My Initiation of Life

I was born on August 23, 1951 to my parents Jennie and Don Yallech with an older sister by four years, Frances Ann.  My parents were owners of a neighborhood grocery store, Yallech United Family, in Struthers, Ohio.  It was located on Center Street, in a neighborhood referred to as ‘Nebo’.  ‘Nebo’ an Iroquois Indian name meaning “Little Heaven”.    The nurse told her she had a beautiful baby girl and what are you going to name her, while under the affluence of drugs and not being happy that I wasn’t a boy, she said, heck, call her Jezebel for all I care.  Thank goodness that my Dad said to name me after his brother John, so I got the name, Joan.  Why didn’t they just add another ‘n’ and make it Joann.   Even when I was born, I didn’t feel welcomed! 

I was always teased with a notion that I was adopted and believe me there were many times I remember creeping around in search of my birth certificate or some proof that I was a heir to the Yallech name.  One day I was hunting through this cedar chest that was at the foot of my parent’s bed.  I remember my mother catching me, and when asked what I was doing, I explained that I wanted to see my birth certificate, they just laughed for they knew all too well why I was searching.  She just scolds me to shut the lid and to get out of her room.  Never did find that darn thing, but later on in years, I was able to get it from the Health Dept in Youngstown and sure enough, I was a true Yallech.  I don’t know why it bothered me so much, when I was young, maybe because I felt that I was so different from my sister and didn’t feel so welcomed, especially after, my younger brother, Donald Yallech, Jr., was born in 1958 (I think). Talk about a jealous sibling, I definitely was, why, because they finally got their boy, yippee.  Even more resentfully especially when I got sprayed in my face, when Mom was changing his diaper and I was laying on the floor watching cartoons and she laughed, than yelled at me for being on the floor.  I hurriedly jumped off the floor to scrub my face with the feeling of being truly initiated into this family.   Caution: never lay on the floor when a baby’s diaper is being changed. 

Oh well, I know I am not alone, many children got teased about being adopted, and many children felt unwanted because of being a middle child and many were told that they were the ‘black sheep’ of the family.  I guess I should be happy, for I could have been lawfully aborted until February 22, 1951. That day they decided that I should live!  Thanks Mom and Dad, did you really do me a favor?