Posted on 07/27/2012 4:36:04 PM PDT by marcbold
I am a father of five children here on Earth. And three more who, with God's mercy, I hope to meet in Heaven someday. I think about those children sometimes (often). It's not something I talk about often (ever?) but I mourn them.
You don't know when grief from something like that will hit. Sometimes it's when someone tells me they're shocked that I have five children. I say, "Yes I have five children." And I secretly think of the three.
Sometimes it's random moments when the kids are getting into the van and I think of the seats that aren't filled with laughing messy children. It stops me for a second and I have to accept it all over again and go on. I have to remind myself to breathe. Remind myself to step. And step again. And I do.
But sometimes...a lot of times...it just hits at night when it's quiet and dark. And I think and wonder if there's something I could've done. Maybe called the doctor sooner or maybe called for another opinion. Something. Anything. And I think of the times I put my hand on my wife's womb and perhaps didn't know that at that moment my son or daughter was dying in the womb and I didn't know. It makes me feel small. And powerless.
I tell you this because I read something today that was like a smack in the face. Just horrifying.
Bloomberg News reports on a story where a mother learned that her unborn child had a defect:
Jennifer Hercegovac and her husband picked out a name, set up a nursery and sold her business so she could be a stay-at-home mother. Then, when she was 18 weeks pregnant, an ultrasound detected fetal heart defects...
(Excerpt) Read more at ncregister.com ...
My idea of a humane abortion requires a Time Machine, a bottle of RU 486 and an airplane ticket to Hawaii....
[knock knock]
Yes Hello, does a Stanley Ann Dunham live here?
Oh dear. I get your point, but it’s a brutal attitude anyhow. No baby is a “bad” baby. You know that.
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