Category Archives: Religion and Sprituality

Can’t We All Just Play Nice?


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Daily Prompt:  P.C.

by michelle w. on August 11,2013

Is political correctness a useful concept, or does it stifle honest discussion? 

My opinion on this is that political correctness DEFINITELY stifles honest discussion.  Way too hot topics are racism, gay rights and abortion.  NOBODY will touch these topics with a ten foot pole; but I really do wish that people would have honest discussions about them.

If we could all put aside our differences and openly admit that we do not know everything and that we each have our tendencies to say or do things that will offend others.  If we can all check our baggage at the door, that would be great, too. Nobody is perfect and hell, yes, we were all raised in different environments, leaning toward one or another belief.  We all have things, pleasant and unpleasant to others, ingrained in us from childhood and though some of us might choose to act differently, what is ingrained in us will never completely leave.  What we CAN do is choose to act different, be more accepting of other people and their right to live how they choose.  That’s not to say that we give up expressing our core beliefs, but recognize that although we are a part of this world; but we cannot control everyone in it to our own way of thinking.

Most importantly, I think, is that we all must be prepared to enter into these conversations open-minded and acknowledge that it might get unpleasant.  We must not be afraid of that but I realize that will be hard to really trust people, I mean really trust that their motives are pure. Also, we must be prepared to deal with ignorance in a less than snarky manner.  We must LISTEN. We must be prepared to face up to our wrongs… and I mean EVERYONE.  This is crucial.  There needs to be a give and take.  There needs to be respect.  I read a book this year called, “The Faith Club.”  This was such a great book about three women, one Jewish, on Muslim and one Catholic.  They each had a burning desire to learn and understand each other, the traditions and well, I think they wanted to understand what made the others tick.  They were wanted to learn so that they could teach their children.  What happened? In a nutshell, it was a rocky road, but they all persevered through their sometimes obvious and sometimes subtle differences and became friends.

Are we all so different that we don’t trust ourselves to tread these waters?  The tension, the hate, the distrust must stop. These are the choices we make.  We have the power to break the mold, but we’ve got to want to do it.  People fit so well into the victim mold and find it more comfortable than they should.  I say that because once in there, you just never want to leave. I’m sorry, but do we really want to be victims forever?  It’s hard to leave the comfort zone, but it CAN be done.

United We Stand,
Divided We Fall
🙂

Water Gives Life


Today I attended the 2012 Catechist Convocation at the Paramus Catholic Regional High School in New Jersey. Whew, that was a mouthful!  Usually, I’m alone for most of the day during these things and my schedule today left me free from any workshops from after the opening ceremony, ending at 9:30am, to my scheduled lunch then my first workshop starting at 12:45pm.  Basically, I was left to my own devices most of the morning.  I spent some time browsing the “exhibits”,  but I shall call them vendors.  I pretty much spent almost all the money I had on a book about my favorite author entitled, “Genius Born of Anguish~ The Life and Legacy of Henri Nouwen” and a car bumper sticker that reads:  Abortion stops a beating heart.  Yeah, the book took up 98% of the money I brought.  Normally, I would’ve gotten something for the current RCIA class but there is no class currently in the works.  Thanks to Cyndi for teaching me the proper “etiquette” for these things.  The first time I attended, she got me a booklet and cards for our then class.  Well, after that purchase I headed outside and got halfway around the building, and found a nice gazebo to sit a spell and start this book.  The weather was really nice and stayed there a while until the groundsmen came around with their leave blowers and drenched me full of diesel fuel or whatever they throw in those things…. yuk!

I also attended two workshops:

  • Be An Evangelizing Catechist
  • One Body in Christ:  Sacrament Preparation & Participation in Liturgy for Individuals with Autism

That’s one bitch’in title and I had to write that whole thing when I took the survey with my opinions on the classes.  The first one really focused on the CCD kids.  Some really great ideas for teaching kids and inviting the parents to get involved.  I really enjoyed that class for the ideas, but I spent the whole time getting up and down to get my handouts, which were one after the other the whole hour fifteen minutes.  The up side is that I have the actual handouts to give to the school, and I’m going to make sure I do some of this stuff with Gabe at home.  I think I’ll work on a separate post for that…. Heck, maybe while this Frankenstorm comes through.

The second workshop focused on providing an effective education for, as it says, Individuals with Autism.  This is near and dear to my heart and I took this workshop with Gabe in mind, hoping I could bring some of this home.  My second hope is to try and get the church to develop a program for the autistic student, both children and adults.  Not sure how it will go over, but this is SO important and would go a long way with families who are not yet advocating for their autistic child for whatever reason.  While I didn’t really hear anything new about autism in this class, I found it helpful, though I do wish the speaker was more prepared.  She spent most of the time fiddling with her electronics and getting them to work.  We did not go over all the material she had for the class and that was a downer.  It was a major distraction, all the while I was thinking about the previous instructor telling us we should be well prepared with our lesson before the children walked into the class….  priceless!

Well, getting to the inspiration of my post.  I’m sitting in the cafeteria eating my lunch at 11:15am and I realize that I don’t have any money to buy more water.  The lunch people were very specific as to what we could take:  ONE sandwich, ONE packet mustard or ONE packet mayonnaise, ONE drink, ONE bag of two Oreo cookies and ONE half-bag of chips.  I’ve been guzzling water lately like an elephant and all I had right there was a 16.9 oz. bottle of Snapple Spring Water which was to last me the entire rest of the day.  Snort…. I’m sitting there knowing that will never happen.  So I sat there, counting the minutes till I could get home for a nice frigid cold glass of water …. (glugg… glugg…) I’m thinking that the fountain water was not too bad of a tasting water.  I sat there knitting (yes, I brought my knitting and knit through the whole opening ceremony and keynote speech, though I wasn’t actually there for the speech as I was stifling hot and couldn’t wait to get out of the auditorium.  Let me just say that God most certainly works in His own way and in His own time.  Whenever or however, He knows what you need and exactly when you need it.  Just before I got myself ready to leave the cafeteria, my friend from our parish came out of nowhere and offered me her 16.9 oz. of cold water, unequivocally stating she was not going to drink it.  I accepted her offer with such gratitude that even that completely overwhelmed me.  It was all I could do not to tear up, there.  She really had no clue of my dilemma, yet she handed it over just when I was going through my options.  Even after I finished her bottle, I refilled it with water from the bathroom because that water was colder than the water in the drinking fountain.  It had a distinctly chlorine taste but I told myself that it was sanitized… ugh.  That bottle, though, kept my tongue from drying onto the roof of my mouth and my lips moist and separated during my two workshops.  Oh well, not a life and death situation, but God certainly has looked out for me in many ways and many, many times.


(I preface this post with a note that this post was already published and linked to “a diary of a mom”, prematurely, through the quickie post feature at WordPress and still trying to get used to it.  This complete post is really an update. My apologies for any inconvenience.)

This is Autism Awareness Month and my boy is autistic.

I don’t say that to draw attention to my son being autistic. I write that to draw attention to Autism.

Lately, I’ve been seeing embryos of posts for myself that start with comments I make on other blogs.  Finally, I am writing one here that I’ve written for Jess at A diary of a mom, which I highly recommend reading, BTW.  Her post today is entitled, “Passed Right By – and Never Knew”, thoughts that we all must be thinking.

Long before autism, I believed that we are meant to turn our negative experiences into positives by sharing them to help others.  There is such a liberation, a burst of freedom when this clicks within our consciousness.  Just think about it.  For eons people have been asking themselves, “Why?”  Why does God let this happen to me.  I believe that I’ve found the answer.

“…sharing them to help others.”  What I left out is “sharing them to help others who share the same suffering.”  While everyone suffers uniquely in intensity and within our own circumstances, we so deeply share the hurt of our suffering.  I am reminded of this just this morning.  Our son has been very upset lately surrounding “school”.  At first, I thought it was the typical adjustment from spending a week off from school without the structure provided at school.  I could not get out of him why he was so upset or what had happened to cause it.  This morning he told me that “the kids don’t let me play…”  This was the only phrase that I could understand, yet it burned me to the core.  If you know any of my history, you know that I spent 1st grade through 8th grade without friends, among people who actively pushed me away.  This morning, my hurt was Gabe’s hurt… and visa versa.  I took him in my arms and generously administered copious skin on skin back rubs.  I told him that not everyone is going to be our friend.  I told him that he does have other, new friends at the social skills group he just got into.  I told him that Zach is his friend.  I couldn’t tell, but I hope that was a consolation to him.

Just found an article I wrote about the “Blessings of Pain,” hoping to elaborate more about what our personal pain can be elevated to.

My quoted comment above states that I discovered this little bit of wisdom “long before autism” and that is correct.  For my whole life, I was wondered why God would isolate me, it seemed, so deliberately.  I wondered why none of my teachers or school principal did anything to help or stop what was going at school, a catholic school, btw.  Just this week I confided this bit of my history to a counselor at Gabe’s school and she had an answer that made sense and I had never even tried to rationalize an answer for myself.  She said that the reason they didn’t do anything was because they were thinking that this experience would make me strong.  Well, I don’t doubt that, but it had also screwed me up emotionally and socially for most of my life and I still carry the baggage that can be seen at times, more than I would like.  It’s dirty baggage.  It’s smelly baggage.  It’s damaged baggage.  My old school is closing and I cannot say that I am sorry to see that happening.  Thirty years later, my old classmates want to have some kind of party to commemorate the school.  Since on facebook, they had gotten dinners and fundraisers started to save the school even before this.  Needless to say, I had no desire to participate in any of this.  My memories are damaged.  Distorted.

Counselor Lady told me something that I knew already.  She said that God would not have let Gabriel into our lives if we could not deal, if we could not handle a child as special as him.  Yes, I knew this.  I didn’t know it from the first day, but I learned it.  After continually, if even with humor, complaining about how my life was over because I had a kid in my mid forties, I learned that I would’ve made a horrible mother if I had a kid when I was biologically supposed to, in my twenties.  I know more and accept more about myself now than I did before and that is so damn important… to be as comfortable as you can be in your own skin… BEFORE having kids, and this applies to ANYONE, any mother, any parent out there.  Young parents teach their kids what they were taught from their own parents because that is all they know, quite frankly, and I had a mom who was a yeller, screamer and a hitter (and I’ll not say with what).  An older parent can teach more than that.  We can teach what we’ve learned from our own lives, from our own personal perspective and less from the strict perspective of our parents.  I am SO aware that I am more like my mom than I care to be.  With this knowledge, I am super sensitive about checking myself before I get to the “hitting” point.  I’ll not lie and say that I was always successful, but I can say that those episodes were stopped very quickly and I have been successful for over a year now.  Even at his young age, I made it a point to apologize and ask for forgiveness.

Somewhere in my thirties I came to the realization, s-l-o-w-l-y, that all my hurtful experiences could be made clean by using them to help other people going through the same pain that I went through.  God made me a talker and even though I spent the first part of my life largely in silence, when I started talking you’d be hardpressed to try and get me to stop.  It’s well known that if someone had an issue and needed emotional support, what is appreciated and helps the most is if someone could talk to that person who had experienced the same problem.  Other people try to help and say the same kind, yet superficial and irrelevant words; whereas others who have that specific empathy, offer so much more than that.  They offer their own experience, they offer their own pain up in an effort to heal the hurt of another.  Grace such as this not only can help that person, but the person who offers it.  We are indeed healed a little bit more by sharing the most darkest parts of ourselves.  When we can realize the poetic harmony this plays in our lives, we will never question again the “why’s” of a tragedy.  We will never doubt or blame our God (whatever the name) for making us suffer.  We can immerse ourselves, bath ourselves in the pain and emerge on the other side with something in our pockets for an emergency.  With such an arsenal, we now can find purpose in any part of our lives.  We can be the wounded healers (I did not coin that phrase.  It’s the name of a book, “The Wounded Healer”, written by Henri J.M. Nouwen, one of my very favorite writers, may God bless his soul.  He also said, “By giving words to these intimate experiences I can make my life available to others.”

We are put on this earth to interact with others.  There is no doubt about that.  Let’s love one another.  Let’s help one another.  Let there not be hate or violence against others.

Hey, just adding in here that I’d love to hear your thoughts, so please comment with any and all of them.  I welcome any and all comments… with spam, disrespect and filth being the exceptions.  Thanks!

Define Gratitude


grat·i·tude   [grat-i-tood, -tyood] noun the quality or feeling of being grateful or thankful: He expressed his gratitude to everyone on the staff.

Today I’ve been feeling that I need to write about being grateful for my friends. I’m still going to do that, but I wanted to do this preliminary post about gratitude, in general.  I just hope I can do the subject justice.

It wasn’t until I consciously strove to feel grateful, did I start to really enjoy life. Not only that, but I do believe that it’s a critical ingredient to a happy and respectful marriage; and this, my friends is from where I speak.  Through my marriage, my husband, I can see the world not as the old, cynical me; but as a refreshed me.  I really credit my DDH (Dear Dear Husband) with the bulk of renewing my life, or at the very least he be the catalyst for it.  He nurtures that, and you’d better believe, in his own subtle (or not so subtle) way, he calls me out on the carpet when I stray…. but not before I make a total jerk of myself… aaaah- He loves me~!

Not only is gratitude key for a good marriage.  It’s critical to any relationship, and the other major one is my relationship with God.  If I’m not grateful for everything that God has given me, then I really do have nothing.  I’ve made it a rule that I must always be grateful for everything I do have in my life and forget what doesn’t happen to be here for me.  I can’t waste my time going to places I can’t reach… yet.  Concentrating on what I do have means that I’m not thinking about the negative, whatever that may be.  What I’m doing now with these gratitude posts is refreshing my memory, reminding myself that there is so much in my life to be happy about and to remember to thank my Creator.

For me being grateful means that in taking the time to think about the positives, about the really good people in my life, presents more opportunities to project a positive spirit out to others.  More opportunities to tell the people in my life how much I love them and how much I appreciate their presence in my life.  Another thing is that up until now, I could not tell people how I felt about them.  I was embarrassed or I thought it was silly.  I thought it wasn’t important.  Now I know that is a lie.  It IS very important to those around me to know, more importantly TO BE TOLD how much they mean to me.  I need to take the time to tell my friends I love them.  That they are important to me.  Thank them for being in my life.  I won’t miss those opportunities again.  Too many times we let the moment pass, then regret it.

Another concept I came away from Oprah’s Lifeclass is when she said, “Your presence is enough.”  If I remember correctly this was part of a discussion about “what should I do when I walk into a room” or “what do I say?”  Something like that, and this sentence, “Your presence is enough” just jumped out at me.  Yeah, I really get that and I want to close my eyes: OOHHMMMM.

Gratitude is the fertile soil for Love.  See what those OHM’s can do?

edited to add:  Just found this quote I was saving about Joy:

“When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find 
it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. 
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see 
that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”

~Kahlil Gibran

 

Think About Me.


Think about me when your arms are around my brother.
I could have been there to teach him about the world.

Think about me when you see children in the park.
I could have been there walking beside you.

Think about me when you want a hug.
My hugs are unending and filled with love.

Think about me when you’re in doubt.
My eyes trust you unquestioningly.

Think about me when you marry.
Think about me if you don’t.

Think about me when you love.
I love you unconditionally.

I am your greatest student.
I am your greatest teacher.

Think about me
Think about me.
Just think.

~Debra Sedita-Kosiarski

copyright April 12, 2010

I was inspired thinking about all the what-could-have-beens.   I was also inspired by my son, Little Drake who is five years old this year.  When I think about what my life could have been without him and what it’s been since he’s been in our lives.  I am just sitting here bawling my eyes out.  So much I could have missed had God not deemed us worthy to care for a life.  Motherhood is an experience that I am so grateful for and I simply was not an individual who was mother material…. yet here I am.

Babies are a gift from God, plain and simple.  He graces us with these little bundles of unconditional love.  Think about it.  Children are the very embodiment of God’s love for us.  He sends us a very real, a very touchable manifestation of His love… we can touch it, people!  How blessed it that when so many of our brethren need physical evidence like Thomas the apostle to believe.  What more can we ask for, and so many of us are destroying this innocent gift from God by aborting their pregnancies.   It’s our responsibility to be grateful and to protect and nurture our children.  I don’t care if it’s what some would call instinct or some biological function.  I don’t care…. it’s there, I can see it and I accept it willingly.  A rose is still a rose by whatever name.  Yes, I was nervous and yes, we are not the richest couple in the world and we never will be.  Life is much richer for us because of this child.

Thank you, God!

Lambs To The Slaughter


I still feel that I must write more about my post from yesterday regarding what will be happening in this country as early as May 2008. At that time, we will be required to have a “National ID” implanted into our drivers license. You will be in possession of a micro chip capable of locating you, wherever you are. It’s like a GPS. If that is not bad enough, micro chips of this sort have already been implanted into consumer products. The stated reason is for marketing so that companies can track what and how we use their products for, and where we take them. Doesn’t that scare you? I mean, it’s not their business. Okay, so you might be thinking that it would be a good way to track terrorists, or so it’s implied on the video, “America Freedom to Fascism”; but it’s a little too “Big Brother” for me. What’s it going to take for people to wake up and smell the coffee? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, “People are like sheep”. We allow ourselves to be herded here and there, then they lock us up in a corral…. and we go willingly like a lamb to slaughter. Does anyone know what that means? It means that lambs to not have the wit enough to know they are going to be killed, so they follow along without a care in the world. Next thing, their throat is slit and even at that last second, they had not a clue. That, people, is us. As long as we look good sitting in that new car that the bank loaned us, sitting pretty, we are oblivious to everything happening around us. We actually believe that we own that car…. then why do we make car payments? People in this country used to actually own their businesses, property, houses, cars. Now we are a nation of debt. The people who make the money have the power to control the people.

The federal reserve bank, a private corp. (I will not even give them the courtesy of capital letters), is in possession of all our gold that was in Ft. Knox. They print our money from out of thin air. There-is-no-value to our money. Paper money was originally intended to represent this country’s gold stored in Ft. Knox, so only so much could be printed. People could actually go to a bank and exchange paper money to get actual gold back. They printed so much paper money that we do not have gold enough to substantiate the represented value. When our president needs a couple of billion to fund the military, he calls up the federal reserve and >poof<, it gets printed. Our money is worth almost nothing, not even the paper it’s printed on, as evidenced by the next to nothing buying power it has. Look at how much a dollar’s value was worth back in 1913 when this all started. Think to yourself what can I actually buy with a dollar. Not half as much as you could get in 1913. Explains a lot and it’s pretty scary.

The video also explains how we became a nation of debt and how and why that condition was orchestrated by the bankers in power. Again, explains a lot…. and how they are systematically eliminating the middle class from the structure of society. Even I can see how the middle class has been chipped away. People are either rich or poor, and whatever middle class there is, it’s definitely more poor than just “in the middle”. I look at myself. I am not homeless, DH puts food on the table, we have clothes on our backs, yet we are not comfortable to say the least. No, I should amend that. I want to make it clear that I am not complaining about my situation. What I am attempting to do is compare the middle class, or what I assume the middle class is. We are comfortable because we have what we need, the necessities of life; but I know for a fact that some people would think we are poor… or that we could live better. We do not have a lot of furniture… we don’t even have a proper couch. We have DSL, but we do not have a TV. When I was growing up, middle class, a tv was taken for granted. I still consider myself “middle class”, yet I am in the position of having to make a choice between the two. What is wrong with this picture? Or maybe we are really poor and don’t know it. We live like this because we refuse to put everything on credit. We pay cash.

Do you see why I am so worried about getting a chip implanted into my body? I’ll bring up terrorism again. Maybe they want to be able to track terrorists and they can’t do that with the physical money system (yet). But, if they are so concerned about Homeland security, then why are they so lax with our borders? I know that if I was the president, after 911 the first thing I would have done was to close the borders, all around. Let nobody in who didn’t live here already. Yet, we still see people coming in through our airports and we still see constant problems going on with the borders…. especially down by Mexico. Is there any reasoning? If there is, I don’t understand it. We could have had the borders closed, if even temporarily. I’m not saying for forever, here. Illegal immigrants are still coming in by the truckloads, and any one of them could be a terrorist in disguise.

So, the citizens of this country will tagged, monitored and controlled, while the bad guys will not… because even the immigrants who come here to make an honest living will eventually be tagged, too, into slavery… well that is what it amounts to. Slaves were branded, corralled, worked without pay, could not own property, did not have a say in their destinies. Their lives were not their own. Is this beginning to sound familiar? Is this hitting home even a little bit? We are all at the disposal to the whims of our masters. If we really want our freedom back, we had better wake up and do something about it while we still have a chance.

A thank you to Justin for giving me some great tags for this post.

Who’s More Deeply Disturbed?


My impulse is to make these words as big as this screen. Today I am deeply, deeply disturbed. I want to discuss the ban on late term partial-birth abortion that was just upheld by the Supreme Court. I’m not disturbed about that. I applaud that ruling. I never thought that I would be happy that Samuel Alito got confirmed, but today I was. Sometimes I am like a being skirting through life and do not absorb the details, but I will try my best to get the facts as I heard them. Apparently, this ban is more complicated than one might expect. There is a dispute over the wording on the ban, learned doctors say it’s vague and they’re unsure about what constitutes *”partial birth abortion”*. Quick solution: STOP DOING THE PROCEDURE. Confusion lifted. My own opinion is very simple, very blunt. If you are a woman who does not intend on giving birth to a baby, do not have sex. Period. That very specific event is what s-e-x is for in the first place. We, almighty human beings have distorted it into a tool (forgive the expression) for our own enjoyment, or lust. We are only concerned with what heights our passions will lead us to; and the sacred act, itself, is abused and it’s true meaning, it’s original purpose is obscured beyond retrieval. Looking at it this way, elevates the animals of the forest and the seas above us human beings. At least when they copulate they are fulfilling the honest purpose of the act, procreation.

UPDATE: 4/20/07 *…*= I added the word “birth” to “partial abortion”.

Let me state here that I am a Catholic and I do not believe in abortions in any way, shape or form, or in what month it’s supposedly acceptable and (healthy) to have one. My beliefs are mine alone; and I do not seek to force them upon anyone else. Oh, I will state here that I would willingly give my life so that my unborn baby might live. That is an excruciating difficult choice to make; but despite the fact that I have a husband I do not want to leave, and I have a 2 year old son that I am definitely not ready to leave, I also could not make the decision to end the life of a being inside my body, created with the love that my DH and I share. It’s hard. Even after writing that, I just know that my flesh is weak and I am balking on the inside; but the way that I see it is that God has given me the power to create, he has given me a partner to create with. How can I possibly terminate a life, a soul that God has entrusted to me?

I have to laugh because I just wrote of my personal beliefs and it was not really my intention, but how can that not come into a statement I make on this subject or any other? Though I have, indeed, stated my personal beliefs, I do not judge others. If someone makes the decision to have an abortion, it is between them and God; yet, I cannot fathom how someone can go through that. I, however, grieve.

GRAPHIC GRUESOME DESCRIPTION IN NEXT PARAGRAPH. PLEASE, IF YOU ARE A MOTHER, THINK TWICE ABOUT READING ON. OR BRAVE IT, AS I DID, BUT BE AWARE THE CONTENT IS DISTURBING. THERE ARE PICTURES, BUT I CANNOT BRING MYSELF TO LINK TO THEM. I am sorry, but I believe that a lot of women out there who had the abortion, seriously do not understand that their baby is actually being murdered. I believe that the doctors who do this procedure are leading on the women to believe that the baby doesn’t actually feel it; nay, I believe they are advising that the baby is not a baby at all, just a massive cluster of cells.

What I am truly disturbed about is what I found out about the procedure, itself. I am truly disturbed about what kind of individual, what kind of person would perform this murder under the guise of practicing medicine in the first place. I just learned today that some of these abortions are performed by dismembering the living fetus, inside the mother’s body, then removing it, piece by piece. Gruesome! Other procedures describe pulling the baby out, except for it’s head. The baby is alive, arms and legs moving about. The nurse must assist in making sure the fetus’ head stays in the birth canal. Then the baby is killed, with it’s head still inside, by stabbing him/her with surgical scissors, scissors used otherwise to save a life, then suctioning out the brains, collapsing the skull, effectively killing the baby. “Technically” the baby is not alive because the head is still inside, so it’s supposed to be okay. I want to know how the men and women of the medical profession can live with themselves, being representatives of the Healing Arts? How can they bring themselves to advise a mother to have one? How can they handle a living baby, up to 6-7 months gestation, then commit an act of homicide? Indeed, if the head slipped out, it would be considered homicide. How can they draw that line?

This is a LIFE we are talking about, an advanced life form, no longer an embryo, no longer an entity that our “learned” men (and women) are unsure, confused about whether it’s a life or not…. it’s a life! Again, women should not be getting pregnant if they are not ready to commit to rearing a child.

I do know for a fact that the women that have any type of abortion experience trauma. Though women are placed into the villain’s hat, they are really additional victims. They are victims of poor education. They are victims of a society that condones, indeed, encourages and facilitates promiscuous living. Personally, I DO know women who have had abortions and it was a traumatic experience for them, but really, did they stop having sex? The answer is no. So, what will happen should they get pregnant again? Will they go and have another abortion? When will it stop?

Women need to start taking responsibility for their own bodies, and I don’t mean claiming the right to terminate the gift inside. There was a time, not too long ago, that women knew exactly when they were ovulating. They were so attuned to their bodies that they knew everything that was going on with it. They knew when something went wrong at the slightest sign. When/Why did we become so out of tune with our own bodies? I believe that all this abuse and modern, fast medicine has alienated us from our own bodies. We no longer know ourselves, inside and out. We cannot even bring ourselves to be comfortable with our own bodies. We turn ourselves off to our bodies; we deny our bodies. What happened?

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