Prayer?

I am very nervous about going for an infertility consultation this Friday. I don't trust doctors in general but OBs in particular. Just now, I thought: I'll pray about it and everything will be fine. Then I remembered that things would be "fine" in God's terms but not in mine. God obviously has a plan for me that does not coincide what I want for myself or what I consider to be conducive to leading a fulfilling, content life. This is my problem- not God's and I realize that a major paradigm shift is in order on my part; I know that I have to accept things as they are and learn to be happy with what God wants for me. This is very hard, though, because I am only a human being, a grieving mother and a mother who fears never being able to hold a newborn (of my own) ever again. It is so hard to tell a mother whose arms are empty that God knows what is best. So, after I realized that I probably would not get the outcome I wanted from praying, I thought that it may be pointless to bother at all. This sounds so bad, I know- and it is bad. But if God knows what we want, anyhow, before we ask and if He ultimately decides is best for us, why should we bother to tell Him what he already knows and has already decided? It feels very stupid to have to gravel to God for no reason. Maybe this is the point. It is humbling to gravel- especially when one has felt turned down or let down before and when one knows that the person to whom the graveling is done already has an answer. I know that we should always humble ourselves to everyone but especially to God. Also, to gravel like this displays a real faith and hope. It shows that we haven't given up even though things haven't gone our way in the past. On the other hand, it seems selfish to bother only because there is hope that, eventually, God will do what we ask. Maybe eventually this superficial desire becomes true love and submission despite what we do or don't get. I don't know. I am angry with God. I feel like it is really cruel to never again give me the opportunity to have a baby after He took my last one. I know that the devil temps us to feel and think things like this... I have a lot of crosses to bear right now, and if they will bring me closer to Jesus, whom I long to love more than anything or anyone else, I can do it as long as He helps me. I am afraid of the future- all the potential future crosses. This shows a real lack of faith, trust and hope. But this is how it is. I am not perfect; I am a lowly and diseased human being suffering as a result of the sins of my first parents. I wake up now and think: what bad thing will happen today? I should wake up and thank God for a new day but I don't. I wish I could. At least now I am used to Barbara being gone. I now know that it was not a bad dream; that it really did happen. In the first few days after her death I actually thought that if I prayed hard enough either God would enable me to wake up from the terrible nightmare or that He would raise her from the dead like Jesus raised Lazarus. I remember when one of the NICU nurses tried to steal hope from me, I told her that my God can do anything- He can heal the sick, walk on water and raise the dead. I had such faith. I guess then I had no choice but to hope- what else can a parent do? A parent can't ever lose hope when it comes to their children. I feel very let down. When a person lets you down, it is OK to be upset. It is OK to have issues trusting someone who has let you down. While we always must forgive and forget, it is perfectly OK to be traumatized, angry or hurt. When it comes to God, though, how does one deal with feeling so let down when one has put such trust in Him? How does one deal with this? Is is simply a matter of time and healing? I see, now, what a terrible human I am and that I am a terrible servant of God. I know that I still love Him and I fear Him for sure because I know how cruel He can be and what He is capable of but I have such a hard time with the trust part. So I am just not sure what praying accomplishes. Of course, I can praise God and thank God because, even though I am feeling so bad, I still know that He is praiseworthy and that I do have much to be thankful for. I can pray for others and for the poor souls. So, prayer isn't the issue- asking for help is. Maybe this is because I am not supposed to ask for help- maybe I have to begin to understand the kind of help God gives rather than expect Him to bow down to my earthy definition of help which is superficial compared to the sort of help that procures for a person a place in eternal happiness after death. It is easy to say this and think this but it is much harder to feel it. I have made friends with St. Rita recently. There is a lovely statue of her in our church that I only recently began paying much attention to. It is life- sized with a kneeler in front of it. I have been wanting to light a candle in front if it but there are always already lots of candles and flowers there (she must be a very popular saint!). I have been kneeling in front of it, though, and praying. She is the patron saint of desperate causes and I feel as if I- in general- am a desperate cause. St. Rita wanted to become a nun but, out of obedience, she married the man her parents wanted her to marry. He was abusive, cruel and unGodly yet she prayed for him. Before he died, he confessed his sins and turned to God. St. Rita's sons, out of anger, wanted to kill the man who had mortally wounded their father and, knowing this, St. Rita prayed that they might die before being able to commit the mortal sin of murder and also that they might receive God and repent before death. Her sons accepted God before dying and they died before they could commit murder. After her husbands and sons died, she became an Augustinian nun and eventually acquired the stigmata on her forehead. She was always ill and in much pain towards the end of her life but never stopped praying and loving God. As Catholics, we can ask for the intercession of saints like St. Rita. Because saints were human- like us- we can understand them and relate to their suffering while also hoping that they can relate to us and our suffering. Maybe when it is hard to ask God for things because of trust issues, it is easier to have someone like St. Rita as a go- between (even though this is not, of course, necessary). When we find it hard to speak with God, we can always speak with the Saints. I have been asking for St. Rita's help for the past two weeks and have also started calling on St. Pio for help, especially in matters of sin, confession and penance. I always go to The Little Flower or the Blessed Mother when I have needs for my children and especially when it comes to dealing with the pain of losing my youngest. I have to say, though, that St. Rita and St. Pio have become very good "friends" of mine, lately. So, maybe they can help me when it comes to speaking with God. They can be my mediators. This is surely better than not communicating with Him at all! Also, as the saints were once human, they can. perhaps, plead my case to God in a way that I can't since I am only earthly and not both from earth and of heaven. St. Rita and St. Pio- pray for us!

More on Infertility and D&C Advice

I realize that infertility has nothing to do with mourning over the loss of a child- normally- but, in my case, the two are very much connected. Before I had Barbara, infertility was never an issue. My husband and I never had to "try" to have children; we were just blessed without much planning and praying. However, it has been 6 months of planning, charting and praying and nothing has happened yet. Today I just found out that I am not pregnant- again. 48 hours after I had Barbara, I needed a D&C for retained placental fragments. I had no idea what the consequences (however rare) of this procedure might be. I was totally unaware that D&Cs- especially postpartum- can cause adhesions which can lead to infertility (Ashermans Syndrome). No one told me this. I simply had the procedure and was sent on my way. At the time, I was too stressed out to even ask about possible consequences because my baby was dying in the NICU. Normally, I would have tons of questions and concerns but I could only think about getting it done and over with so that I could be with my baby. I was terrified that she would die while I was getting the D&C... So, I was just not present intellectually or emotionally. I was not told that nursing would increase the risk of infertility and I was not offered an estrogen shot to reduce the chance of adhesions forming. I was not even told that this could impact my fertility. I know that I consented to medical treatment on my "informed consent" form but I had not- in any way, shape or form- been informed. It has been a hard 9 (almost 10) months for me... First my baby was ill and in the NICU and then she died. Now I can't seem to conceive. I wonder why God would do this to me. It has become very hard for me to leave the house sometimes because there seems to be pregnant women everywhere. We have tons who attend the TLM and, every Sunday; I have to see them and hear them brag and talk loudly about their pregnancies. While I am happy for them, I just want to curl up in a ball and sob after Mass. I can't, though, because we always go to the cemetery after Mass. That makes it worse because I am already upset that everyone seems to be getting pregnant except for me and then I have to deal with my dead child on top of it. I just sit there and look at the place where grass is now starting to grow and I just ask "why?" I see other women with their babies and I just don't get it. Now, I can't have any more. Sometimes I don't want to go to Mass because it just hurts too much. I know that we are supposed to take up our crosses and follow Jesus but sometimes it feels like I have too many crosses to take up and I am running out of strength and sometimes even faith. I try to offer up my suffering but that doesn't change the fact that I suffer. I have stopped talking with anyone about this because I only feel hurt or angry with the responses. Some people say that I am just old. Other people tell me that God knows what is best. A few tell me that it will just take time. I especially am sick of hearing about how God knows what's best... It seems like God hasn't known what is best for me for some time! I just want to hear someone say "That really sucks!" Anyhow, I want to let women know that a D&C is not always the way to go. For early miscarriages, a drug can be administered which carries much less risk of infertility or you can just wait it out- often the pregnancy ends and nature takes over. You could also call a professional herbalist as well for advice. Getting a D&C can be very traumatic and who needs more drama after losing a baby? If a D&C is absolutely necessary, an estrogen shot can be administered in order to help the uterus heal properly. For postpartum D&Cs, be aware that nursing can increase the risk of scar tissue forming because nursing causes a decrease in estrogen which impairs the uteruses ability to properly heal. I don't think that an estrogen shot can be given to a nursing mom because it may dry up the milk supply and/ or contaminate the milk and get into the baby's blood stream. Bear in mind that a postpartum D&C carries with it the highest risk of infertility and, for every uterine surgery (ie. C- section) the risk is multiplied. If a postpartum D&C is suggested, ask about alternatives or what can be done to lesson your risk of infertility. My situation is ironic in that I pumped for my baby in hopes that my milk would help to heal her but it made no difference. At the same time, pumping may have increased my infertility risk factor even more... Still, if I had it to do all over again, I would do the same thing. The good news is that women can be evaluated for scar tissue formation and, depending on how severe it is, laser surgery can be done to treat it. This may not work for everyone and there is always a risk that the adhesions may reform but, for some people, it is better than doing nothing. There are also enzyme supplements that can be taken that cut down on inflammation which could lesson the risk of adhesions being formed. Vitalzym and Wobenzym are two name- brand choices. Castor oil packs and fertility massage have also been considered helpful. I believe that women can be treated very poorly by OB/GYNs and by doctors in general. I believe that women are rarely informed of the possible consequences and side effects of certain treatments and procedures and that the whole person of a woman is rarely looked at. It is all about symptoms and alleviating the symptoms as soon as possible rather that dealing with the bigger picture. The sad thing is that most of us feel very intimidated by doctors and, especially at the office of an OB/GYN, we are put in a very vulnerable and often demeaning situation. It is hard to feel confident and effective while sitting in a paper gown or laying with our feet in stirrups. In this position, we definitely feel as though we are not in charge! But the thing is that we are. We are in charge of our bodies and what is done to them. I encourage all of you (women) out there to educate yourselves about your bodies so that you can advocate for yourself when necessary. I encourage you to research common treatments, diagnoses and procedures so that you have an understanding of what is being said and can voice your own opinions and concerns. I encourage you to decline anything that you may feel is unnecessary or potentially dangerous or postpone something until you have sufficiently researched it and/ or have gotten a second opinion. I encourage the use of herbs under the guidance of a trained, professional herbalist and the use of Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) as long as pagan or non- Christian ideology are not a part of the treatment. I also encourage women to seek out either Naturopathic Practitioners and/ or Naturopathic Physicians to compliment any modern medical treatments. I would also suggest learning basic medical terminology and using correct medical terms for anatomical parts; this suggests that you are (or would like to be treated as though you are) on an even playing field with your doctor. Finally, expect to be treated as a child of God rather than a machine or a liability. Expect respect and expect to be treated as a partner in your own health care. If your doctor treats you poorly (cuts you off, won't listen to you, won't take you seriously, etc.) find a new one. I would also encourage you to bring someone with you as an advocate and as a third party- preferably someone who knows a little bit about medicine or your medical condition or concerns. Fertility is nothing to treat lightly. It is something that we don't think about when we are fertile but feel terrible about when we are infertile. No one can understand what it feels like to be infertile unless they have dealt with it themselves just like no one knows what it is like to lose a baby unless they have lost one themselves. I feel very alone as a Catholic woman with infertility issues... I feel very isolated and lonely. I wonder when God will think that enough is enough. I pray for a baby. But I know- better than a lot of people- that praying isn't getting. I try to be His handmaid even when what He wants for me differs from what I want for myself. This is really hard! Doing His will with a joyful heart is not easy! It is very hard to believe that God loves me... I sometimes think that He really must hate me! I feel bad for all of the Catholic women who are dealing with infertility; it is especially hard for us because we are (historically speaking) supposed to have large families. I often feel much less Catholic than moms who have lots of kids even though I know that this is silly. Dealing with infertility after the loss of a child is a real insult to injury and I would not wish it upon anyone. I find that very few fellow Catholics can understand us and sympathize with us and our priests, try as they may, cannot ever understand the longing to be a mother and the pain that comes from not being able to be one. For further information: Before you get a D&C, please check out: http://dandcnow.info/home.html On Ashermans Syndrome: http://www.ashermans.org/home/ On Natural Fertility Help (enzymes, castor oil packs, herbs, etc.) http://natural-fertility-info.com/ NOTE: While this site is highly informative and it does offer some quality products, I would advise people to use caution when thinking about ordering any herbal kits. Herbs are medicine and each of us has different needs and issues and taking many herbs at once rather than one herb or a few at a time that have been suggested to us (for our unique and individual needs) by a professional herbalist may either harm us or do nothing at all. For example, in some of the kits, the herbs used can produce results after a few months of use rather than a few weeks. Also, in such small quantities of many herbs, there isn't enough of any one particular herb to do much good. Furthermore, herbs such as licorice root should not be taken for extended time periods. Thus, I HIGHLY suggest finding an qualified and professional herbalist through the American Herbalist Guild or from the Naturally Healthy Site. www.americanherbalistsguild.com/ and/ or http://www.naturallyhealthy.org "Naturally Healthy" is owned by a Christian woman who is a qualified herbalist and also a Woman's Health Educator. To find a Catholic OB who understands the sanctity of life, Natural Family Planning, etc. http://onemoresoul.com/nfp-directory To find a Catholic Doctor: http://www.cathmed.org/contact/ To find a Catholic Therapist in times of need (ie. depression caused by loss or infertility): http://www.catholictherapists.com/find-a-therapist.html For information on how to be an advocate for your own health care and women's health in general: The Naturally Healthy Woman- Whole Health for the Whole Woman by Shonda Parker

A Request for my Fellow Catholics

Brothers and Sisters in Christ: as the weather warms up and immodest fashion becomes more prevalent, please have respect for your fellow parishioners and for their souls and dress with modesty, dignity and respect. Jesus tells us that someone has already committed adultery if he/ she has thad impure thoughts about another person. Leading another to think impure thoughts is leading another to commit adultuery. Adultery is a mortal sin; if someone dies with a mortal sin on their soul they go to hell! Think about this! Also, the real show is the sacrifice of the Mass rather than your cleavage (front and back), behind or abdominal muscles (or lack thereof). If you are more interested in making a show of yourself and distracting others from the real show of the day, something is wrong that needs fixed! Remember that the Real Presence of Jesus is in the church; think about that before you put on your tube tops, sleeveless shirts, mini skirts and tight shorts, skirts or pants! Humble yourself before the Lord and dress as if you were going to meet a King (because you are!).

Burying Our Dead

We are supposed to bury our dead; this is a Corporal Work of Mercy. As Catholics, we are also supposed to always remember the poor souls in Purgatory and honor and remember our dead. I take burying the dead very seriously and believe that praying for them, honoring them and remembering them is all a part of burying them. Because our Church commands this of us, I believe the Church also commands us to do all the things that fall under the "Bury the Dead" umbrella. This is why we have decided to save up in order to move our baby to a cemetery that would better enable us to honor her, as God commands. I believe it is dishonorable to take things from the graves of dead people and anyone who does this does something that is terribly wrong. This is the secular side of it; even the law recognizes that stealing from graves and vandalizing graves is a crime. The Catholic side of it is that Catholics are not supposed to throw away things like blessed palms. Also, while rosaries and other religious things may not be blessed, any person who could callously throw these objects away ought to really think about whether or not he wants to be a Catholic. Also, a cemetery that follows the secular calendar rather than the Church's Liturgical calendar should not refer to itself as Catholic. The liturgical season of Easter begins at Easter and ends at Pentecost- not one week after Easter which was when the cemetery staff stole all of the things from my baby's grave. The truth is that I don't feel I can properly honor my baby with the absurd rules to which Cleveland Catholic Cemeteries forces its families to adhere. I also feel like we should not support the outrageous fees they charge when it comes to buying a (useless) concrete slab to go under a stone. This is a hindrance, for sure, in honoring and burying the dead. It is also exploitive and thus very, very wrong. Now, I try to follow all the rules of my Church but when it comes to being able to bury my dead but I will have to opt out of burying them in a cemetery run by Catholic Cemeteries Association (CCC). Because CCC has the only Catholic cemeteries in my area, I will have to move my baby to a cemetery that is not Catholic. I will have to break the rules... I will have to do as my own conscience dictates and will have to keep in mind that fellow Catholics and Catholic organizations are not infallible. What gets me is that CCC has the approval and endorsement of out Bishop! Even so, I must do what I know is right. The irony is that the local secular cemetery will actually allow us to be more Catholic than the Catholic one will! I also believe that being able to honor our dead is a healthy way to work through our pain and grief. We have to be able to express ourselves in order to heal. If we can't express ourselves in away that we know is beneficial to us, then we should look into arranging things so that we can. I want a nice stone for my baby. I want nice flowers and to be able to put up little wreaths and other objects to honor her existence and also celebrate her earthly death which has led to her happiness in heaven. I also want to praise God in this way and let Him know that I feel better knowing that, even though my baby is dead, she is with Him. Right now, I go to the cemetery (which is hard enough) and become very upset that I can't really honor my baby and do things for her. While I know that she is in heaven, I still feel the need (as a mom) to make things pretty for her and care for her in some capacity. I also think that my kids feel the need to take care of their baby sister somehow; I believe this is therapeutic for them and also helps them deal with the fact that their sister has died (the youngest ones often forget or are in denial). Recently, I learned that it is OK to cry very hard and ask God "why?" It is OK to let Him know that I am mad at Him sometimes and that I doubt His love for me because He took my baby to be with Him. Ever since, I have felt much closer to Him. It was silly to think that I could hide anything from Him, anyhow, because He knows and sees all! I just think that, now, I voluntarily engage Him in conversation thereby inviting Him into my life. It has been a freeing experience. I suppose being free to honor my child will also feel freeing. It will feel good to decorate her grave as I see ft; to even plant forget-me- nots or daisies over her. It will feel good to leave her Easter things up until after Pentecost. It will feel good to know that whatever I leave will be there when I return and that I can be responsible for her in death as I was in life. This will make me feel very, very good! I don't know what the point of this post is...

Real Charity in the Name of Christ

I am posting this on both of my blogs because of the way this situation has affected me and the feelings and thoughts it has provoked. Yesterday we went to Mass as usual and, as usual, the thought crossed my mind that, perhaps "we" (meaning me, of course) were just too tired to go. It is funny how all kinds of excuses can be made for not going to Mass... My gosh- the list would be an interesting blog in itself. But, as usual, I decided that we must go. Today I felt more positive than usual of this fact and even had to deal with my husband really not wanting to go. Still, I would not hear about staying home. I just felt like we absolutely had to get to Mass. During Mass, while I was in the back of the church with my youngest child, I saw a very small, very sick and very sad looking girl walk in. She was not dressed like everyone else and, because of how terrible she looked, I thought that she was either in some terrible trouble or, perhaps strung out on something. She sat down and began crying. I didn't know what to do. I thought that I should go to her but I thought that maybe this would embarrass her and I didn't want to make her feel any worse than she already did. I did not want to seem insulting or nosey, either. But she only got worse and I just had to make sure that she was OK. So, I walked up to her and gently asked her if she was OK. She was crying and I could tell by the way she looked at me that she was not offended or insulted. I put my arm around her and I asked her if she wanted to talk. She was sobbing hysterically and could not talk. Once she calmed down, we went outside so that she could talk. I can't write what we spoke about but she needed help- she needed medical attention and she also needed to speak with a priest ASAP. Our parish priest was in the rectory while the TLM celebrant was saying Mass so I took her to the pastor and told him that she was in need of some spiritual guidance. This was an understatement but I was trying to be respectful or her privacy. He was preparing for Mass and would not be able to speak with her until after the next Mass- about 2 hours later. I thought that, perhaps, the TLM celebrant would help her so we waited for him behind the church but, unfortunately, he had gone out the front and was gone. While rushing around trying to find him, I saw a Franciscan Friar in the church and asked him for help. I quickly explained her situation and told her that it may really be a matter of life and death. He replied that he was only there for the Mass and so couldn't help (?). Because the girl was in terrible pain and needed to go to the ER, we drove to the Church a few blocks away in hopes that the priest there would help her. My husband went into the sacristy after knocking and calling the priest's name and was yelled at by the priest. He told my husband that he couldn't help until the Mass was over, even though he was not the priest saying it. So, we drove back to our parish and waited. I tried to keep her as happy as possible (which was hard considering the pain and circumstance she was in) and I also tried to keep her there so that she could speak to the priest and then we could make sure that she got treatment. My husband got the priest and he was kind enough to be of service to her. She told him as much as she could and he advised her- but not without a little lecture on morals... which I thought was odd considering the predicament she was in but his goal is to save souls and this is where he was coming from and I can appreciate, understand and respect that. (This is one of the reasons why we love this priest...) So we went to the hospital where a friend of mine works. This friend is a good, trustworthy person who is also pro- life- I would trust the lives of my children in his capable and compassionate hands. It turned out that she was OK and now, I have a wonderful friend who is a very beautiful, strong and kind person. While we were in the ER, I felt so blessed to be there for her- with her. I saw that she was scared and that she had to humble herself quite a bit during the time I was helping her and I was so grateful that this person- who was a stranger- had chosen to put her trust in me. Now, I know that I didn't do a thing; it was God that did. She told me that she had never been to my church; but on that day she decided that she had to go. She had to be close to God. She didn't know what else to do and felt that she just had to go. I told her that I almost didn't come that day... She never lost her faith. She looked at me outside of the church and, despite her pain and fear, she asked "God can do anything, right?" I was floored. It wasn't so much a question fueled by doubt but instead a statement that just had to be said out loud. This child- in pain and suffering horribly was filled with such trust and faith! The more I learned about her life, the more honored and blessed I felt to have met her; she has had a very difficult life and has not given up. I felt so undeserving and unworthy to help her. When we dropped her off, her neighbors and friends thanked me and I blushed; it wasn't me who did anything- it was all God! He deserves thanks- not me! I felt almost ill at being thanked... It is not my praise to take. Once we brought her home, I was able to collect my thought and express them to my husband. I suppose I felt very let down by some of the religious we had encountered that day. No one is perfect- not even priests- I know this. I also know that there aren't a lot of priests to go around and so most priests are very worn out from dealing with the problems of others. This is understandable. But this had been an emergency and it was very hard to get any help for her. While she needed medical care, she would not go to the ER without first speaking with a priest. Priests, I think, are like doctors of the soul and, because of her situation, both her physical and spiritual health depended on being able to speak with a priest. She only needed 5 minutes- 10 at the most. The friar was only there for the Mass which was not set to begin for a few minutes (I should clarify that he wasn't going to say the Mass). I don't know this man; I can't judge him or his motives but I have to wonder if St. Francis would have refused to help. The priest at the parish a few blocks away actually yelled at my husband and refused to help even though my husband told him that someone needed his help! He wasn't saying Mass and so I don't understand why he refused to help this girl. I guess I really felt let down and embarrassed. This girl was a fallen- away Catholic and was getting a good taste of the very worst our Church has to offer... At times yesterday, I was embarrassed to be Catholic because of the un-Christlike behavior towards this poor girl who so desperately needed help! How cruel to turn someone away like that or do absolutely nothing for no apparent reason. I also had to wonder why no one else bothered to see whether or not she was OK during Mass. She was there a good 10 min. before I went to her... I can't just ignore someone crying like that anywhere! Jesus commands us to love each other. We are also commanded to visit the sick (Corporal Works of Mercy) and this girl was obviously sick in some way that warranted some sort of visitation! What have we become as Catholics? As followers of Christ? How can we call ourselves lovers of Christ if we can't love those among us who are also God's children? If we are one body in Christ- why do we allow our arm to suffer without assistance from the other parts? How can we be so cold and callous? We should all be ashamed. My best friend told me that what I did was "so nice." I told her that she would have done the same thing and there was an odd silence. I don't know if she would or would not have but that is not the point. I did what any human being should do for any other human being and- especially- what one child of God should do for another. It is an obligation and a privilege to assist others in need. Helping others is a wonderful way to glorify Him and let His love be felt in the world. It isn't a case of being nice; it is a case of being a Christian and being able to recognize the face of the suffering Jesus in everyone. After all, what we do to others, we do to Him! I am disappointed in my fellow Catholics today. I pray that we all may serve God by serving others and love God by loving others. I pray that people in need will be able to get the help they need from our priests and that priests will be moved to help others in need. I also pray for more priests so that the ones we have aren't so prone to being burned out or desensitized to suffering. I pray for our priests, anyhow, because I think that life must be very hard for them at times. I pray that we- as Catholics- can get it together and behave like proper Christians. It isn't enough to go to Mass well dressed and act holy when we can't act holy in a real kind of way. It isn't enough to say that we are Catholics only to act like heathens. If we continue to act in such a selfish way, we will soon be terribly unworthy of being called followers of Christ. I pray that this never happens. In closing, today is Memorial Day in the US. God bless all of our veterans and people serving in the military! Thank you for your service!

Fear of a Different Sort of Loss

My oldest child was born out of wedlock before I married my husband. While I love this child, I am aware that, in creating her, I sinned. But I chose life (yay!) And, although things have not been easy and I would not suggest purposely going out and getting pregnant before marriage (or intercourse out of wedlock at all, for that matter), I have been blessed. But the story doesn't end there. I got married when my child was 3 and my husband and I have provided a stable, loving family life for her and for all of our kids. We returned to the Church shortly after our second child was born and have been practicing Catholics ever since. Her father has never paid any sort of support and has never taken care of her for more than a few hours at a time. He is still in the picture, but not in a legal sense and not when he has better things to do. Recently, he has wanted to play family with his girlfriend using our daughter. He has asked for visitation (whatever this means) and he wants our daughter to meet this girlfriend. Now, my first thought is that this isn't good for my daughter. She has a stable, loving home and family and it would not be good for her to live in a fractured sort of way- with one family here and another there. I am concerned about how she will feel about this woman and the fact that she will have to spend time with her. I am concerned about how this will effect our family unit as a whole and also us as individuals... she has a brother and sister, after all. I am also concerned about her being exposed to values that are not a part of our family's belief system and there is absolutely no way I will allow her to spend time at a house in which her "father" lives with his girlfriend. No way. You see, I have made many mistakes in my life and now my entire existence is now devoted to teaching my kids to live differently than I did. I don't want them to make the same mistakes and suffer as a result of these mistakes. I also came from a broken and "blended" home and so I know how much fun it is! Really, I know what feelings and issues may come from this and I am terrified! I am terrified of not having my little girl with me like she is now. I am terrified that this will rip our family apart. I am terrified that she will be led astray by the poor example sat by her father and his girlfriend and that any "bad" things she will learn will then be learned by the other kids. I feel like I am in danger of losing her and I am just not ready to lose another child! Sometimes I just want to ask God when enough will be enough... My stomach is in absolute knots! This is what sin does and this is how it affects generations! Sacred hear of Jesus, have mercy on us! Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us! Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us!

Dress Debacle, Sister Situation and Twist of Lemon

So, I have already written about how long it is taking for me to feel "normal". The irony about feeling more normal is that once I feel better, I have a another bad day- or a few... Sometimes these bad days begin with some stressful or painful situation or reminder while sometimes they just appear out of the blue. I have found that adequate rest and a healthy diet significantly make things better but if the bad time is situational, it is just going to happen no matter how much steel cut oats and how many apples, carrots, etc. I eat. This bad spell was brought on by the First Communion nonsense. First off, I want to say that this day should be about the Sacrament itself and not anything else. I am a firm believer that religious events are just that and that the event needs to be the main focus of the day- not the party, cake, etc. Second, this was supposed to be a happy, stress free event that would be a happy time after months of sadness and mourning. The fact that the fabric I ordered for the dress was on backorder (unbeknownst to me) pretty much ensured that some amount of stress would have to be dealt with. I call this the "fabric debacle"... A week and a half before the First Communion, a parcel arrived without the fashion fabric for the dress. Super! Apparently, it was on backorder and no one thought to email me about it. Did I mention that I had ordered the fabric two weeks prior and it was shipped out an entire week after I ordered it? (By the way, I ordered from Martha Pullen- spare yourself some misery and steer clear of the Martha Pullen store) So, this set the stage. Then as you well know, I was trying to be nice while also protecting my own feelings with regards to the "sister situation". I thought that I could invite her to the church and then- because there would be no party afterwards- not really have to deal with her. Respectful of her and of my own feelings... But my mom- in an attempt to be helpful- began planning a party. First it was just a few people- then a cake. Then little sandwiches and soon I was looking at a full- scale party event... At which, of course my sister and her baby (who shares the name of my dead baby) would be in attendance. So, I broke down. Yesterday I couldn't eat and I spent most of the day crying- at times sobbing hysterically because thinking about dealing with my sister brought it all back. Also, the night before, my mother slipped up and called her baby "Barbara" which seemed like an insult to an already fairly terrible injury. Some terrible memories and a horrible sadness came to the surface and I really felt worse than I had in months. Again, I questioned whether or not it would ever get better. Will I ever stop missing her? Although I feel better today, I found myself crying when I was writing about Barbara to a very dear friend of mine (my "Austrian Sister"). Tears were just streaming down my cheek and I missed her so much. My arms felt so empty. I know that only God can heal this wound. As far as the issue with my sister goes, I have had to take am uncharacteristically hard- lined approach to it. The truth is that I have the right to feel the way I do. I also have the responsibility to treat her- and everyone else- with respect and kindness. It is OK not to want to deal with her and to limit my exposure to her. That being said, it would be mean to exclude her from going to Mass and so seeing her at Mass is a cross I will have to carry. I will just have to pray that I do so with grace and strength. Again, I can ask for help with this! I have put my foot down as far as a party goes, though. My best friend's family and my family will get together after Mass in the park where our kids and husbands will go on a bike- ride. My mother can join us, if she wants, but there will be no cake or little sandwiches and no sister. My mother tried to get me to invite my sister to the bike- ride but I had to stand my ground because the best thing I can do for my child is give her happy parents on the happiest day of her life (the day when she will finally commune with Jesus). As far as the dress goes... I will be sewing all day and night until it gets done. But it will get done and, although it may not be a work or art, it will work... I suppose the point of this post is that the bad days can always return. They may never go away. One step forward and ten steps back! This is where the twist of lemon comes in... sourness. This week, I have been praying for my daughter- that she may develop a real understanding and love for the Eucharist and that she may grow into a virtuous Christian young adult and woman and that she may always choose right over wrong and that God will give her the graces needed to grow in beauty, honor and virtue. I am praying for all of the First Communicants all over the world. Please join me!

Mother's Day/ Infertility

Happy Mother's Day! I am not as sad today as I thought I'd be. I thought about going to the cemetery but it isn't something I like to do with the other kids around. I can't allow myself to cry around them and holding it in is so painful! I always tear up, of course, and my husband asks me if I am OK and I can only respond in anger because it is a stupid question. I can't talk around the other kids, anyhow, and only asking me if I am OK makes it worse. I had the hick- ups really bad yesterday and I was reminded of how Barbara always had the hick- ups towards the end of my pregnancy. I have since read that this is a sign of infection. I don't know where I read it because I found it in the early days of AB and things from back then are just a blur. Anyhow, I remembered how she would kick and I would feel so full of life; I could not wait to meet her and I delighted in every hick- up and movement. These things (I believed) were proof- positive that she would soon be mine to meet, hold and care for. Sometimes it seems like I am always kicked while I am down. I am having infertility issues. I never had this problem before and I am now afraid that my postpartum D&C may have caused scar tissue to form. It seems so ironic that the birth of my last baby (who died) should contribute to my not being able to have anymore. Sometimes I want to yell "WHY?" at God. Those who know about my infertility tell me that God has a plan or that I am just old. As I have written before, Barbara's death is the gift that keeps giving! I often get sick of hearing about how God has a plan. His plans for me have been very painful and cruel and I suppose that I am sometimes sick of living according to His plan. Still, I know that I really don't have a choice. I can fight a battle I can never win or I can accept things as they are. I also get sick of hearing about women over 35 and how difficult it is for us to conceive. I bought some books on naturally solving infertility thinking that they would present things in a positive way but instead each books treats 35 like some special, magical number like once a woman is over 35, her eggs all shrivel up and die... In fact, our fertility begins to decline in our middle to late 20's so I don't know why 35 is chosen as the magic number (as it is for Downs Syndrome). My best friend, who also has experienced loss and infertility also tells me that it is just because we are old... It is funny how quickly women forget how it feels to be dealing with infertility issues after their own have been solved! These books tell women that they have to remain positive and try to de- stress their lives (or at least learn to deal with stress more efficiently) and then, at the same time, tell women over 35 that their chances of conceiving and carrying a healthy baby to full- term is significantly lessoned once they hit 35... It is also painful for me to read books written by Catholic women who have tons of kids. There are also many families who attend the traditional latin mass (TLM) who have large families. This makes me feel sad for myself. It is not my choice that I don't have such a large family and yet I feel like a failure as a Catholic women. Having a large family is important in our Faith. To cooperate with God when it comes to having children is a big deal that is really stressed. We are expected to be fruitful but our Church rarely addresses the fact that not all of us can be. This is probably one of the worst religions to which an infertile woman can belong! Moreover, if you haven't gone through the pain and frustration brought on by infertility, it is impossible to understand how it feels. People are often unintentionally insensitive about it. My priest tells me that I should be thankful that I have the ones I have. Which is true- but my sadness regarding my infertility has nothing to do with my other kids and does not lesson the feeling of gratefulness I have when it comes to them. After Barbara died, everyone told us how great it was to have the other three- again- as if having the other three meant that it was less painful to have lost Barbara. When people have no kids and they experience loss or infertility, they are much more worthy of feeling upset. It seems that having other kids, though, excludes me from those who are worthy enough to be allowed to truly feel bad. It seems like people are having babies everywhere; I often avoid going out because I know that doing so puts me at risk for seeing pregnant mother and/ or babies. My poor husband, as sad as he also is, can't understand. As much as men love their children and contribute to their making and upbringing, pregnancy is a woman's thing. Infertility strikes a woman at the foundation of her very existence and whittles away at who she is supposed to be. Infertility has caused an enormous amount of tension in the house. So, on Mother's Day, I really don't want to celebrate being a mother. I want to treat it like any other day. While I am a mother to three live children and one with God and this is really something to be happy about- I am faced with the reality that I may never be made a mother again. I truly feel kicked while I am down!

A TIME TO MOURN

When Barbara died, I thought it was over. I thought that I would be very sad for a while but then I eventually would rebound and be fine. I thought that I would need a few weeks to get back to "normal" and then things would be as they were pre- Barbara. Of course, I knew that I would always miss her but I thought that I wouldn't be sad for very long. I think I originally thought this because the NICU had been such hell and then it was over. She had suffered terribly and I had suffered along with her. It wasn't easy to hold her hand a few times a day while she was poked and prodded and clearly in pain. It wasn't easy sitting there watching the life slip away from her during the last few days of her life. I think that, at first, I felt relief. Relief for her and relief for my husband and myself. The first mistake I made was thinking that I could just shake off the NICU experience and move on. Th reality was that the NICU had been my life and my home for 4 weeks. This doesn't seem like very long, now- especially when I consider the fact that she has been dead for 8 months. But when the NICU is one's entire existence for 4 weeks- 24 hours a day- the four weeks may as well be an eternity. Also, my life had revolved around only Barbara during those weeks. It was all about blood tests and results, daily rounds, consultations and prayers. It was all about doing everything I could to keep my child alive and letting her know that she was loved and that I was there for her- always. She was my sun and I was her Earth. I also got into a spiritual routine; I would go to Mass everyday and say the rosary every morning with Barbara. I read Scripture to her so that- if she died- she would recognize Jesus and would have heard about Him. I know that this is silly because she would have known Him, anyhow, but I suppose it made me feel better. I rarely left the hospital. We slept there. I stayed with her until very early in the am, got a few hours or sleep and then went back to sit with her. I would sometimes take a break for coffee or (rarely) lunch and, after her condition began to improve, my husband and I would go out for dinner. When she was very ill, I barely slept. Our other kids visited us at the hospital. We tried to make it fun for them; they played on the escalator and on the play ground outside. We even had a little birthday party for our son there. The hospital had become home. So, when she died I didn't know what to do with myself. All we did the first week was sleep. We were so exhausted. Then came the funeral. The following Monday my husband had to go back to work and I was alone. I tried to manage with the kids but I couldn't keep it together. I was lost without the routine of the NICU and without my sun to revolve around. As much as I hated the NICU, I was lost without it and I was lost without her. All I did was cry- sometimes hysterically- and ask "why" over and over again. My spiritual routine fell apart as I could not get to Mass during the day anymore. I had to wait until Sunday to go and this was so difficult! I often felt very depressed because I could not get to Mass to see Jesus; He kept me going in the NICU and now I had to be apart from Him. I had a hard time saying the rosary without Barbara because it had become something I did with her. Doing it without her only made me very aware that she was gone. It was so odd being home. I had my own fridge; I could make my own coffee. I could do whatever I wanted (within reason) and yet I was so lost. This newfound freedom was too much; it was a prison. I remember when she was still alive- I was looking out of a hospital window drinking some coffee and wondering if we would still be there when there was snow on the ground. I wondered what Christmas would be like in the NICU. I wondered what Halloween would be like and I even discussed it with a nurse. I had no idea that she would die. The NICU was a long- term thing and getting out of it just wasn't a thought I had entertained. I would have stayed there for months... for years... And in an instant it was over. She was gone and my life- as it had been for four weeks and as I had planned on it being for months to come- was over. It took months to get used to not being in the NICU. It took months to get over the shock. Sometimes I still would think that I was pregnant and then I would have to remind myself that she was gone. There was baby stuff everywhere- clothes lovingly folded- a bassinet... Everything was there for her and she was dead. I bought a new day planner thinking that I would make my lists and get things done like I used to do and then I would get angry with myself when things didn't get done. I didn't feel like cooking or cleaning- all I wanted to do was die. I would get so angry with myself because I just couldn't hack it; I just couldn't go back to how things were. I felt like a failure as a mother and wife and as a person. I remember thinking that I could never be happy again; that nothing good could ever happen again. I prayed that God would spare me the pain of living! I often thought that I belonged with her; my baby. My arms were so empty and I felt so confused. My body and heart were telling me to care for a baby that was dead. This is the worst feeling I have ever had: the instinctual urge to mother an infant that could not be mothered. Then my best friend and my sister had their babies. It took months for things to get back to semi- normal. It is a slow process; so slow that sometimes it feels like I haven't gotten any better. I think it is funny that I thought it would all be over so quickly. I know, now, that it will never be over. The pain will never fully go away and I am allowing myself the right to feel it. Because even in my sorrow, Barbara is there. I know that there are other women out there who have felt like me. I wish I could hug them all and tell them that they will get through it, that they will laugh again and smile again someday. That a nice day will just be nice rather than a nice day that reminds you that you can't enjoy the day without your baby. I have been very lonely; I wish I could hug every mother who is mourning alone. I wish I could tell them that I am praying for them. It takes LOTS of time, I think, for things to get back to close to what they once were. My baby died 8 months ago and I am just now getting back into the swing of things. I now can made to- do lists without fear of disappointing myself by not getting anything done. I now cook every night and we are once again homeschooling like we once were. I am gardening (and making plans to kill the groundhog that is eating/ uprooting my peas) and going on walks. I can laugh now and joke an I can enjoy a sunny day without getting depressed. But, as you know, I still have some very, very bad days and I probably always will. I know, now, that this grief- thing is a permanent thing. I also know that I have a lot of resentful and angry feelings towards people who, I believe, have let me down and contributed to my feeling of isolation and loneliness (see the Moral Dilemma entry). I have to chuckle, now, when I think about how unrealistic I was but then again this is how people wanted me to be. People expected me to get over it... This just isn't how it works, though, and no one should have to feel like a freak who is stuck in mourning on top of everything else that a grieving parent feels. I learned early on that everyone expected me to get over it and on with my life very quickly. Within weeks people were telling me to see a therapist whenever I talked about how hard life was. I remember feeling like a terrible freak! I remember thinking that there was nothing wrong with my head and that these people were all wrong- they had no idea what it feels like to lose a child because if they did, they would not brush off my sorrow as some sort of mental defect. I felt like it was very normal to feel that bad so eventually I stopped taking about her with anyone. The only two people who never advised me to seek professional help were my priest and my best friend who knows what it feels like to lose a child (+Baby Steven+). Only time and God can heal these wounds. God and LOTS of time... Today I will pray for the lonely, grieving parents out there who are having a hard time giving themselves time to feel better.

GIFT

The death of a child is a gift that keeps giving. "Gift" means poison in German... isn't that funny? Even when I am happy, I never forget. And things still seem to spiral out of control at times and the things that are out of control seem to spiral out from that one event. I am still thinking about my moral dilemma. I want the day to be good for my daughter and I don't want to be selfish or mean and purposely exclude anyone. I have come to the conclusion that people are who they are; I just have to accept this. Everyone has limitations and expecting people to behave in ways that are contrary to their own limitations is unfair and egoistic. It is unfair because a person can only do what they are capable of doing. It is egoistic because if I wasn't so wrapped up in myself and in my own feelings, how others treat me would not be so much of an issue. Logically, I can think this but emotionally I am still so confused. I always think about what my life was like before she died- life can be divided up into BB- before Barbara and AB- after Barbara. Nothing is the same. Sometimes the person I used to be is very foreign to me and I have no idea who this person is that I have become. I have never felt such anger and despair and such terrible loneliness. I am so often angry with God. I don't understand why this had to happen or, if she had to die, why did she have to suffer so much before she died and why does life still suck so much now? A part of me is dead. I know that I am a terrible person; I should just carry my crosses and rejoice! I should think less about myself and more about others... Gosh it sucks to be human and so imperfect! On a lighter note, yesterday we went to a lovely Mass with adoration following. This has been the highlight of my week so far. At the beginning of adoration, the sun came out and began shining onto the high alter and onto the monstrance. Everything took on a golden hue and it all seemed so warm. I love adoration! But, oh, how I struggle! Today I will pray for all of the babies in the NICU and for their families; please pray for these little babies and their families; they need it- I KNOW!

A Constant Struggle

Life is a constant struggle. Sometimes I can't believe that I have a dead child; it isn't anything I ever thought would happen- who would? The thought that a baby grew in me, was born to ma and then died is still a very foreign concept at times. It is hard to grasp that someone to whom I gave life is now gone. And people tell me that she is always with me but I can't feel it. No matter how much better I feel, the pain is always there. Sometimes it feels as if it is now so deep inside of me that it has taken root. It always bubbles beneath the surface. Then I feel angry. I feel angry with everyone. I feel angry with anyone who can't understand me and who does not know what it is like to lose a child. I can't think of anything worse. I wish I could just feel completely happy; I wish my brain and heart could would get a break. Sometimes, nothing seems worth it anymore. Jesus tells us to take up our cross and follow Him and I am trying to do this but it is hard. I miss my baby. My arms feel so empty. Whenever I do something, I think that she should be with me. I think about what she would be doing- how big she would be. She will always be there, I suppose, in that sense. I wish that no one had to go through this. I know that, along with the pain, comes the terrible loneliness and isolation. Today, I will pray for all the parents of dead babies... I ask you to do the same.

Artsey?

Well, maybe the point of the formatting issue is to make my posts look more artsey.... ? Am I artsey now?

Moral Dilemma

I have to apologize for any spacing/ format issues... I can't figure out how and if I can make things look better and easier to read. Believe it or not, I did learn basic grammar in grade school and so I am aware that there are format issues... I apologize and will be working on trying to make things better! I also want to thank anyone who stops by and reads my blog. I hope that my writings are helpful to people and are not too dull! May God bless everyone who views this blog! So, now I am facing a moral dilemma. The thing is that I most often end up doing the right thing even though I struggle terribly before finally giving in to doing what is right despite how it might affect me. Whenever I struggle with making a moral decision my husband just laughs at me because he knows that i will usually do the right thing, anyhow. I also often end up being walked all over because I have a hard time setting healthy boundaries and thinking about my own comfort after that of others. But this is different. After losing Barbara everything is different. Everything I used to know is now unknown and many relationships have been called into question. When my baby was in the NICU, my sister never visited or called. While at the cemetery, she loudly bragged about how she had just found out that she would be having a baby girl while my baby girl was in a casket waiting to be put in the ground. She also did not bother to call me at all until my mother asked her to three months after losing Barbara. When her baby was born, she named her the same name that is Barbara's middle name without bothering to even mention it to me first. Now, it isn't like she had her baby years after Barbara's death; her baby was born only 3 1/3 months after Barbara died. She still has yet to call me of her own volition. Jesus commands us to forgive- that is very plain and simple. If we don't forgive then we will not be forgiven... also, anything that we hold on to only makes us sick (ie. emotional baggage) because it festers and, eventually something small can turn into an all- out hate- fest. So, there are moral and practical reasons for forgiveness. Forgiving is the easy part for me; forgetting is hard. Normally, I would just let time heal (and Jesus) this wound but, because our oldest child is going to be making her First Holy Communion soon, so time is not in abundance... My first impulse is to not invite her or anyone from my family who never bothered to call after Barbara died (99% of my family!). I want to just say "screw you!" to them all. This is very un- Christlike and I know this. I feel like even allowing myself to entertain the idea of doing this is terrible! Truly it is, in fact, a sin. One can sin through thought. The thing is that I have been very hurt by my sister and, although I can forgive her, there is no excuse for her behavior over the past 8 months. She has behaved in a selfish and very insensitive way and it will take a while before I can look at her without feeling lots of negative emotions. Even though I have forgiven her, the feelings won't go away. If I invite her, I will have to see her (obviously) and will feel things that will cause me pain. I will also have to look at her baby- who shares the name of my dead one and would now be just a few months older than Barbara and be reminded... I want to enjoy my daughter's First Communion. I don't want to feel upset because this is a happy day and it would not be fair to her if I were upset. I also know that I will be stressed out before the event if I know that my sister will be there. On the other hand, my daughter deserves to have her aunt there and the issues between adults should never be allowed to affect children. My husband does not want her there AT ALL. So, this is a dilemma. I wonder if anyone out there can relate to what I am going through or can offer some good advice? Maybe I just need to hear someone tell me to stop being so selfish and do what Jesus would do?

The "Science" of Medicine and "Medical Ethics"- a Lethal Combination

I know now that evil truly exists because I saw it, felt it and fought with it for four weeks while Barbara was in the local NICU. The thing is that the evil- doers felt truly justified and that justification rested upon the "fact" that medicine is a science and that their actions were "ethical". The fact that doctors can claim that their practices are both "scientific" and "ethical" makes us all very unsafe... Enter the world of modern medicine where science and medical ethics combine to form one terrible, Godless monster. Modern Medical Ethics is a belief system in which apparently human beings are not necessarily human beings unless certain criteria are met and that the right to live and be treated medically is solely contingent upon whether or not someone is a human being (according to the medical ethics people). This philosophy is not based on any sort of moral code or standard and yet was treated as natural law in the NICU. Any why not- operating in accordance with this philosophy means saving time, money and energy and- at the same time- allowing for the earning of more money for the hospital and, after all, isn't that the bottom line? At first, my baby was not a human being because she did not meet their criteria; she was in a coma and did not appear to be coming out of it. She was very, very sick and did not seem to be getting better. She was never diagnosed as "brain dead" and there was no indication that she was; no examination or test was ever done that would have indicated that she was brain dead and yet the NICU staff behaved as though she was. Because this was how they "felt" based on "science" (ie. previous cases, experience, etc), they went with it and advised us to pull the plug very early on. Again, this was not based on any science but rather on hunch... so much for the practice of medicine being based on science! Now, even though we filled out paperwork indicating that we were Roman Catholic and the hospital claimed to be sensitive to the religious beliefs of its patients and their families, we were asked- several times- whether or not we wanted to pull the plug. After the first time, we replied that we had certain religious beliefs to which we must adhere and that we would be speaking with our priest the next day. This is what we said but what the doctor heard (and charted- I know because I saw it) was that we were "considering taking [Barbara] off of support". My mother- in- law also heard NICU staff discussing this while she was spending time with Barbara... Apparently, not only were the doctors ignorant and insensitive with regards to religious beliefs but were also either hard of hearing or living in their own other reality (or both?). So, we refused- over and over again- to pull the plug. While we fully understood that our child did not obviously meet the criteria that would have enabled her to be seen as a legitimate human being (in NICU terms), we also understood that our child was alive and that no one had ben able to prove that she would never wake up or that she was brain dead. To us- her parents- she was always a person and, as such, deserving of love, respect, attention and medical care and therefore pulling the plug would have been murder. I'd like to add that the doctors did not do anything other than administer antibiotics until a friend of ours, who is a Physician's Assistant visited her and asked to see her records. He- along with us- were not allowed to see her records even though I argued that- as Barbara's parents- her records (legally) were our property. Before this, though, they had done nothing because they assumed that she was not worth saving; after all, they had robbed her of her personhood very early on. When she started to wake up, move around, hear things, move her eyes, etc., the NICU people were stunned. They were wrong. Then it became a "quality of life" issue. She would have a low quality of life and thus we ought to still consider pulling the plug. Again, there was no basis for this assumption and the only thing they had to go on was the opinion of the same neurologist who had misdiagnosed our oldest child 8 years prior (more at the end of this entry). His opinion was based solely on "pupil response". Her pupils did not appear responsive and apparently this is now what determined whether or not she was a human being worthy of living. So, the criteria, apparently, is not static... it can change depending on one's will and inclination. Very handy, indeed! Being that the criteria are obviously not static indicates inconsistency; inconsistency indicates faulty logic. A system in which faulty logic is acceptable and implemented can only ever be false and thus ought not to be trusted. Now, the neurologist relied on the observations of several different nurses in order to decide whether or not she was a person. Again, solid science, right? Well, again, this is all subjective. Some nurses would see one thing while others would not. It seemed like the nurses that thought of her as a human being (God bless and keep them well!) were able to see things like her eyes moving, her yawning, coughing, responding to touch, sound, etc. while those that did not think of her as a person never saw anything but vegetation. One nurse in particular seemed angry that the nurse before her had charted pupil response and set out to actually prove her wrong to us! So, again- very subjective and thus not very scientific! The thing is that no human being can rightfully judge what quality of life another human being has or will have and the truth is that all human beings are created by God, for God in order to fulfill some purpose and thus all lives of any "quality" are useful and important to God. And, even atheists have to admit that the term "quality of life" is subjective thus pulling the plug based on a subjective opinion is murder. Still, they made it sound so compassionate... like they were trying to do her a favor. A "minister" even approached me about pulling the plug (along with a social worker who wanted to know who was homeschooling my kids and wanted to speak with them alone- ie. without me). But the truth is that it had nothing to do with quality of life- instead it was all about whether or not she would become a productive member of society (because that is what it is really all about, isn't it?) and also the fact that she- who was not really a person- was taking up valuable NICU space that ought to have been occupied by a baby who was deserving of personhood and thus worthy of living. It was no secret that the NICU was so jam- packed that babies had to be turned away and that nurses felt overwhelmed and overworked. Because they would not grant her personhood, we witnessed many NICU people treating her like an object; never speaking with her, never repositioning her, not taking her temperature even after being begged to do so (and then it had gone up to 103* due to their negligence in putting her unattended under a warming lamp). When we complained, we were asked what we wanted them to do about it... we were also told that, if the nurse about whom we complained was chastised, life could get very uncomfortable for us... (a threat, perhaps?) The NICU staff was hopeless; and hopelessness means devoid of hope. Hope is a virtue; it is a Godly thing. Absence of hope is not of God but of something else entirely... We had nurses crushing hope constantly. All we could say was that we trusted God and it was all up to Him- not us and not the doctors. They would tell us what the "reality" was- as of they had ever known! And then ask us what we would do is the outcome was bad. We always had to say- over and over again- that we trusted in God and that He would do what was best. We saw one in particular relish the fact that she did not see something that the nurse before her had seen! The better she got, the more disgusting it became to deal with the neurologist. He just couldn't deal with the fact that he could have bee wrong... he set out to prove himself right and grasped at straws in order to continue to condemn her to non- personhood status. Eventually, he swore that there was something wrong with her pituitary gland even though he had no evidence of any sort to back this up. Even after a pediatric nephrologist looked at actual data from blood work three times and affirmed and reaffirmed that she did not have this issue, the neurologist pushed it and they "cleansed" her of all sodium which turned out to be very stressful on her recovering body and, I believe, ultimately contributed to her death. So, I guess- in the end- they were successful in murdering her... The day after the day she appeared to be coming out of it, she started to go downhill again. My husband and I swore that she had an infection but the doctor refused to listen to us. The next day, we said that she had an infection and, again, no one would listen to us. We had to sit around and watch- totally helpless- as she faded away from us. The night before she died, we begged the nurse to get the doctor three times and he refused to come every time. Her condition rapidly deteriorated that night and, by morning, we knew she was dying. We knew this before the doctors and nurses... Again, we asked to see the doctor and were told that he would only see us while on rounds. We waited and waited. When he never came, we asked where he was and were told that he decided to take a break. He did not materialize until I asked the nurse whether or not it had been documented how many times we had asked to see the doctor... The doctor arrived and, not only did he behave in a very rude and condescending way, but it was clear that he could have cared less about our child who, to him, was not a child at all but a thing- an object... not worth his time, attention and consideration. The last day, when the neurologist showed up to check her pupil response, we finally told him off... we knew very well that it was his opinion that had kept her from getting adequate medical care because, ultimately, it was he who had decided that she was not a human being... Three hours before she died, a very kind doctor told us that she was not going to make it- that she had an infection. We were blessed that he was on call and that the nurse in attendance was one of the few who had been kind and respectful towards us and Barbara. The doctor handed her to me right away because, according to their science, she was going to die immediately. She hung on for almost three hours- in my arms. She died in my arms as I prayed over her. I have to wonder how many babies have died as a result of medical science and ethics... I know that, had we chosen to pull the plug on our child, we would have been pulling the plug on someone who was, in fact, a creation of God and a human bwing. We never would have gotten to read to her and watch her respond to the sound of our voices. We would not have been able to feel her squeeze our hands. We would not have been able to get to know her- which was a real privilege and blessing. We would not have gotten spend four weeks with her... I would not have seen her turn her eyes towards the sound of my voice... Essentially, had we followed the advice of the doctors, we would have been killing a baby- a human being with potential... I also have to wonder what kind of a society we are that we can allow things like this to happen. Babies are the most vulnerable and weak among us and yet are treated with such callous disregard and disrespect. I do not understand how doctors- who are supposed to preserve life- can be so eager to take it based on nothing more than hunch and a flawed, subjective code of ethics. The truth is that these doctors commit murders under the guise of being sympathetic and caring and maybe some of them even believe that they are truly sensitive and caring... (like doctors who commit murder by abortion perhaps?). I wonder what the future of medical "science" will hold if it is already so broken, Godless and corrupt now. When a system that calls itself scientific but, in fact, is not- and yet still exists as if it is- the very nature and definition of all science(s) must be called into question. The truth is, that medicine is not a science... and it is an insult to any true science in which subjectivity, real logic and scientific method are employed. In true science, there are very few laws but many hypotheses that are given some credence but yet are never treated as absolute truth. In true science, anything is possible. In medicine, possibility hinges upon how creative doctors are and what their minds can grasp. Even medical "studies" are suspect when one figures out who funds them and carries them out... The practice of medicine is hit- and- miss; get rid of or alleviate the symptom rather than figure out and deal with the actual cause. True science asks "why" until an answer can be found and then it still continues to question its results. Medical Ethics is a huge field and will only continue to grow as every facet of the medical industry continue to become more and more greedy and more and more gluttonous. The fact that someone "qualified" to decide what is right and wrong is behind medical policies and standards assures the public that their best interest is always in mind when, in fact, nothing could be further from the truth. We must never forget that the Nazis also had intelligent and educated people (and doctors!) who were able to come up with seemingly ethical reasons to kill mentally ill, handicapped and deformed human beings when, in fact, their reasoning was terribly flawed and the public lied to. With the Health Care mandate, things like who is a person and thus has the right to live and/ or be treated will become a big issue. I also believe that degrees of personhood will be firmly established and whether or not a person receives approporiate and life- saving medical care will largely depend on personhood status. This will all be "ethical" and thus justifiable. This is what happen when we allow a system devoid of God and ignorant of natural law to run things and decide things for us... Please believe me that evil exists and it often exists where we least expect it to exist. Be wise and careful and always trust in God. As to our oldest child, my OB almost killed both of us during labor. When she was born not breathing, it took the OR staff 7 minutes to decide whether or not they wanted to rescusitate her and, after deciding that she was worth it, they collapsed a lung. At three days old, she had a seizure that lasted over and hour from residual anesthesia in her system (both of us had been ODd in the OR) and we were told by the neurologist that she would be "mild- moderately retarded" and that she would never do things "like play soccer." In fact, she is now 8 years old and is just fine- "gifted" in fact... I'd like to end this by stating that there were some very kind people in the NICU and these people made those four weeks tolerable and, at times, even pleasant. I do not know how I would have gotten through those weeks without them. I will be forever grateful for their kindness and I will never forget the love and respect that they felt for Barbara. I know that she was loved, there. I will always pray fr these very special people and I hope they know that Barbara will always be with them and watching over them! God bless you and God bless all the NICU babies and their parents!