My Love, My Tragedy, My Story.

La Mia Famiglia. My Family.

So, to begin, let's start with my dad. Mr. Robert George Kardashian.

My dad was born on February 22, 1944 in Los Angeles, California. His mother, Italian. His father, Italian-Armenian. He grew up and became a lawyer.

Before meeting my mom, Kris Jenner, my dad was in a relationship with another woman, whose name will go unnoted. The woman lived in Texas while my dad mainly resided in Chicago, Illinois. After a few years of dating, they decided long distance just wasn't for them. A few months after their split, my dad got a phone call from the woman telling him that she was expecting their child. And six months later, my eldest sister was born, Amanda Dawn. Now, she didn't take my dad's name because her mom didn't really plan on my dad being a part of her life. But, that's not the man my dad was. He planned on being there as much as possible. In fact, that's how he met my mother. He was on a plane ride coming home from seeing my sister, Amanda. My mom was actually the flight attendant. They hit it off pretty well and on July 9, 1978, my parents said "I do." Less than a year later, my second eldest sister was born. Kourtney Mary Kardashian. Next came Kimberly Noel, about a year and a half later. Then it was Khloe Alexandra in 1984. My dad really loved all four of his girls, but truly wanted a boy. Lucky him. Next baby was my older, and only blood brother, Robert Arthur.

You'd think they had the perfect life, right? In their California home, they had it all. Three gorgeous girls and a handsome little boy. But, things weren't as smooth sailing in their marriage like everyone thought. In 1989, the divorce talk began between them. Although they did continue to attend friends and family gatherings together, which is kinda how I came along. My parents attended their friend's annual New Years Eve party. What usually happens at those things? Oh yeah, alcohol. Let's just say my parents may have had one too many that night and ended it the way they ended their wedding night.

About two months into the divorce, my mom called my dad and told him she was expecting another baby. But, she didn't think she could raise all six kids without my dad around. What was her decision? Abortion. She talked to her mom, we call her MJ, and explained what she planned to do. Of course, MJ wasn't happy with my mom's decision, but knew she really couldn't stop her. There was only person who could actually convince my mom not to go through with it. Dad. He called her and begged her to wait until he got home from Chicago. He was at a business meeting that involved signing some new players to the Cubs. She agreed and when he got home, they sat down in the living room and discussed the options. That's when my dad did the thing that to this day, I'm still extremely grateful for. He took control and told my mom that he would raise me. When he went home that night, he thought about how hard it was going to be to raise a little baby when he traveled so much. Being a lawyer/business man made family time hard, but he always figured out a plan. He called his friends down in Lousiana. Archie and Olivia Manning. They had three boys, Cooper(16), Peyton(14),and Eli(8). He explained the situation to them and they gladly agreed to help in anyway possible. Boy, they didn't know what they were getting themselves into haha.

When my mom was about four months along, Archie, Olivia, and my dad all agreed the best thing would be for me to just live in Louisiana with the Manning's. Olivia had always wanted a baby girl and now was her chance. My mom knew Archie and Olivia very well and agreed that they were the family she trusted.

Now, this exchange wasn't set up as an adoption or anything. My parents were still going to be my parents. I would just live in Louisiana with Archie, Olivia, and the boys. They would be more like my legal guardians.

Since my dad's mom was from Italy, that's where my family visited every summer and Christmas.

Around the end of May, my parents decided to take one last family vacation together. They went to Italy. Towards the end of the vacation, my family was out on my grandparent's back deck hanging out by the fire and just telling old stories. Things were going great until my mom looked at my dad and said, "My water broke."