Statistically

Statistically

© 2023 Ashley Rippey

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN 978-1-66789-300-6

eBook ISBN 978-1-66789-301-3

Table of Contents

Introduction

Trigger Warning!!!

Chapter One: Foster Care

Chapter 2: Foster Care Continued

Chapter 3: Teen Pregnancy

Chapter 4: Baby Daddy #2

Chapter 5: Moving On

Chapter 6: Infidelity

Chapter 7: Biological Donors

Chapter 8: Growing Up

Chapter 9: Taking My Innocence’s

Chapter 10: Words Of Advice

Chapter 11: To My Husband

Chapter 12: Mental Illness

Chapter 13: Coparenting

Chapter 14: To The Moms Of My Life

Chapter 15: Random Feelings

Chapter 16: Letter To My Mother

Chapter 17: Bipolar

Chapter 18: Bipolar Continued

Chapter 19: Messages To My Kids

Chapter 20: Keep Going

Chapter 21: What Gives Me Strength

Chapter 22: Dealing With Grief

Chapter 23: Baby Formula Crisis

Chapter 24: Therapy Who?

Chapter 25: Spreading The Love

Public Service Announcement

Chapter 27: Letter To My People

Introduction

Did you know that as of 2019 there are currently 440,000 American children living in foster care? There are about 13,000 kids in Foster Care in Michigan, and about 300 more awaiting adoption day. In most cases children can be removed from the home due to drug and/or alcohol abuse, SA, or a combination of both. The average age of a child who enters foster care is 6 ½ years old... let that sink in for a longer moment... If you have children, imagine how that would make you feel. I am one of those 440,000 kids. Or should I say I used to be.

Well, hello there, if you are reading this, I’m assuming it’s because I know you and of course, Why wouldn’t you want to know all about my deep dark secrets? Lol well sucks for yall because if you truly know me, well then chances are you have already seen and heard about how traumatic my childhood was. If I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but this book intrigued your mind. Just know I am ever so grateful, and I hope that this book brings awareness to everything behind the scenes that goes on in most foster homes.

TRIGGER WARNING!!!

The things you are about to read, do not leave your mind or this book. Just kidding, the whole reason I’m writing this book, is so more people know MY side, MY story... so... buckle up butter cups...shhhhhhhiiiitttttsss about to get REAL!! (and yasssss, I do talk like this in real life, and no I don’t give a faaacccckkkk) LOL as I’m typing this, my computer is yelling at me for my poor grammar. Like settle down buddy... this is my story to tell ok!! Not yours.

My name is Ashley, and I am a 30-year-old stay-at-home mother. I have been married to my lovely hubby since 2016 and we have 4 lovely children... now let’s set the record straight!!! I have TWO kids from TWO DIFFERENT guys. Yes, yes, I know (insert eye roll here) shit happens. Anyways, my hubby also has a son from his earlier relationship. Not to mention October of 2021 we welcomed our last addition to our family, and we were blessed with our beautiful baby girl... and I can’t forget about my lovely four-legged fur baby Zoey. The dog is dumb as rocks, but she’s faithful and I love her.

I love to read, write, draw, sing, dance, among many other things. But what I love more than anything else in this world is my kids. I would take my last breath for my kids; I would swim oceans if it meant I could give them the world. My whole life has been nothing but being a mom. So as a mother myself, it hurt every inch of my soul writing what I have written. So please tread lightly, and always remember, just because it doesn’t hit home for you doesn’t mean it won’t hit home for others.

I take extraordinary pride in this, knowing I have busted my butt day in and day out to give every detail I can remember. Some of you may read this and go oh hey I remember that some of you may even hate the thought of being mentioned. Whichever it may be, know that I lose absolutely no sleep at night over it. HA HA HA, we go to sleep fine over here. But thank you for being my biggest fan, and my highest supporters. Because of you all, I managed to keep myself going.

Chapter one:

Foster Care

I entered Foster Care at the ripe old age of 13. I was scared, I was lonely. Just plucked away from my comfortable zone. I had no clue what fate was awaiting me. Every hour seemed to tick by without any conversation... I sat in a hard ass plastic chair in the middle of some dingy ass place in Detroit... 2 am, with two garbage bags of my belongings... now mind you this was back in like 2004/2005 so like... I couldn’t just sit on my phone like we all do now a days... I knew 3 numbers, one my mothers, two my best friends, and 3 at the time my boyfriend who I was also staying with.... Now how did this all happen, you say? Hahaha well it’s a super long story.

It all started when my mother met her then and current husband, I’m not naming names... but don’t be surprised if I call either one of them a swear word here and there. I mean to be quite honest. My mother deserves it, and so does his dumbass... opppppppeee see there I go already. I made it a whole what 2 pages without swearing!!! I think that’s truly a new record. My sperm donor was never in the picture... later in my teenage years, I would eventually find him... and let’s just say. That explanation may come later in the book. But for now, let’s focus on the two people who single handily ruined my life, but also made it so MUCH better for me... and the sad part of this, it wasn’t like either one of them tried to keep me. The second they had a chance to bail, they took the easy way out.

Now in no means am I saying I was such an angel as a teenager. Ok I think I was chill, normal. Now I mean there from time to time I did do a lot of shit that even now I look back and I’m like... girlfriend wtf were we thinking. But that’s beside the point. When those two decided to get together I was only 9 years old. And boy was I excited to finally have a dad well look at me now, a bitch had daddy issues. And I done fucked around and now have 3 baby daddies. Luckily for me, I got help to heal me from all this trauma. So don’t yall worry. It’s been 7 years’ worth of hell, but I did it, and now I’m a healthier me. Which is why I’m now spending my nights writing about my life, so others know they aren’t alone.

I always wondered what it would be like having someone else besides my mother to raise me. But then again it was awkward. I went from living and sharing a room my whole 9 years with my mom... and we lived with my grandpa, grandma, two uncles, one aunt and their six kids... we each had many pets... In the heart of Detroit. It was only a 4-bedroom house. To living and sleeping in the same bed/ bedroom as my stepfather’s mother. Now that wasn’t always the case, there were times when we would have enough money to live without my stepfather’s mother. Then I’d get my own room, but then every 2-3 years we would have to move back in with her because going on vacation 24/7 was wayyyyy more important than oh idk. Keeping a roof over our heads. But who was I to say anything? I was just a kid.

A poor kid who at 10 became a house cleaner, dog walker, garbage man, cook.... Now listen before all of you go running your mouth... because I can hear you all now, that sounds like a normal childhood to me. Those chores weren’t the problem... it was the way I did them. I never did them the right way and boyyyyyy did I get it!!! I can remember one time I got in trouble because I failed my times tables quiz in math. For a month straight I wasn’t allowed to do anything outside of school except come home and sit down and write out all my times tables, even starting at 0 and finishing at 12... I wasn’t allowed to do any sports because they never had the money or the time, but would go to Frankenmuth at least once every two months... I was always left behind because the dog just couldn’t be alone which was right, she shouldn’t have to suffer that long with no one home. But why wasn’t it someone else’s job? It wasn’t my dog. And oh, idk ya know I was like 10....

I wanted to be a part of their world. I wanted so badly to be included and loved. I felt so much like an outcast once they got married. Always felt like a burden instead of a kid. I never could do my schoolwork good enough, I was too loud, couldn’t sit still. I cried a lot back then. I remember the days id spend locked away in my room. If I wasn’t reading or writing. I was cutting myself to numb the pain. The first time my mother caught me with scars. She was in such shock, but never said a thing. My mental health went unnoticed even back then. No one could care less if I was there or gone.

Yall legit left me home to fend for myself at 10 with nothing but a "lock the doors when you take the dog out, and DONT forget your keys) no one cared that I was alone in an apartment by myself. What if something had happened? Fuck my life, right? I don’t remember exactly what I did to get punished but one summer I was grounded ALL of summer break. And every couple of days, I was awakened at 8 am and summoned to the back yard, where my fate unfortunately caught up with me. I had to cut and pull weeds. With scissors. Like mmmmkkkk ccccuuuussseeee me...Yes... legit he wanted me