I’ll tell you what I know about sizes and then if I find out anymore tomorrow (I’m keeping the children all day) I can let you know.
Gabriel is 4 years old, and he loves Thomas the Tank and Spiderman. He is a pretty normal 4 year old size I think…maybe a 5. Charisma is 21 months now…she’s just a little princess. She likes everything…Dora the Explorer, Winnie the Pooh, Sesame Street, Cinderella…she’s too little to have favorites I guess. She’s wearing size 24 mos. Or 2T.
A big giant THANK YOU to the anonymous donor who spurred on action from three more tender-hearted readers who wrote to say that they would send Diane's grieving husband and small children something in the mail this Christmas.
I am grateful to those who are donating to "Diane's fund". You are priceless. May you be deeply blessed.
Thursday, December 9, 2004
Orlando Women's Center
Late Term Abortion Day
"At 8:00 a.m. an Asian woman in her early twenties and wearing pajamas came stumbling toward the clinic door, clutching her pregnant belly. "Connie" was obviously in active labor. The door was locked because the abortion clinic doesn't officially open until 9 a.m. Connie couldn't catch her breath. This was her first baby. She was just 19 weeks, about half way through pregnancy. Pregnant at Christmastime. A Christmas baby. Her first child.
The baby Connie is carrying is already about 6 inches long. He has been kicking and stretching inside his mother. Connie feels his little feet like butterflies wings beating in her womb. She wants him dead. I hold a model of a 20 week baby in my hands. Just like Connie's infant.
Connie is going to deliver her little child. The abortion clinic workers know that the baby will be born alive so they will make Connie deliver the little one into the toilet. Although Connie's Christmas baby will be delivered too early to survive, his heart will probably be beating when he is born. The medical assistant will leave Connie's infant in the toilet until he drowns. They will make sure he is dead before they take him out of the toilet and put him in the medical waste container. The man from Stericycle will then come and collect Connie's baby's body along with all the other aborted babies. They will all be burned like garbage.
Connie never had a baby before. She wasn't prepared for the strong contractions of a labor-and-delivery abortion. Connie fell to the grass in front of the clinic in a heap and just lay there with her eyes closed and her hands between her legs. I encouraged Connie to allow me to take her to a local hospital to try and stop her labor. She refused and remained there on her side in the grass, silent, getting all wet from the morning dew. Connie chose this. She paid $1200 for this experience.
We offered Connie a chair and a blanket. Her friend "Daniel" had brought her to kill her baby. He didn't know what to do. We told Daniel that he must take her to the hospital. He shook his head saying, "It's her choice." Connie just lay there, still and silent, on the clinic lawn. Minutes went by. I got out my video camera. I filmed the pitiful, awful, haunting scene so that the truth of what happens at Orlando Women's Center can be seen and heard.
I remember seeing the Holocaust documentary"Night and Fog" when I was in high school. As horrible as it was, I was thankful that someone went to the trouble of recording the genocide.
A few years ago a woman actually gave birth on the lawn outside Pendergraft's abortion clinic in Tampa. She had been given the pills to induce her labor and was told to come back in the morning to deliver her baby inside the clinic. She didn't make it. She delivered outside the front door. After the mom delivered her tiny aborted infant, she placed the baby in a brown paper bag and waited at the door for the clinic to open. The baby was dead inside the bag when the first clinic worker arrived and opened the door. Chilling.
At 8:30 a.m. I called 911. By the time paramedics arrived five minutes later the head adminstrator of Orlando Women's Center had come and brought Mother inside through the back door to deliver her very first baby at 19 weeks gestation. Was her baby alive? Did the poor little fellow struggle to breathe? Did he drown in the toilet at 1103 Lucerne Terrace today? What happened to "Baby Christmas"?
Six other women walked into the clinic with blankets and pillow and goodies to labor and deliver and abort their late term infants 16 days before Christmas in Orlando. How many more women will arrive for abortions later today, tomorrow and the next day? Orlando Women's Center commits abortions seven days a week. What an incredible shame on Orlando. What kind of a place is this?"
"I reach out to abortion-bound girls and women at the #1 late-term (third trimester) abortion clinic in the state of Florida called Orlando Women's Center. They murder children through all nine months of pregnancy.
Beginning at around 16 weeks gestation the clinic uses the method known as "labor-and-delivery" to commit the abortion. The abortion staff simply induces the pregnant woman's labor (with Cytotec pills) and the baby is delivered inside the abortion clinic from 6-36 hours later. We have many first-hand reports, from patients and abortion clinic workers, that about 1/3 of these infants are "born" alive and left to die.
Most of these abortions themselves fall under the category of "legal" but it is illegal to fail to provide medical treatment when an infant survives abortion. Although I KNOW that they are NOT providing medical care for these infants, I have failed in all of my MANY efforts to have any charges brought against the abortion clinic.
I believe that the average citizen of Florida, and indeed, America, would be shocked and outraged if they were to find out about these labor-and-delivery abortions that are committed against viable infants. I have spent many, many years trying to educate the church and the general public, and I am sad to say that I have failed to persuade anyone to stand up and do anything about this.
I now have the medical records of a woman named C.H. who went to abort her baby at 22.3 weeks gestation at Orlando Women's Center (owned by notorious felon and abortionist James Scott Pendergraft) on 11/15/01 . The notes by abortion staff in C.H.'s medical record reveal that she became "upset" that her labor contractions caused her "pain" and with the fact that the abortion clinic wouldn't give her pain medication. When she was in hard labor C.H. left the abortion clinic. Her dear little baby was born ALIVE at a local hospital. C.H. kept her baby and has been raising her ever since then.
The "aborted" child is now three years old and C.H. is suing the abortion clinic and James Pendergraft and the other abortionist (who was on call that evening) hoping that they will be financially responsible for some of the care required for her special needs child. (The whole thing is so sick and twisted.)
The lawsuit was filed inOrange County Civil Court here in Orlando on 5/25/04. The case number is04CA-1202. Would you be willing to bring the law suit up before your church and everyone you know? The point is to TALK about late term abortions of viable infants (40-50 % of babies at 23 weeks gestation now survive) and how they are performed here in Orlando. I am certain that folks do not know the details of how these second and third trimester abortions are performed and that they are "routine". (We witnessed seven women going into have these abortions at Orlando Women's Center yesterday.)
I'd beglad to fax you C.H.'s medical records so you can see them for yourself.
All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is forgood men to do nothing. -Edmund Burke
Have nothing to do with the unfruitful deeds of darkness but rather expose them. -Ephesians 5:11
Talk, talk, talk about late term abortion. Exposing it is the right thing to do. If you know someone of influence who is willing to expose late term abortion, PLEASE pass that info along to me."
This just in (regarding Diane's widower and small children):
An anonymous donor will match any pledge on a four-to-one basis, up to a total of $200.
For example, if I can get another five people to send $10 each to Diane's grieving husband and children ($50 total), the donor will send $200 (4 x$50 = $200). A smaller amount... like say... eight people pledging to send $5 each, a $40 total, would draw $160 from the donor. Get it?
From a family member re: Diane's children and widower:
"They are just getting through one day at a time right now. Please pray for Robbie, as he seems to be very confused about what to do next, with his job, his children, etc. He needs direction and wisdom way beyond his years."
OK, I have had three, count 'em, three people email me and say they were going to send something to Diane's (deceased cancer mom) family, so I suppose the boycott is off and I can post again. Recently, I've had over 300 hits in one day, so I won't hide the fact that I wish more than three people had written to say that they were going to send something to this family, but alas... three dear individuals, including the generous, compassionate atheist, will have to suffice. (May God bless you three richly in heart and spirit. May He seep into the atheist's tough skin, overwhelming him completely. May you three find tremendous satisfaction in your gift/card/prayers for this precious family.)
This is the last thing I will say about it (I think)...
It only costs 37 cents for a stamp. It only takes 15 minutes to jot down a caring note. It takes nearly nothing to be an evolved species, and Christians in particular have no excuse for not reaching out to others, especially to a young, grieving minister whose twenty-something wife just died heroically and left him with two small children and no idea what to do next.
Things are sad lately. Too sad. And no one (save for that confounded atheist) is writing me to say that they are going to send Robbie or Diane's kids anything for Christmas. I prefer to delude myself into believing that all the lovelies who wrote me eons ago asking for the address... have held onto that information and are just bypassing me to send their cards, gifts, thoughts, prayers, etc. But If that ISN'T the case... I think I'm going to boycott my own blog.
Don't MAKE me boycott my own blog, people!!!
Ohhh, I have GOT a computer, and I'm not afraid to NOT use it!!!
Sure there are a lot of good, gooooood causes. But tell me this one doesn't just reach right in and twang on your viscera. Tell me you don't feel encouraged, inspired and yet sick to your stomach when you think of the whole ordeal. Tell me that if you were in Robbie's situation right now you wouldn't care if people forgot about you because they were too busy with Christmas decorations and tinkling donations of leftover pocket change in Salvation Army storefront kettles like good little seasonal givers.
There is just no way I am willing to accept the wide circulation of the sappy Christmas shoes urban legend while this very real situation ebbs into the field of the unnoticed. TELL ME I AM MAKING YOU FEEL HELPLESSLY COMPELLED TO SNAILMAIL THIS FAMILY SOME SORT OF COMPASSIONATE MOMENTO!!!
(end of rant.)
Now, I know you decent people will not let me down in my concern. So, to reward you in advance, I will print an hilarious email I received from one of my very favorite readers re: the choicesters post. Here 'tis:
"God, does the pandering to dumbass teenagers ever stop? What a stupid name.
'Hi, my name's Chelsea. I'm a choicester!' 'Hi, my name's Sienna. I'm a hamster! We're the next generation of American leadership! Wanna place your children's future in our hands?'
I give you credit for having the stomach to read that stuff. I personally cannot stand to be bombarded with that level and concentration of ignorance, stupidity, self-deception, and wanton cruelty. I know it's out there, but like pornography, snuff films, and videotapes of hostages being beheaded in Iraq, I just prefer not to see it."
Wow, man. I just remembered that this blog actually has an email account, so I uh... checked it.
Over 40 emails (thirty-nine and a half from Annie Banani alone! ;-). People actually read this blog. And here I've been feeling like one of those midnight writers... a 2 a.m. ham radio operator with one frequency hit per blue moon.
So I'm sorry for not responding. I haven't been arrogantly untouchable. I haven't even been too busy (although I'm lucky I get a bath or two each month what with two "churrin", homeschooling, organic coop, holidays, weddings, etc.) . I've just been... dum-buh.
I wasn't going to post tonight, today, this morning... whatever the heck it is at 1:25 a.m. I am still reeling from the death of the mother with cancer. It's one more bad dream I'm trying to wake up from. Like a clockwork mouse I'll bump into the wall a little while longer before I accept the reality of it. It sucks, and I didn't do enough. Who among us did? (Aside from that one atheist dude who kept donating ungodly amounts.)
The mother's kids are still around, it's Christmas soon, her husband is up to his eyeballs in grief, painful explainations and medical debt. I've still got their address. Let's take at least some of the weight off his shoulders. We've asked our church, for instance, if they will repackage our tithe this week and send it to Robbie in a neat little check. That's one idea. It's one way to remain anonymous. It's one way to allot funds we really don't have. Would that work for you? Email me for the address. I promise to check my messages daily.
Sigh... she was in her twenties. Her TWENTIES. Have you seen the pictures? It's a requirement.
I'm sure some abortion supporter is going to take this case and run with it. That's too bad. Despite what it might obviously look like, that's not the message. Diane's death encourages me even more. She died for this, folks. And yes, I know that cancer killed her, that it was not necessarily carrying her child to term that ended her life. But she was not willing to fight for her life at her daughter's expense. No... not that way.
She was willing
if that's what it took
to die for her faith
and for her child
and she did.
That means everything
The Most Beautiful Photo In The World...
Diane defiantly nurses her daughter with her
remaining breast. She will lose this breast too
but continues to nurse until that time. She will lose
her life as well, but continues to love until that time.
Please view the photos.
I got an email today... the mom with cancer died this morning. A relative was holding her hand and reading to her from Psalms. Her children, including the one she refused to kill and gave her very life for, do not understand.
I'm really not ok with this.
I wanted the happy ending.
I wanted it on my terms.
I wanted it now.
Once again, I didn't get what I wanted.
I'd throw a tantrum if it would help.
But it wouldn't, so instead I slump in my chair and cry.
No matter what...
no matter what
Mother made the right choice.
The beauty and honor of it bring me to my knees.
*"Johan" arrived at 8:15 a.m. Her rounded belly rose out from below her t-shirt, revealing a belly ring. She told me that she was seventeen weeks pregnant with her very first child and didn't want to have "it". I explained to Johan tha tshe would be having her baby. Abortion at seventeen weeks is childbirth. "You will push your little child's body out, Johan. You will see her face, feel her body slither out of yours." She assured me: "No, I won't see, because htey will take the baby away. I won't have to look." Johan went on to say, "I've already prayed about this." Sje reasoned, "This baby will go right to God. Everything will be fine. I amy not go to heaven, but my baby will." When I told Johan that she needed to fear God more than her circumstances she smiled and said, "I'm not afraid of God." I invited Johan into the mobile unit to have a free ultrasound. She refused saying, "Oh, no. I don't want to see it." When I tried to show Johan the photo of aborted infant Little Mary, Johan quickly looked away. "No, don't show me that." As she walked into the abortion clinic Johan said, "Just pray for me now. You do that."
*"Precious" came walking by with her children: Nicodemus (4) and Alana (3). I introduced myself and discovered that although Precious was not heading into the abortion clinic, she was considering abortion. I invited Precious to have a free ultrasound while we watched her two sweet kids outside. Mark was able to get a very good picture of the infant because Precious is about thirty-four weeks pregnant.
*When "Maria" told her husband that she was eight weeks pregnant he quickly instructed her to "get rid of it". With five children back in Mexico (that Maria has been sending $300/month to) she couldn't imagine having another one. We were praying hard for Maria to soften to the reality of her child. I reached out to her saying in Spanish: "God forbids the shedding of innocent blood," and "Abortion is a mortal sin." I also told her, "Your child is a gift from God." Maria nodded and replied "Si." Marilsa from A Chosen Child adoption Agency spoke with Maria on my cell phone. Maria was insistent: "No adoption." After several more minutes of serious counseling, admonition and pledges to help her, Maria kissed me! She looked into my eyes and said, "Gracias." Maria realized that killing her baby was the wrong choice! We are helping to reunite her with her children in Mexico and we are providing her with medical care.
Pray for the women we met today who are laboring and delivering their aborted babies at Orlando Women's Center as you read this."
For those who don't know, Orlando Women's Center is where my husband and I aborted our first child, due to maternal health issues, in a late-term, second-trimester abortion. It was the wrong choice.
Remember the mom with breast cancer? The mom that doctors advised to abort her daughter at 5 months? She had a breast removed during pregnancy but not her baby. For a while, it was looking good for this young mother. But, as is often the case with cancer, it has come back with a vengeance. Things are pretty bleak.
I want to reiterate that there is no indication that this mother would have survived cancer-free if she had aborted. I have read plenty of medical studies where physicians advised late term abortions for maternal cancer, and plenty of those mothers aborted only to die any way. I realize the moms were frantically trying to survive, but I think it would have been better for only one person to die instead of two. The thing is... doctors can't really offer certain stakes. It's all hypothetical. Life or death with maternal disease of this caliber? Sometimes. Sometimes not.
I personally know a mom who was given pretty daunting odds unless she aborted her baby. She had breast cancer and chose NOT to abort. She and her baby are fine today. She is 100% cancer-free. That isn't to say that a year from now her cancer won't come back and kill her. Cancer is nasty. It doesn't play fair. And doctors don't know everything. So sick moms are left to make a choice that they may or may not really have to make. What's a mother to do?
I'm not trying to attack sick moms who have aborted. I have a pretty nasty pregnancy related maternal illness myself. Death has been a real consideration at times. One good staph infection in your PICC line is really all it takes, and I had that. Treatments can be risky, but you have to have them.
I've not had cancer in pregnancy, but I understand, at least, scared moms who are sick of suffering and don't want to die. Believe me, I do. I've been one of them, and I've sacrificed a child's life in the second trimester because of suffering and fear. But I have also suffered and been afraid for my life and not sacrificed a child, and by far that was the more admirable, more compassionate, more right thing to do... no matter my own personal outcome. I can understand abortion for maternal health reasons, but I don't regard it as honorable.
My husband and I were pondering hyperemesis gravidarum last night and marveling at how the mother suffers and depletes until she resembles, nutritionally, a dried piece of chicken jerky... but the child takes what she needs and is healthy as a plum.
Evidently, when there is a problem, nature dictates that the child's needs come first and that it is the mother who must sacrifice. In studies where moms developed such truly, imminently life-threatening complications such as Wernicke's encephalopathy, the baby often died (followed by the mother if not treated). So in cases where Mom is down to the wire... it seems only then is nature willing to give the child up in a last ditch effort to give the mother a fighting chance. The body may be generally more certain (than a physician) in the knowledge that it is dying; physicians may give up too soon.
I'm no medical professional. I realize there may be other instances where the child's health is "naturally" sacrificed before the mother's in high risk pregnancies. I simply don't know of them. Email me if you have something real to offer on the subject. I'm curious to ponder it.
Anyway... I've veered waaay off the path of the original post intent. It's a sad and fascinating subject.
I really only wrote to introduce the mom with cancer, the one that many of us have been praying for, the one that many of us sent donations and gifts to, the mom who did not abort her daughter to save her own skin, the mom who is too good for this world...
She is not doing well
She made a courageous choice of honor that saved her daughter's life
She is not sorry.
Here is her picture (notice her two crowning glories):
For those that attend prayer groups, please oh please print out this image and share it. If any want to send Mom or her children anything, please let me know, and I will help you make arrangements.
More excerpts from the journal of a "sidewalk counselor":
"Thursday, Nov. 17, 2004
Donna & Ralph, a power couple, arrived in their brand new Mercedes SUV. They walked into the clinic carrying the tell-tale comfort items associated with late-term abortion: a blanket, a pillow and refreshments for the long, dark night of delivering their dead, aborted infant. Donna wouldn't respond to our offers of help, answer our questions or take our information packet.
Saturday, Nov. 20, 2004
Delores shouted, 'If you can't afford it, get rid of it, b*#ch!' Her friend Lindy (the mom aborting) said: 'It costs a million dollars to raise a child!' I told Lindy that adoption was free."
Obviously Donna and Ralph were financially destitute and "needed" to abort their child in order to avoid starving to death.
And poor Lindy sounds like she came straight from Planned Parenthood with her million-dollar quote.
Ever wonder where that type of notion originates or how it breaks down? Go here.
Someone should have told Lindy that often times less is more and that a dry crust of bread eaten in peace is better than a feast eaten in strife. And if a gal has a functioning conscience, killing her own child can be a little on the perpetually stressful side.
In the id skid of the century a spokeswoman for the Planned Parenthood Mid-Michigan Alliance refers to pregnancy termination as "a tragedy".
The whole article is really BEE-zarre. Apparently, a 16-year-old girl and her boyfriend participated in a do-it-yourself abortion via several purposefully-aimed baseball bat whacks to the stomach. This made for an interesting womb environment and eventually caused the intended "miscarriage".
Now, it seems, there is some legal question about the child's death. Was it murder? Michigan law considers whether the child was quick or not. Roe v. Wade defined a quick child as one at 16-18 weeks. Some Webster definitions for "quick" or "quickening" are: alive, pregnant, speedy and able to cause detectable movement in the womb.
We all know that a gestating child is alive before 16-18 weeks, is not pregnant and is not particularly speedy. So Roe v. Wade legislators must have been referring to detectable movement "quickening". But I felt Elise move at 13 weeks. Mind you, I was on tube feedings and was skin and bones, but I FELT her move and that satisfies the definition of a quick child. Of course, she was moving way before that as was detected by sonogram.
So does "quick" mean "detected by maternal nerve endings" or "detected by sonogram"? Could it be that 16-18 weeks is just some arbitrary number some malevolent ignoramuses pulled out of their big fat butts? Boy, I'm so glad a law that kills millions of kids and hurts millions of survivors is based so heavily on well-defined, rational facts.
While I was reading this article I honestly wondered for a moment if it was a joke.
It's the new millennium. George Tiller is a red, white and blue late-term killin' machine. Hollywood is out and proudly donating to his cause. The partial birth abortion ban can't even pass when it already has. Abortion is as sacred as ever.
Am I reading the article wrong? Can people actually get in trouble for willingly killing their unborn child? I mean, if this country loves and protects abortion, then who cares? Who cares if sister-girl was 9 months along, in labor, jumped off her roof and did a belly flop onto her driveway to abort her baby? Or tied a pork chop on her abdomen and got a pack of wolves to eat through to the chewy baby center? Or got a guy to shoot poison into the baby's heart with a syringe? Or got someone to enter her womb, poke a hole in the delicate fetal skull, and Hoover out baby brains? Or got her boyfriend to hit her in the stomach with a baseball bat? Who in the legal world cares? When a mom willingly kills her gestating child, that is just legally fine and dandy in this country.
You can't have it both ways. Either it's acceptable or it's unacceptable.
Defense attorney Elizabeth Jacobs said the case obviously "would be hard to take to a jury because it shows a complete disregard for human life," and added that it sets a new standard for self-centeredness. What? How is this "obvious" in a Roe v. Wade worshipping society?
And why did a Planned Parenthood spokesperson call the termination of this pregnancy a tragedy when her own abortion business makes a killing off of the premise that no pregnancy termination is a tragedy? Is it because her organization didn't turn a profit in this case?
It can't be because abortion is cruel. After all, friends of the deceased child's family tell reporters how kind and selfless the involved parties are and how they would never hurt anybody intentionally. I guess repeatedly using his girlfriend as a pinata was an accident. Oopsie.
Maybe the PP rep's comment was in reference to maternal health.
"'Any miscarriage can have serious health ramifications', said Buccellato, the obstetrician and gynecologist."
As can any abortion. Which is why it is important for parents to be informed about surgery on their teens.
In the article the PP rep insinuates that parental consent laws caused the baseball bat tragedy. In the same breath she also talks about how teens can hide an unplanned pregnancy from parents for many months and believes that: "Teens are still kids, and if they can convince themselves [pregnancy] is not happening, they think it will go away."
Well, with that kind of clear-headedness it is no wonder the PP chick thinks a teen can handle the "hardest decision a woman ever has to make" all by herself.
Still, I don't really know what PP's beef is with parental consent. The grandparents of the battered baby helped to give the little slugger a proper Zip-Lock burial in the back yard, uh huh.
Who knows what the time stamp says at the bottom of this entry. The owls are hooting outside my window, and it is nearly 2:30 A.M... again. My brain is a shriveled walnut at this point, so I will defer to a friend who sent this interesting tidbit:
"NARAL has formed an online group of 'Choicesters'; the 30 or so profiles of people who filled out questionnaire forms can be found here. Go to the questionnaire and you'll see that there's not much of a 'choice' in the category for the 'Politically Aware Celebrity I Resemble Most,' or in one's ability to submit a pro-choice poem (I guess they figured lengthy odes rhapsodizing about abortion might actually start seeming distasteful).
I originally found this part of NARAL's site because I was curious if they'd voiced any objection to the conviction of Scott Peterson for Conner's death. When you search on 'Peterson' you get nothing; when you search on 'Laci' you get a single reference to one of the 'Choicester' profiles objecting to 'tricks' to erode Roe v Wade by passing legislation like Laci and Conner's law."
Let me just reiterate that California has had an unborn victims of violence law on the books for as long as I can remember, and they are one of the most abortion-lovin' states in the U. S. of A. They aren't anywhere NEAR restricting abortion, and this law of theirs hasn't hurt their romance with "choice" one bit.
What the unborn victims law does do is to protect a woman's right to choose to have her baby. The "choicester" is probably a grassroots granola feminazi who hasn't been informed that in the new millennium we admit they are living human children and fill out sentimental paper hearts to tape on abortion clinic walls in lieu of actually caring. Either that or s/he is a grossly misinformed newbie.
But hey... I simply can't imagine an abortion-supporter being misinformed! Surely people who call themselves "choicesters" are grand examples of reason and intellect, realize what is at stake if they are wrong, and live life as I do, with information on the subject spilling out of every shoebox and file folder existing in the home.
I noticed that the gift shop sells a t-shirt that says: "It's your choice, not theirs!" Propaganda. Phermones in the air for a stinging swarm of yellow jackets. They know this message is one of "Our team against yours, you right-infringing religious zealots! And we're going to win!" Do people still fall for this? I guess they do. I mean, I've read the comments, and I acknowledge America's passion for Monday night football.
But really, if the "choicesters" were genuine (or in the very least, smarter) wouldn't their message be more compassionately attractive? Wouldn't their shirts say: "Abortion: A Necessary Sorrow."? It would be a big fat lie of course, but more appealing... like, for instance, the word "choice".
(And for any abortion-supporters who want to steal my t-shirt idea, be forewarned: we'll just spoof your shirt with our own, which will say: "Abortion: Unnecessary Sorrow." And then we'll snap pictures of you attempting to somehow violate our right to choose to wear our t-shirt. But don't worry. Your "team" owns the media, so no one will ever know.)
My son knocked a pretty gnarly scab off of his ankle while we were at the park hanging out with other conservative hippies who are in total denial about being hippies. He sat on the ground rocking back and forth in a panic and apparently speaking in tongues as blood gushed from his surprisingly vascular wound. He was inconsolable and incoherent as I tried to communicate to him that everything would be all right.
Finally, in bad mother form, I threw my hands up in the air and walked away curtly declaring, "I can't help you when you are like this!" He relented and removed his hand from the crimson-flowing booboo. I recovered it with the Squidward glow-in-the-dark adhesive bandage (purchased prior to receiving the boycott info on BandAid) and told him it was no big deal and to go play.
He reaffirmed his belief that this was indeed a life or death issue despite my consolation, and I gave him the option of leaving his friends, going home, cleaning up the wound, smothering it in salve, rebandaging it, and having him rest in the bed for a few hours while we bit our lips waiting to see if he would survive. Evidently, the power of God was upon him and a miraculous healing occurred, for he was instantly better and off like a shot to rejoin the merciless playground beatings of kindergarteners with sticks.
Later that night while filling the washer with a load of whites something just missed the basin and tumbled to the floor. Ah, a sock grenade. Unfurling it I notice the dark garnet patches of soaked and dried blood. At once tunnel vision. At once sucked through the vacuum of time. An emotional "out of body" experience, I see myself holding the socks I wore to the abortion clinic to abort my second trimester child. To kill, ladies and gentlemen, my precious, healthy little girl or little boy. The socks are covered in mother-child blood, the last time we would touch.
Oh I wanted to throw them away like everything, EVERYTHING else... but somehow, my hand held over the trash would not release. Instead I buried them. But not deep enough, because nearly 8 years later here it is; my dirty laundry roaring back.
Several times lately I am realizing in small snippets of stripped reality that um... I killed my child. That it really happened, and that it really was my little boy or little girl. A person. My person. My squishy little cooing fat puff... like the other fat puffs who've issued forth from my flesh.
Yikes. I like to stay back a little. I mean, I'm in it... I get close enough to feel the heat... but usually I blow a fuse before the emotional surge singes fur and skin off. But no. No buffer lately. Raw electricity of love eviscerated and lost. But it's that time, isn't it? I found out I was pregnant with my doomed li'l belly buddy the day after Thanksgiving. I'm too busy to rent space to this right now, but there you are. My psychic VW sits booted on the curb, and there's still Christmas shopping to do; I ain't goin' nowhere. It's a brick and I'm drowning slowly.
The cherry on top is the ensuing dream... I keep having these babies. Over and over I have them. They crawl out of me like joeys. They are all around 15 weeks of course. I'm Katy No-Pocket, defective and scrambling. Instead the thing to do is to sandwich each baby between a warm, white towel and hope for the best. In the dream this makes sense. In the dream this is an effective way to incubate a baby. But I am careless. I leave the towels on the floor where the babies are trod on. They are squished in half. Weeping swollen silver tears, I remove the outer layers of towel and peer in at the broken bodies. I resolve to try again, but I am never careful. Each child comes to ruin. Each life mangled and spent. I cry and cry and can not for the life of me understand why I keep making the same mistake over and over again when I care so much for the children I endanger and spoil.
I wake up and realize it's the same child. It's always the same child. My first, my heart's confection. What the world calls nothing is everything to me. It never ends. It's the perpetual loss of Tennessee.