Posted on 10/15/2002 6:37:29 PM PDT by M. Peach
Please direct her to one of the many post-abortion support groups that exist on the internet and probably nearby. She can remain anonymous and tell her story and maybe come to realize she is not alone in her pain. If she suppressed her pain and never let go of it, she's never given her heart a chance to heal. She may never "get over it" but the pain can ease if she'll let it out. Post-abortion support
How true. I vividly remember my wife's panic when it became increasingly more apparent that our son was going to take after me. My wife is tiny. I'm not. I remember staying up nights sweating and thinking that there is no way that baby is going to come out of her. I felt very guilty.
Please don't take my posts out of context. I am not pro-abortion. I just think it's politically impractical to swallow the elephant whole. You have to take little bites. First stop partial birth abortions. Then get it down to a trimester, then try and get either a majority of truly conservative justices on SCOTUS, or pass an Amendment to the Constitution. Until then conservatives are just wasting time fighting each other instead of beating up on liberals.
It’s twenty one weeks and the baby is ill
But what is the doctor to do?
He’s there in the womb and there isn’t much hope
A miracle soon comes true
Mom says “Operate, because Samuel needs help”
The whole thing is very well planned
The doctor’s surprised when his finger is grabbed
“My God, it is Samuel’s hand…tiny hand"
They’re not tissue mass…they are not a choice, now
Come join if you will…by raising your voice now
They’re not tissue mass…my God, they are babies
Abortion is wrong…it’s got to be stopped somehow
For too many years many babies like him
Are ripped from their safe mother’s womb
Purveyors of death taking innocent life
Hell waits for those in that room
They’re selfish and cruel…they are evil indeed
How many more children must die?
We can’t turn our heads…we all have to stand up
Can't you hear the angels cry…angels cry
They’re not tissue mass…they are not a choice, now
Come join if you will…by raising your voice now
They’re not tissue mass…my God, they are babies
Abortion is wrong…it’s got to be stopped somehow
Oh, how many more must die…can't you hear angels cry?
How many more must die…can't you hear angels cry?
They’re not tissue mass…they are not a choice, now
Come join if you will…by raising your voice now
They’re not tissue mass…my God, they are babies
Abortion is wrong…it’s got to be stopping
They’re not tissue mass…they are not a choice, now
Come join if you will…by raising your voice now
They’re not tissue mass…my God, they are babies
Abortion is wrong…it’s got to be stopping
They’re not tissue mass…they are not a choice, now
Come join if you will…by raising your voice now
They’re not tissue mass…my God, they are babies
Abortion is wrong…it’s got to be stopping
Letters and replies File:
Smell Of Rain: The story of Danae comforted on God's chest
A cold March wind danced around the dead of night in Dallas as the Doctor walked into the small hospital room of Diana Blessing. Still groggy from surgery, her husband David held her hand as they braced themselves for the latest news. That afternoon of March 10, 1991, complications had forced Diana, only 24-weeks pregnant, to undergo an emergency cesarean to deliver the couple's new daughter, Danae Lu Blessing.
At 12 inches long and weighing only one pound and nine ounces, they already knew she was perilously premature. Still, the doctor's soft words dropped like bombs. 'I don't think she's going to make it', he said, as kindly as he could. "There's only a 10-percent chance she will live through the night, and even then, if by some slim chance she does make it, her future could be a very cruel one".
Numb with disbelief, David and Diana listened as the doctor described the devastating problems Danae would likely face if she survived. She would never walk, she would never talk, she would probably be blind, and she would certainly be prone to other catastrophic conditions from cerebral palsy to complete mental retardation, and on and on.
"No! No!" was all Diana could say. She and David, with their 5-year-old son Dustin, had long dreamed of the day they would have a daughter to become a family of four. Now, within a matter of hours, that dream was slipping away.
Through the dark hours of morning as Danae held onto life by the thinnest thread, Diana slipped in and out of sleep, growing more and more determined that their tiny daughter would live-and live to be a healthy, happy young girl. But David, fully awake and listening to additional dire details of their daughter's chances of ever leaving the hospital alive, much less healthy, knew he must confront his wife with the inevitable.
David walked in and said that we needed to talk about making funeral arrangements. Diana remembers 'I felt so bad for him because he was doing everything, trying to include me in what was going on, but I just wouldn't listen, I couldn't listen.' I said, "No, that is not going to happen, no way! I don't care what the doctors say; Danae is not going to die! One day she will be just fine, and she will be coming home with us!" As if willed to live by Diana's determination, Danae clung to life hour after hour, with the help of every medical machine and marvel her miniature body could endure.
But as those first days passed, a new agony set in for David and Diana. Because Danae's underdeveloped nervous system was essentially 'raw,' the lightest kiss or caress only intensified her discomfort, so they couldn't even cradle their tiny baby girl against their chests to offer the strength of their love. All they could do, as Danae struggled alone beneath the ultraviolet light in the tangle of tubes and wires, was to pray that God would stay close to their precious little girl. There was never a moment when Danae suddenly grew stronger. But as the weeks went by, she did slowly gain an ounce of weight here and an ounce of strength there.
At last, when Danae turned two months old, her parents were able to hold her in their arms for the very first time. And two months later, though doctors continued to gently but grimly warn that her chances of surviving, much less living any kind of normal life, were next to zero, Danae went home from the hospital--just as her mother had predicted.
Today, five years later, Danae is a petite but feisty young girl with glittering gray eyes and an unquenchable zest for life. She shows no signs, what so ever, of any mental or physical impairment. Simply, she is everything a little girl can be and more-but that happy ending is far from the end of her story.
One blistering afternoon in the summer of 1996 near her home in Irving, Texas, Danae was sitting in her mother's lap in the bleachers of a local ballpark where her brother Dustin's baseball team was practicing.
As always, Danae was chattering nonstop with her mother and several other adults sitting nearby when she suddenly fell silent. Hugging her arms across her chest, Danae asked, "Do you smell that?"
Smelling the air and detecting the approach of a thunderstorm, Diana replied, "Yes, it smells like rain."
Danae closed her eyes and again asked, "Do you smell that?"
Once again, her mother replied, "Yes, I think we're about to get wet, it smells like rain.
Still caught in the moment, Danae shook her head, patted her thin shoulders with her small hands and loudly announced, "No, it smells like Him. It smells like God when you lay your head on His chest."
Tears blurred Diana's eyes as Danae then happily hopped down to play with the other children. Before the rains came, her daughter's words confirmed what Diana and all the members of the extended Blessing family had known, at least in their hearts, all along. During those long days and nights of her first two months of her life, when her nerves were too sensitive for them to touch her, God was holding Danae on His chest and it is His loving scent that she remembers so well.
img src=http://members.tripod.com/~joseromia/smsamuel.jpg> Dear Friends and Family,
Samuel arrived on Thursday, Dec. 2 at 6:25 pm at Northside Hospital weighing 5 lbs 11 oz and 20 1/2 " long. He was born at 36 weeks but came into the world screaming his head off! He did not have to spend any time in a neonatal unit and came home with us on Monday, Dec. 6. After viewing an ultrasound of his brain, Samuel's neurosurgeon was very optimistic as he does not have any hydrocephalus and the brain malformation has resolved. He is moving his legs very well from the hips and some from the knees. He was frank breech (folded in half) in the womb and the orthopedist feels that he has a good chance for walking. He will begin physical therapy next week in order to work out some of the stiffness in his legs that was a result of his being folded in half in the womb. He is also nursing very well.
Thank you all for your prayers and support. We are happier than we ever dreamed possible!
All our love,
Julie, Alex and Samuel Armas
Click on the tripod thingy to see the kid
Yes, and I love that commercial! Hubby and I are close to starting our own family so whenever I see that commercial, I get teary with joy. ;-)
That's how a lot of post-abortive women feel. It is a way that Satan uses to spiritually destroy women, first with the abortion, and then with the guilty conscience. He uses all the pro-choice women he can get to push his agenda of destruction. They may not realize they are in league with the Devil, but they are.
This is deception for you. Tell your friend about Project Rachel, they have helped many women. She may find it easier to forgive herself when she realizes the extent to which she'd been deceived.
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