~Today is International Babylost Mother's Day~

http://internationalbabylostmothersday.blogspot.com/

Today is International Babylost Mother's Day.  The following exert is from the blog: 

"United in grief, we find love and strength.

IBMD recognizes babylost women all over the world as mothers. Just because a woman loses her baby does not mean that she is not a mother anymore. She will be a mother for the rest of her life.

On the first Sunday in May we come together to celebrate our connection, our children and our hope for the future. IBMD is a day for love, peace, remembrance and recognition.

If you know a babylost woman why not tell her today that she is a beautiful mother by sending here one of our flowers from The Rainbow Flower Gallery."~International Babylost Mother's Day

~sampling of flowers from The Rainbow Flower Gallery~

 Today I send out comforting hugs, and prayers of peace, to all grieving Mother's around the world xxoo

The dreaded day of departure.........

~This was the day I feared the most of all, remembering how so many years ago I laid to rest your big brother and had to walk away forever.

During the entire pregnancy all that I could think of was how is this final moment going to feel?  How will I survive?  Will it hurt forever............how do I heal?


I remember that Good Friday, the day I held you for the very first time while you took your final breaths nestled gently in my arms.  As the doctor approached with the stethoscope I remember closing my eyes and holding my breath.......waiting........."I'm very sorry, but he's gone".

I sat and held you, surrounded by your father, brothers, grandmothers, aunties and uncle, and my very dear friends that were there to witness your departure to the Spirit World beyond.  My blood drained away, I felt chilled, and oh so numb.  

All I could think of was "this can't be happening to me......this just cannot be happening to me......not again......why?......this cannot be happening to me"..........


I somehow made it through the rest of the day on auto-pilot.  I dressed you in the clothing your father brought for you, enabling others to hold you.  I couldn't watch as they one-by-one said their goodbyes.


As everyone left I could only sit in silence in the hallway sobbing and aching for this beautiful little boy that had been growing and kicking inside of me only 8 short days ago.  

How does this happen?  Why does this happen?


I spent the remainder of the evening holding you, bathing you, saving your feet prints and locket of hair.  I rubbed you down with Nivea cream and dressed you one last time that day, in preparation for the cold storage.  

I remember placing you so gently inside the 'bag', taking care to wrap you in the hospital sheets, cover your face, and zip you up.  I wrapped you in blue ribbons and tied a bow, then held you waiting for the security guards to come and take you away.


Shortly after midnight I walked out of that place........my empty arms aching......my heart pounding......my thoughts so scattered.


What do I do now?


I returned home and somehow we got through the next few days of your wake service.  I could see you, hold you, caress you, kiss you.  I loved your beautiful new baby scent and focused on breathing you all in so that I could remember the details forever.


Then came the moment I feared most of all.  The dreaded day of departure.

~I didn't want to let go, but I had no choice.  It was time.  

I held you tight and kissed you one last time ♥ Letting go was excruciating. I laid you down, took one last glance, and prayed for strength to go on without you.

I felt all the eyes watching, bearing witness to my unbearable grief washing over me as I prepared to lay you down one last time.  I remember sobbing and clinging tightly to your lifeless body, saying "NO, not yet.  I can't let go yet."

I gathered my thoughts and hugged you with my eyes closed, not wanting to see that moment unfold before me as I laid you down for the last time.


We surrounded you with our precious keepsakes and gifts, and I swear my heart stopped beating as the lid was lowered knowing I'd never see your beautiful face again. 

I felt the scalding tears while I struggled to breathe......and knew that nothing was ever going to be the same again.  

I don't know how I got outside and barely remember the procession to the graveside.  The drive seemed to take forever, but passed too quickly.


The sun was setting......the damp, spring air was crisp.  As the casket was lowered into the ground and the daisies placed over  your tiny body all I could think is "my baby's in there.  A part of me is in that box and I will never see him or touch him ever again.  Oh God, please help me get through this.  I can't breathe, I can't do this.......oh somebody please help me.........."

How does a Mother leave her child's precious, newborn body in the dark, cold, dirt and not lose her freaking mind?  I have no answers, but in hindsight can only say that the human spirit is very resilient when it wants---or has---to be. 

I couldn't watch as everyone took a turn at tossing a handful of earth on top of him.  My legs were giving out and I felt too weak to stand any longer.  Please-----just get me out of here!  I can't watch this, I can't breathe, it hurts too much........

The panic overtook me.......

We buried him as the sun was setting.......and left him beneath the stars for all eternity............
  

♥ Gzaagin Nimkee ~ March 29-April 6, 2007 ♥

~It's 2 am and I'm too tired to sleep.......

~So I know that doesn't make any sense at all, but it's my overworked mind that is exhausted, but restless.  I'm sure most of us can understand that concept?

It seems that there just aren't enough hours in the day for me anymore.  I have so much that I want to do, but yet my body says NOOOOO.  I've tried ignoring my body and pushed through with my goals, only to find out that was the very wrong thing to do in this condition.  It's so frustrating!!!

So here I am, trying to cram in some words that I want to stop from swirling around in my brain making me nauseous.

First of all----this heartburn can take a hike any time now!  I am pretty sure it's related to the bazillion meds I have to swallow each day.  I think I need to add an antacid to this......Ranitidine perhaps??  I took this before for some prescribed anti-inflammatories which ended up disagreeing with me in unmentionable ways!  It was horrible......but I didn't have heartburn---so I guess it worked??

Here's a refresher for those that may not have seen the previous post about my "condition":

 

Looking at these photos isn't making this indigestion go away any faster!!!

Speaking of said "condition", I am off to the mainland tomorrow for another Lung Function Test as the results of my screening test last week were unsatisfactory.  Since this might be related to the lupus, we need to be proactive in seeking answers.  I am remaining positive and hoping for the best!

I repeat to myself......I will heal.  I am healing.  I will be healthy.  I AM HEALTHY........I have a goal to live to be 100 YEARS OLD---AND I'M GONNA (beeping) DO IT TOO!

I am determined.......and I have to say that I've been fairly successful in maintaining this cheery outlook since I made it a priority to focus on ME for a change.

Now......the other issue.  I am disgusted.  I am sickened.  I am thoroughly and utterly appalled at the insensitivity and hideous reactions of someone I deeply admired.  I don't even know what to think anymore.  I feel so..............dare I repeat myself?......DISGUSTED.  I am more disgusted with this person than I have ever been with anyone else.

Why?  Because I honestly didn't ever think that he was capable of such gross and indecent behaviour.

I know I haven't been a barrel of monkeys fun to be around, but holy hell.........look at my life for F-sakes!!!  I have done the best I can, while maintaining a level head (for the most part) through the most horrific experience that any mother can live through.

Add D-I-V-O-R-C-E and financial issues up the wing-wang and you're looking at a disaster in the making.

But the FUN DOESN'T STOP THERE!

I made a serious, life-altering decision to share some comfort with someone and it resulted in an unplanned pregnancy.  Shocking.....but as soon as I caught my breath I accepted my plight for I brought this upon myself.  I won't even pretend this was an immaculate conception.

So, here I am.........legally separated, single-mom, 4 living sons, one stillborn son, 2 sick sons, financially ruined home-owner of the Money Pit from HELL----and alone and pregnant.  Let's not forget that I also had a very angry estranged husband that cut-off my vehicle insurance and refused to handover the ownership papers so I could insure it myself (nevermind that I had been paying the vehicle insurance myself for years----can you say "begruntled" much?---k, that's the nicest thing I can say about that!) so my wheels were literally rotting away into the paved driveway for 3 yrs.  How nice----NOT.  Borrowing wheels from my mother came with an endless slew of judgment, and I had to always explain why and where I was going.  It sucked the nastiest, sweatiest, stinkiest donkey balls you can imagine!

So anyway.....where was I again????  Oh yes...........we were talking about ME.  "Badluck Shleprock"

Now back to spewing my sarcasm............

My baby was prenatally diagnosed during my fifth month with Trisomy 13---"incompatible with life"...."failure to thrive"........bla bla bla.  I was alone, pregnant, and devastated beyond comprehension.....not to mention scared out of my freaking mind!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Skip ahead......weeks before Bennett's delivery my estranged husband has me served with papers because he has suddenly decided it would be PERFECT TIMING to drag me into court and try to take away my children.......thereby eliminating my ONLY source of income should he get his way.

Life suddenly got even worse than I could even imagine, but I had no time to think about that.  I had to GO!  It was time to move to Toronto and await the impending arrival of Nimkee.  The weeks were unbearable----like the ticking of a time bomb waiting to go off at any given second.  Was I going to deliver another stillborn son?  Will he survive delivery?  Will he die during delivery?  Will he die right away?  Will I get to hold him?  Will he require surgery?  Will I ever bring him home?????????????

Bennett-Chadlen was born on March 29th, 2 days overdue.  Sadly he passed away 8 days later and my world was turned upside-down again.

Who in their right mind even thinks that going through all of this was going to be easy for me???  How can anyone think that a loving, joyful relationship is going to develop and blossom during the darkest period of my life???????

I trusted this person with my heart and soul.  I shared my deepest love, I leaned hard......I trusted he'd keep his word to be here for me?  I mean really----how could anyone pull away from someone in need such as I was??

I never promised you a rose garden.......isn't that how the song goes???

I made it clear that my life was SHIT.  Pure and utter SHIT.  Let's not sugarcoat the truth.

Yes, I needed comfort and support.....but never did I ask for anything other than loyal friendship in return.  I didn't want money, or entertainment.  I didn't want diamonds or luxurious gifts.  I didn't ask for travel, or expensive dinners out----nothing of the sort!

Just sit with me.  Listen to me.  Hold me.  Care for me.  Laugh with me.

I loved in return.  I was grateful and thankful......and always made it known through my words of gratitude, my affection, my attentions.........I gave it all-----everything that money cannot buy.

Me.......emotionally destitute, nearly bankrupt-----literally shattered----but yet I had it in me to show love, and compassion......and I listened and gave comfort.

I took....but I GAVE just as much or more than I was given.

Where am I now????  Sitting here.......alone........and DISGUSTED.

K.....it's 3 am and I've said all I need to say for one night. Excuse the ramblings of an "allegedly" insane house-mom.  Whatever......Ask yourself.  Where would you be?  You can barely survive being loved and wanted.....let alone have to endure anything quite this emotionally devastating.  I know your story and it melted my heart and made me want to hold on tighter.  What's your excuse???

For what it's worth.......my heart hasn't stopped loving----despite how disgusted I am right now.  Try looking at MY LIFE and stop feeling so victimized, used, and wounded.  Nobody here has harmed you.  You tell me what is a lie in any of this?  Focus on the positive......and be proud of what I have survived and overcome.  Feel lucky.  Feel honoured.  That is how I feel about you.......it's all unconditional.......

Do not blame me because all you can comprehend is negativity.  If all you ever see is the negative and assume the worst in every situation-----then that's all you're ever going to feel.  You will always feel negative and irritable.....uncomfortable......fearful.

I have a right to react to the constant rejection and miscommunication......and don't act shocked.  You have treated me far worse for way less............and that's the honest truth.  Own your mistakes.  I haven't denied mine. 

My apologies are sincere.  My love is real.  My loyalty is unfaltering.  My forgiveness is never-ending.  I don't fear anything, or anyone----but I am choosing to move on with my life and not look back.  I deserve better than what I've allowed and accepted. 

I don't think I will ever understand how anyone can be so mean.  MEAN PEOPLE SUCK!

~The Heartbreak Blues~

 ~It's been a very trying week.  I don't know what to say or do, or how to accurately describe how I feel right now.

Where do I begin?  I guess the best place would be to use the one word that says it best.  LOVE.

Love is responsible for all of this.

I am guilty of loving too much.  I have wanted too much.  I have needed too much.  I held on too much.  I feared too much.  I hurt too much.

I can't speak for someone else and this post is only about me, so I can only write about my intentions, thoughts, and deeds.

I've been through a lot in the last several years, which started with my ex-husband's brain injury, but the culmination was the loss of Bennett.

When I watched his tiny body go into that little wee casket, I swear my heart stopped for a moment.  I didn't want to see the lid closing, knowing I would never see his beautiful, little face ever again......but yet I couldn't tear my eyes away.  I didn't want to miss my final moments with his physical presence before me.

I held him while he passed away, and watched his siblings grieve. 

I clipped some of his hair, and made gold embossed feet imprints for keepsakes. 

I rubbed his delicate tissues with Nivea cream and prepared him for the cold storage in the morgue.  I attached his identifying name tag, then wrapped and tied him up with a bow.  I placed his 8-day old body into the body-bag myself, kissed his tiny face one more time, then zipped it shut and waited for the security guards to come and take him away.

At the funeral home I removed him from the bag and unwrapped him in preparation for his final bath and dressing.  The tears flowed and it was difficult to breathe.  My sister, mother, and father were in attendance. 
His naming ceremony is chronicled here:  http://my-baby-is-an-angel.blogspot.com/p/meaning-of-nimkee.html 

I got into my father's car and held Bennett on my lap.  We took a drive by my home to show him where his family lives.  I took him home to my father's, which was my family homestead for generations.  His body laid in wake for 3 days and we laid him to rest at sunset, on April 10th.

Kissing him and holding him one last time was excruciating.  Placing him into the casket was indescribable.  The closing of the lid was like a dagger in my heart.  The drive to the cemetary is a blur in my mind.

Can you even imagine what it was like to watch his tiny casket being lowered into the ground and have daisies and dirt thrown on top of him?  I couldn't watch.  I felt rage amongst the tears.

~My baby is in here.  Visits to the cemetary are very difficult.

I spent the next few months grieving alone.  Each day was a struggle.  Each breath forced.  I had no appetite, and sleep was my only reprieve.

One day I received a notification that someone from my past had reached out to me.  I graciously accepted it and from that day forward everything changed.

He made himself available to me to lean on in my grief.  He made the breathing easier, and the genuine joy and smiles returned, even though I had thought it impossible.

I've made mistakes during this intense period of grieving.  Not only was my heart broken beyond belief, but I was caught up in a support & custody battle for my boys, division of assets so we'd have a home to live in, and outside interference from people that don't know me.

While I thought that I was being understood and respected, I have found out how wrong I was.

There has been very little compassion and acceptance, next to no trust.......and false empathy.

If any of the love was real, then it wouldn't even be possible for this person to hurt me like this.  Loving relationships and friendships don't end with anger and heated animosity because they have been loved too much.

I don't begrudge his decision to leave me.  I came to terms with that years ago, the day he moved out on his own.  The contact since that day has been sketchy at best, but it was enough to get me through the darkest days of sorrow.

I loved too much......trusted too much......needed and wanted too much.  All in all, I have been very grateful and open about my feelings, wants, and needs.  He can't reciprocate the love or understand what I need and why I am the way I am.

He has no patience left for me.  No caring.  No concern for my feelings.  No kind words or apologies.  Nothing.  Just requests for the return of items, public attempts at humiliation, police threats if I try to see him face to face to talk, and nasty emails.  He claims he is happy with all of this, even though his actions speak otherwise.  I definitely am not one bit happy with any of this.

Why can't he understand and feel compassion?  Just give me loyal friendship and trust I don't have evil or selfish motives.  Why is it impossible to maintain friendship?  I don't understand the hard feelings because I don't possess that within me.

If you don't want to be with someone anymore, why not just walk away peacefully and keep it all private?

The biggest question in my mind is WHY?  Why is it easy to be mean to me?  What did I do to deserve this?

How can anyone expect me to go through all of this and not need and want someone for comfort?

I don't deserve any of this.  I did nothing wrong.  I have been fair, loving, and loyal.  I've been appreciative and publicly showed my devotion and gratitude in photo albums on facebook.

Now I'm on my own again.......struggling and requesting patience and understanding, compassion and peace from those around me.

My heart is battered and bruised.....mangled beyond recognition.  I am hurting and feeling very alone.

Perhaps the saddest revelation of all is that I feel safest alone in my heartache.  Trusting and loving people has only resulted in further losses and emotional scars.  Relying on others has been impossible.

I don't know how to get through this, but I know that I will-----one day at a time.

Somebody help me.......I've got the heartbreak blues...........

~Bennett-Chadlen ~ NICU Days~

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

These pics were taken during Bennett-Chadlen's stay in the NICU at The Hospital for Sick Children in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. Much love and Nimkee blessings to those who understood and accepted our unconditional love and pure desire to have Bennett-Chadlen in our lives for as long as possible.

The days and nights were long, but I just couldn't get enough of him.  I stood for hours and hours just gazing upon his beautiful face.  He had gorgeous dark, wavy hair and the silkiest baby skin imaginable.  I loved to feel the warmth of his hand in mine as he gripped onto my finger.  I will never forget the times he opened his eyes and looked at me, and stirred his arms and feet ever so slightly.  I still remember his sweet new baby fragrance, and the way he felt in my arms.

I didn't get a lot of the "firsts" that all eager parents await when their babies are born.

I didn't ever get to hear him cry.  He was 4 days old the very first time I got to kiss him, all captured by the photographer's lens.

The first time I held him was the day I rocked him to his forever sleep.


Our lives have been forever touched by this beautiful, courageous soul.

Gzaagin Nimkee, Baamaapii Gawaabmin, Until We Meet Again xxoo

~Reflections of Cystic Fibrosis~

http://www.cysticfibrosis.ca/(click here for more info)

I remember a visit to Sick Kids Hospital in Toronto, Ontario back in 2004.  Tristan (5--diagnosed with Spherocytosis which is a blood disease) was there to have his spleen and gallbladder removal surgery and we had to spend 11 days on the surgical floor as he healed.

I took advantage of having someone to sit with Tristan and I took a brief jaunt to grab a coffee and a snack.  In the nurses/admission area I saw a woman holding a very sick looking little baby.  He was several months old, and had tubes attached to him.  The mother had a very sad glint in her eyes, but smiled at me and said "Hi" as I approached.

My mommy senses kicked in and I just had to take a peak at her baby boy and let her know how cute I thought he was.  I then asked her what was wrong.  She told me he was born with Cystic Fibrosis and his life expectancy was nearing its end.  My heart took a leap and I felt my eyes instantly fill with tears.  I instinctively reached out and placed my hand on her arm and looked at her and told her how sorry I was to hear that as I had also lost a baby to stillbirth and it was a pain that I could relate to.

How does a parent maintain composure as they know their child's life is ending?  At that moment in time I couldn't even conceive of experiencing and surviving such a thing.

She thanked me for listening as she shared her son's all too brief life story and explained that all they could do at that point was provide him with comfort measures and hope for the best.  The only thing which may prolong his life was if another family lost their baby and donated the necessary tiny lungs to another family in need.

I walked away with tears and just felt such an incredibly overwhelming sense of sorrow and heartache for this woman.  Thoughts of her and her baby stayed with me over those next several days, weeks, months, and even years.  Every time I hear the words 'Cystic Fibrosis', this woman and her beautiful son instantly appear in my mind.

Despite the sadness which she was experiencing, she was still able to smile and truly appreciate that I had stopped and allowed her to speak with me.  She said most people just keep on walking and go about their day.  She just needed someone to listen, show compassion and empathy, and provide that little bit of comfort in that moment.

This link gives hope for the future for many families that are struggling to survive with Cystic Fibrosis.  Click here for more personal stories of hopes, dreams, and determination.

As we are in the midst of our holiday season, please remember all those that are spending their holidays in hospitals around the world, watching their loved ones slip away. 

What can you do?  Consider the generous, self-less gift of organ donation to help another family in need.

Life----it's in you to give.

~BREAKING THE BARRIERS~

~Infant Loss----just another 'catch phrase' perhaps?  It's easy to allow our eyes to quickly flit over the words and try not to give it another thought, for to acknowledge such a thing often conjures up images, thoughts, and feelings we'd rather not consider.

Inevitably upon meeting and getting to know others, the question of 'children' comes up?

"Do you have any children?  How many?"

{Hmm......how do I answer this one?  What do I say?  How honest should I be?  Will this person be able to handle the truth?  What might they say when I utter the words}:

"I am the proud Mother of 6 boys.  4 are still living, BUT sadly---2 of them died."

What happens next is interesting.  Quite often the response goes something like this:

.......'wow, 6 boys.  You must be a very busy Mama'.

{Uhm, excuse me......did you not hear me say "2 of them died"?  or are we going to pretend I didn't just say that?}

It's moments like this that often strikes a chord with us 'Angel Mommies' and causes many us to feel some guilt over having uttered those dreadful words that may make you squirm in discomfort.  It can often lead to this internal dialogue that skips  through our minds as we make a mental note not to mention it again in case I once again face someone that can't handle the truth, or ask themselves: 

"why would she tell me that?  Doesn't she know we don't talk about stuff like this?"

I have created a charity inspired by the Loving Memory of my own 'Angel Babies'.  I named my project after Bennett-Chadlen because he spent time in the NICU (neo-natal intensive care unit) following his birth, where he spent 8 days before he passed away in my arms.  This charity specifically deals with providing comfort and support items to other families with babies in the NICU at Sick Kids Hospital in Toronto, Ontario, Canada where he spent his entire 8 day life.

I am currently in the process of coming up with some creative ideas to spread Infant Loss Awareness, as well as hoping to inspire others to think about families like mine that have newborns fighting for their lives in NICU's around the world.  

It's not easy to put myself  'out there' and trust that others will take notice, or even care enough to donate or help out.  

I've read stories of others like myself that want to make a difference and quite often we have similar stories of experience.  Sometimes people just don't show any interest.  

It can be debilitating, and certainly soul-crushing when you share such intimate details of your life with the general public and receive very little feedback or offers of kind words, donations, or even enquire what we're up to and why?  It certainly isn't encouraging!

Why do we do this?  Why do we share our experiences, and reach out to help others??

I can certainly say without a shadow of a doubt that most of us just have this insatiable desire to help others like ourselves feel less alone in their trials and healing journeys.  We share a common-bond with these families and we wear the internal, emotional scars which we often hide so effectively so as not to discomfort others around us.  

If I can reach out and touch the lives of just one family out there, and help ease their burdens and let them know they're not alone.....then it eases my own heartache.

I know how difficult it is to share our babies with a society that isn't quite ready to "know" about Infant Loss yet.  

It is difficult to be courageous and brave, or worse yet---show vulnerability.

There is something  about birth defects and fetal anomolies that send some people into denial mode, and/or question our sanity for even giving birth to these babies at all since some of us knew prenatally what their plight in life might be.  

We just need you all to understand and respect that we love and want our babies with every fibre of our being.

With the assistance and generous donation of items, time and talent from my eldest son, his musically talented  comrades, local businesses, a local park, food vendor, volunteer bakers, a magician, the local newspaper and their writers/photographers, my friends and a handful of family members, I was able to make my 'dream' a reality!  We can't forget those of you that came out to be entertained, and so graciously donated your $ to such a worthy cause.

~Introducing Bennett opened our Benefit Concert~

So---as I sit here tonight with thoughts of WHAT, WHERE, WHEN, & HOW swirling around in this vast chamber I call my imagination---I can't help but wonder how to promote my fund-raising agenda yet once again.

While I meditate on this, images of Nimkee pop up into my head.  I can see his sweet little face, fingers and toes.  I can remember his fresh newborn baby fragrance.  I remember how good it felt to meet him and gaze into his eyes that very first time.....and how it felt to finally hold him in my arms.

While some may call me crazy for even continuing my pregnancy after his prenatal diagnosis, I have to just put those thoughts out of my mind and move forward with my goal.........

~ I hope that one day the world will be ready for us ~

Mean People Suck

~Mean people are everywhere.  We all know people that for some unknown reason will gratify themselves by lashing out at others, and find great satisfaction in being as vile as they possibly can----most likely for shock value and attention.

A few days ago I wrote a post about each person's ~INHERIT RIGHT TO LIFE~, and made reference to my own experience with my deceased 8 day old newborn son.  Imagine my surprise to log into my email the following day to find some comments written that clearly were meant for me, as a personal attack---but what this person probably didn't consider is that there are other grieving mothers, fathers, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, family friends----that all have their own form of grief over the loss of their own loved ones. It is very harsh and cruel to so bluntly just come right out and say to someone:  "get over it".

I mean really......would you stand in the centre of a bereavment group meeting and tell everyone that "there are more important things to worry about on this planet" than dead babies??

These words did not harm me in any way whatsoever, because I fully expect that there will be some heartless prick somewhere in the world that gets their cheap jollies by being judgmental and spiteful for whatever reason.  I know that by writing publicly I am possibly inducing discomfort in an individual's life, triggering their desire to lash out and be nasty.

You personally may not care about my life, and you may laugh at me and think that I'm a joke, but at the start and end of each day it's your own face that you have to look at and I'm guessing that brings you more discomfort than anything I could ever write here.  I will assume that it's safe to say that you have very little joy in your life, for if you did, you wouldn't bother spending a moment of your life reading what I write, and feel compelled to anonymously leave your snide comments.

We all have a public persona that exudes from us whenever we choose to walk out of our homes and enter into society.  The internet is just another platform for freedom of expression, and while I could have chosen to write anonymously, I have the courage and the strength to use my real identity, and I possess the ability to persevere despite how you, or others, may perceive me.

I stand behind my words, and I don't care what anyone says to me, or about me.  We are all entitled to our opinions, and I fully respect each individual's right to express what they think, feel, or believe---even if I don't agree with their viewpoint.

We were born with the gift of free-will.  I suggest that you use yours wisely.

I don't feel the need to anonymously attack someone for choosing to express their point of view in whichever format they choose, especially if it concerns something as sacred as death of a much loved and wanted newborn, or child.

I choose not to hate the hater.  Rather, I feel pity for someone that has such a shallow take on life, and doesn't possess the ability to feel empathy or compassion for another person's pain.

It's easy to kick someone when they strike a nerve----but it takes great strength of character to turn and walk away with grace and dignity. 

What must it feel like to live in this person's skin??  What makes a person that bitter?

I will never understand, and I accept that no matter where we go, there will always be internally ugly people in our midst.

The next time you feel the need to be hateful and mean, consider that I'm not the only person that will read it.  You just may harm some innocent person that will take personal offense to your statements.  Attack me if you will, but leave others out of it.  Grief is a difficult thing to overcome, and your words can truly hurt those that I assume you do not have a personal vendetta against.

Please, show some respect.  One day someone you love will die, and you won't want someone to be so heartless to you.  What goes around, comes around.

It's easy to hide behind a curtain and spew your hatred, like a coward.  You can insinuate that I'm a fraud all you want.  You can slander me if you wish----it's your right----your freedom of speech.  Go to it.

Consider this your 5 minutes of fame.


"I've learned to love my haters.  You need it more than I do."