ranch and a convertible Lexus) had a bedroom with an huge bed and a bathroom with paw prints on the

Mama always had a love-hate relationship with my hair. If she was around me all the time, she’d comb and gel my black curly hair into an unpredictable shape, whatever she wanted. It almost always became a frizzy, tangled mess. I never liked her hair styling but I finally learned not to argue with Mama. I liked my hair like I like my food: simple. No need to add anything, or spend more money. My mama didn’t see it like that.

It is as though she didn’t hear her mother’s allegations against her dad, only the attack. Arlene was ready to pounce, apparently just waiting for the opportunity. “You don’t like being around me either, you only like work. Daddy is my real mommy, always around, and you’re not. You just waited all this time because you wanted to yell at him because you haven’t said anything to me all night. I stayed with you watching TV just to see if you would talk to me but you just sat there, waiting, ready to pick a fight as soon as daddy came back. How can we enjoy this new camper if you won't let us? I thought you would be glad daddy agreed to buy it, so we don’t have to sleep on the ground anymore, and even that didn’t make you happy. You’re never

I remember a time, when I felt like the world was against me and the only thing keeping me sane was my mom. She has been their for me during all the ups and downs of my problems. I have felt elevation when she helped me get through the loss of my uncle.  For example, she would let me cry on her shoulder and asked if I needed anything. There would be days when I came home from school crying, from my teacher yelling at me and sending me to the principal office. She would comfort and tell me that everyday is a new day and the teacher was just doing her job. When I was little, I was always afraid to go over to my grandparents house and sleep over. She gave me the strength to face my fear and now I'm not afraid anymore. She has always pushed me

My mom was chosen to be shadowed because she has always worked two jobs. When we moved, she decided to only have one job and go to school, which i am really glad of because she was very stressed. She seems to be a lot happier now that she only has to worry about one job. It would be nice to see how she works now that she is less tired from working 2 jobs and now only works that one. Another reason is because we don't really get to spend time together with her working and school.

“Estas loca que le vas a decir a tu papa? (you are crazy what are you going to tell your dad)” my mom said

It was the afternoon of April 17th, one more month until I was done with junior year. Everything was going great: good grades, good friends. We had family from Colorado visiting, and I was so excited to see them! It was the moment I got home from soccer practice, that turned my life completely upside down.

I watched as the letters looped and formed my mother’s name on the line; beautiful and clear, the mess of lines were a paradox in and of themselves. I grew up as the oldest of five in a single parent household; my mom was my biggest inspiration even though, until I was six and started devouring books, I didn’t even know what the word meant. When I first started learning cursive in elementary, I aspired to be able to have a signature as unique as hers. I’d doodle my name all over my notebooks; my friends and I would practice signing each other’s hands and books for the day when we’d all inevitably find fame. Eventually, our names had a constant presence on each other’s belongings. When I got older and my mom went from a stay-at-home mom to someone who worked odd shifts and exhausting hours, her signature on our papers suddenly became rushed and lost

At the age of sixteen I became a mother. Not literally but I had to take responsibility for my six year old brother as if he was my own son. Our own mother was diagnosed with Schizophrenia, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and Bipolar Disorder . We did not have a mother , she refused to seek help and the place we called our home became unbearable. She was careless , distant, she was would keep us up with her yelling and made up fights. She would threaten us and leave for as up to a week at once . I was the head of the household. I cooked , cleaned , helped my brother with homework, took him to practice and made sure my mother’s image was not ruined in his innocent mind like she had ruined it in mine . I became subject to her emotional verbal and once physical abuse. She targeted me more than anyone once she noticed that her son favored me more than her. All this while being in my first

When I was 7 years old, I remember my mom used to drive a school van, On the morning she would pick up regular school students, but in the afternoons she would pick up soccer students and take them to their practice, I always wanted to spend time with my mom, so I decided to go with her all the afternoons on her route. I would sit on chair and watch everyone playing, one day my I asked my mom if I could join the girls’ soccer team, she always support me and she gave me her approval. In the next week she bought me all the soccer gear and uniform, I started my training and I was very excited until I realized I was one of the smallest girl on the team, and the during the game the other girls acted tough while paying. I didn’t gave up; I liked