20-week Sonogram and Partial-Birth Abortion

For those of you who have had your first baby, expected it with sweet anticipation, and charted its growth with frenzied concern and frequent examination on babycenter.com or some such monitoring website, you’ll remember how you felt when it was time to discover the baby’s gender around 20 weeks or so…if you so chose to find out. Like a huge piece of the pregnancy puzzle was about to be revealed.

This time around I did not permit Jeff to come with me to the sonogram. I want at least one child to be a surprise. I allowed us to find out Gideon’s gender because Jeff was too anxious and we really did need to budget and plan as best we could, and I allowed Jeff to find out Scarlett’s gender because he was so puppy-like and eager. You will remember, however, he was unable to keep the secret from me. In fact, I figured it out on the way home from the doctor’s office as he was talking to his mother on the phone. To ensure my surprise THIS TIME, I forbade him to join me. The technician didn’t even look at the genital area, though I almost asked her to, to make sure that if this baby was a little boy he didn’t have two wee-wee’s or something grotesquely uncommon. I refrained.

However, it never ceases to amaze me that even at 20 weeks, barely past halfway through the process, how well-developed the baby is. “He” (because that’s our guess) kept waving at the technician and I, as if he knew we were spying on his doings. He gave me a few kicks for invading, then waved his long skeletal fingers at us (they still don’t have very much fat on their bodies at this point). I could see the black spot that was his heart, the other black spot that was his stomach, his brain, his spine, his fingers, his toes, his eyeball sockets, and his little puckered up mouth. You name it, if the technician could point it out, I could see it. Amazing, really, the magnificent design of a child, even one who weighs only 8 ounces.

That is why I get so fired up, so angry, so sickened when I think of partial-birth abortion because it is typically done between 18 and 26 weeks, right around my precious baby’s tender age. In a Congressional statute, it was even found that partial-birth abortion is a “gruesome and inhumane procedure that is never medically necessary.” Though it is against the law right now, there is a presidential candidate who is vowing to make it legal again. And that brings a churning, uneasy feeling to the pit of my stomach.

You all know that because of my convictions of who Jesus Christ is… and how every life is precious to him, I am opposed to abortion in any respect, as I am opposed to the suffering of any innocent, helpless person who is oppressed by the self-serving heartless minds of those who parade inhumanity as natural and evil as what is right. Though I stand firmly confident that we will all be judged before Holy God himself when we die, it still makes me angry when innocents are abused, mistreated, and murdered for no reason other than the fact that their very lives are an unwanted embarrassment or an untimely inconvenience to those around them.

We are supposed to protect the widows, the innocent, the weak, and the downtrodden. Instead, we legislate their lives and give their impossible futures over to the workings of evil intent. Chivalry has been lost in the annals of fictitious books. Goodness and righteousness have become mere words we relegate to Webster’s largest bound dictionary. Love is butchered, languishing inside illicit sex outside the holy and sacred bound of marriage, stickered to a home we can't afford but we can’t seem to live without, or propped up on an egotistical holiday of candied hearts and roses. Our twisted polluted view of Love in no way compares to Christ's sacrifice of his own life or God's sacrifice of his own son to atone for our sins, to pay that penalty that had to be paid.

Has our human race really come so far in the last 6,000 years, that sin and serving our own self-interests is normal? I am afraid so.

Do you even know what partial-birth abortion entails? I actually almost don’t want to write the words. It’s as if my writing them down actually makes them true. Like many, I’d almost rather ignore the truth of what they do because it’s painful, ugly, and shocking.

It is defined in the Partial-Birth Abortion Act as the following:

“An abortion in which the person performing the abortion, deliberately and intentionally vaginally delivers a living fetus until, in the case of a head-first presentation, the entire fetal head is outside the body of the mother, or, in the case of breech presentation, any part of the fetal trunk past the navel is outside the body of the mother, for the purpose of performing an overt act that the person knows will kill the partially delivered living fetus; and performs the overt act, other than completion of delivery, that kills the partially delivered living fetus. (18 U.S. Code 1531)”

Let me explain this in Audrea-terms. Whomever performs this act, induces labor of the baby, usually in the 2nd or even 3rd trimester. The point is to get the baby down to the opening of the cervix (the hole where he comes out). The baby is purposefully turned breech (so the feet come out first), and then a rod or some long instrument is inserted into the back of the baby’s head, punctures it, and sucks its brains out, leaving a shell of what was once a precious, growing, thriving child. The baby, now dead, can then be pulled out, whole, from the mother with no complications to her.

It makes me nauseous even to write those words.

According to the American Medical Association, this process of partial-birth abortion is called an IDX procedure (intact dilation and extraction):

“First, the cervix is dilated. Second, the fetus is positioned for a footling breech. Third, the fetus is partially pulled out, starting with the feet, as far as the neck. Fourth, the brain and material inside the skull is evacuated, so that a dead but otherwise intact fetus can be delivered via the vagina.”

After reading this, is there anybody who can honestly tell me that it doesn’t make them heartsick and slightly queasy… and they believe it’s okay… AND that they want to vote for a presidential candidate who is vowing to bring this atrocity back? This act is no different than the mass genocides we read about. It is unthinkable and it is abominable.

I could go on and on about it. It's just, when I think of Senator Obama and how he votes, what he's vying for, versus who my Holy God is, there is no comparison, no similarities between the two. Every other issue (and there are many that I care about) pales in comparison to that which is immoral and brutally inhumane.

I'm not trying to say here that McCain is the best choice, but at least I know how he's voted in the past and I know he won't take my tax dollars (or mostly, Jeff's) to pay for these horrific procedures. What about you? Do you want your hard-earned money going to pay for them?

My friend, Janessa

I suppose silence can be golden, but this blogging reprieve doesn’t mean I’ve come up with a really great story (though there is a potentially embarrassing one of myself that I could share, but I’ve got to keep some things to myself).

Rather, I want to mention my friend, Janessa. We met in D.C. about 6 or 7 years ago and became fast friends. Really, though, she becomes fast friends with most people she meets. She’s definitely a one-of-a-kind-gal. About a year ago, she was diagnosed with breast cancer, and she was only 28 at the time. Additionally, and the most scary for those who know and love her, she was just a few months pregnant with her second child.

Through much prayer and supplication on behalf of our heavenly father, she made it through, and her little boy is a strapping young 6-month old, healthy, vibrant, and very much alive. Janessa is still undergoing treatment and obviously could use additional prayer.

Good Morning Texas, a news program in Dallas, interviewed her. If you care to watch the interview, go to http://www.wfaa.com/parent/, scroll down and then click on the link that says “pregnant with breast cancer link” - - you don’t get a true sense of her jovial personality, but you’ll see little glimpses of it.

The Pumpkin Patch

The church down the road from us has a yearly pumpkin patch. It's free. So we took Gideon and Scarlett and attempted to take some pictures. Scarlett was as sweet and cooperative as she could be. Gideon was not. He would not sit still because he was too busy trying to touch and chase the little doggie who was also in attendance. The only time he settled down and latched onto a giant pumpkin was when it was time to go. He didn't want to leave. That's when we finally got some decent pictures. But, do you think we got one of the children together? Of course not. Here are a few of my favorites.

Another Year For Gideon

Well, Gideon’s 2nd year of life has already started off with a bang.

On Sunday morning before church, he broke an arrow key button off my computer (and it’s not popping back on), and just this morning, he took a pen (don’t know where he found it) and wrote all over the covered footstool of the rocking chair. I don’t even know how to begin to get that off. He threw himself kicking and screaming on the floor when I put the broom away because he wanted to “weep.” And as I type, he’s thrown my pillows on the floor, laid on top of them to go “night, night” and pulled out a pacifier from under my bed and popped it in his mouth before I could get it. Who knows how long it’s been under there and how much dust it has collected.

I guess I could go on with the stories, especially how, a few days before his birthday, I’d put his presents from his Grandma Pam in the middle of the table where he couldn’t reach. I went upstairs to collect dirty diapers and when I came back down, I found him sitting in a chair, opened presents in hand, attempting to put his new clothes on over the clothes he was wearing.

I know all of this is perfectly normal behavior for a child his age, but when it’s the oldest child who is charting the waters for the rest, it just exhausts me.

I do love the spontaneity of his affection, though…how he sees me come in a room and runs to jump in my arms and give me the biggest “squeezey” around my neck that his little strength can muster. I love how he loves everyone, waves hello to people even if they don’t see him, and brings smiles to others’ faces with his little antics.

Here's a little photo/video collaboration of his birthday morning.

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Christmas Challenge

Many of you already received the following from me in email form. This is for those of you whose address I do not have or somehow misplaced or simply neglected to click.

Okay, gals. Here’s a challenge for you. A fun one.

Have you wanted to create your own Christmas cards but thought your design skills were seriously lacking?

Well, I joined a Stampin’ Up club. (Yes, me, but desperate times call for desperate measures) but I am actually quite enjoying myself, and I am planning to make all of my Christmas cards this year. Whoo hoo…the ideas are spilling forth as I type.

Anyway, here’s my challenge. I want to receive as many “homemade” Christmas cards from you as possible (that’s why I’m sending the email out now). I don’t care if you order from Stampin’ Up, go to Hobby Lobby, or stop by Target’s stationary section and get stocked up on supplies. I just think it will be neat to see what kind of creativity we can conjure forth. Now, I would totally host a party for ideas and help if we all lived in the same area, but we don’t. That doesn’t mean we can’t still do it from afar and admire 1st place, 2nd, funniest, craziest, etc. I will even take pictures of my favorites and post to the blog.


Read no further if you’re not interested in Stampin’ Up. Just get busy creating.

However, if you would like to order from Stampin’ Up…they have pre-packaged sets called “Simply Scrappin Kits” that have everything in them (minus the stamps) for less than $20. The gal who is my “demonstrator” bought one of those last year and made 75 cards from it! that's 27 cents per card...even cheaper than a stamp! You better believe that is my plan, too. If you’re interested, you can check out her site: www.pollymarkcards.stampinup.net where you’ll find those kits and other stuff you don’t need.

Additionally, (no pressure here since I really don’t care where you get your supplies), if you do decide you want to order from them, you can call or email me with it and if it’s before next Saturday the 11th you’ll help me win extra stuff since it’s my turn to hostess the club. But, like I said, do what’s fiscally best for you and your family. Let’s just get creative and make some cool Christmas cards!

BOGO

Does fall, or spring for that matter, do to you what it does to me?

For the last two weeks there has been a brisk chill in the air in the morning. It makes me feel alive, as if something exciting has the potential to happen every day. I don’t know what it is, but the drastic changes in season always jump start me for the first few weeks. I love it.

I haven’t felt like writing, due much in part to the sick ones and the lack of sleep, but even Gideon waking at 3:45 last night and staying that way until 5:30 didn’t have the power to diminish the thrill of waking. I liken it to rousing oneself on Christmas morning to the sights and smells of warmth and family, or, for those of you married, the anticipation when you go to sleep (or attempt to) the night before your wedding. There’s just something in the change in weather that solidifies God’s existence for me…especially after a hot and very pregnant summer in Texas…when that first breath of cool air returns after a very long and cruel absence. Though I don’t think my family and friends back in Texas have yet to experience that first cool breeze yet this year. Sending you each imaginary waves of invigorating fresh air…

I actually have several stories I was planning to share, but for the sake of your potentially tired eyes, I will only rehash the BOGO story.

The commercials for Payless Shoes drive me crazy. They have taken the “buy one get one free” concept and shortened it to BOGO. I cannot but think of a pogo stick every time I see one of their commercials and it’s not even a connection that makes sense except in a rhyming dictionary.

Two or three days ago, Jeff was insensitive, or maybe, just maybe, I was being overly sensitive (I am pregnant, remember) all day. Whatever he said to me hit a blubber-till-I-couldn’t-blubber-anymore button. I informed him, rather selfishly and dramatically, that I had neither the ability nor the power to show him any love for the remainder of the evening. Granted, it was already past my bedtime when the atrocity occurred, so I really should have just ignored him, rolled over, and went to sleep. However, on this particular night, even after he apologized, I just couldn’t let it go, and had to find solace in Scripture. This only proved to make me feel guilty for holding onto my hurt and angst, so I went downstairs and turned on the TBS movie until I got sleepy and forgetful.

For me, when the morning comes, I barely even remember unpleasantness, but Jeff, the self-proclaimed “elephant who never forgets” remembers everything.

I was sitting on the sofa in the afternoon before he got home thinking of the old love song my dad used to sing with a line that says “you don’t buy me flowers, you don’t sing me love songs…anymore.” I guess I hadn’t totally forgotten the overblown slight as much as I thought I had.

Well, true to sweet form, Jeff came home with a bouquet of daisies for me. I thought it was a little strange that they were blue and white since I had never expressed an interest in those particular colors before. I then examined the cellophane wrapping (which was blue) and saw that there was a huge imprint of the Star of David. I didn’t say anything, but I was somewhat perplexed. Perhaps the colors of blue and white meant “I’m sorry” and Jeff picked out his own cellophane.

Jeff saw me looking and then piped up.

“They were having a buy one, get one free sale at Publix, so I picked up two bouquets because I thought I was getting more for my money and I had never brought you home this color set before. However, when I got to the checkout line, these actually weren’t the BOGO free. I just decided to keep one anyway. But, I’m not sure why there is a Star of David on it. There was another one inside the bouquet that I already pulled out.”

I processed that monologue for only a moment.

“Well, honey. I heard on the news that tomorrow is a Jewish holiday… Rosh Hashanah.”

I started to cut the cellophane, pulled out a glass vase, and then began to laugh as the absurdity hit me. Not only did this man bring me home a strange collaboration of painted blue and white flowers, they actually were assembled to commemorate the Jewish New Year (as we later discovered and have never celebrated), and, in addition, he was also trying to get himself a BOGO!! When I repeated his actions to him, we both laughed and laughed until all was forgiven and forgotten.

Every time I pass by the dining room table and see those flowers, though, I chuckle.