Hello, when I left off on the Web address I had discovered that I was pregnant for the second time. My baby's daddy had been forced to leave his job at a major liquor store chain because his hand would hurt unbearably when he had to work in the cooler. So we began selling meth, P2P to just get by. I knew that we weren't living a child friendly environment. I told him that I was barely able to deal with our lively, beautiful 1yr old son. So, and this is hard to admit, I asked him if I could have an abortion. He was dead set against it. But he said if I could afford one then it would be on my head. So I had no access to any money which landed me on my Daddy's doorstep. Like my husband he was against it but I became frantic telling him that I would never be able to be the parent that my children would deserved. He finally got me to calm down but still I wept and begged him for the money. He finally said he would tell my Mama about the situation and my fears, but he made no promises. As good as his word, he went to my Mama. Who without hesitation told him that she wouldn't even discuss my situation. That if he gave me one thin dime towards my choice she would throw everything he owned in the front yard and set fire to it and furthermore he'd never set foot in his house again.....ever, nor would I. So the die was cast and before you could blink an eye, I was 6 months along. At that point I had fearfully accepted the obvious. We were still selling dope at the time. I wasn't using which made me have a very low tolerance for the b.s. and the addicts and their lies that they told just to get some for free. So when my husband would have his fill of people owing us money, he would put a bounty on their head to be paid to anybody that could get the debtor to our house. I was all about the money too and would grab my 9mm and go and make house calls. I was collecting money up until my baby girl was born. Believe me when I say the last thing the people who owed wanted to see was an enormous pregnant lady with her gun drawn looking to collect our money, something worth the money, or to make them get in our car, and drive to face the beast that I was married to and face a minimum of a sound pistol whipping, or a black mag flashlight beating. One especially slippery fellow who would never leave his mother's house required a little out smarting. One bright sunny day I drove down his mother's street and pulled over, got out especially largely pregnant and put the hood up. It took him about thirty minutes to work up his nerve to come out to see if he could score some Brownie points with the reaper. When he bent over my engine I pressed my 9mm into his side. I calmly told him we were going to my house and see the boss OR I would blow a hole in him that he'd never survive. He asked if he could go tell his girlfriend. So silly. I said he would have plenty of time to spend with her if he survived. But it's bedtime for Grandma now. Talk to you later. Goodnight.