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Jo Ashline: A Story Behind Every Number

NewbornManaging Editor's Note: This post in the OC Register caught my eye.  We can relate to the feeling of shock, the grief and then rolling up the sleeves and getting to work and back to love. 

By Jo Ashline

There is a mommy-to-be out there somewhere rubbing her belly and stocking up on antacids because she’s eating for two (and maybe, sometimes, when no one’s looking, for three). She spends hours researching the best car seat and stroller systems, daydreaming while doing the dishes about long walks in the park and whether she will allow strangers a sneak peak at the most gorgeous baby ever to be born.

Her husband, a good man with a big heart, dutifully goes to work each day, socking away dollars and cents and nursing his own daydreams about teaching his son to play catch. He makes a silent promise to keep his cool when bragging to his co-workers about his boy’s natural talent on the field, his impeccable hand-eye-coordination and his speed and endurance. He does his best to try and stay in the present, but every once in a while, as he crunches the numbers and updates the spreadsheets, he stares off into the distance and pictures his son, a handsome fellow that looks remarkably like him.

They welcome their future in the east wing of their local hospital, possibly the most perfect afternoon of their young adult lives. Ten tiny toes, an even tinier nose, still they hold their breath until the doctor assures them there is nothing wrong. Having no reason to doubt what he says, they allow the giddiness to permeate through the exhaustion as they realize that this is the first day of the rest of their lives. Naturally, they are sure that everything will fall into place for their shiny brand new family of three and they fill that sterile room with more love than they know what to do with.

They have no way of knowing yet (and this is probably best anyway) that something stealth and silent will sneak upon their joyful plans and test their faith and love for each other, for God, and yes, even for this little person (I learned long ago that it’s okay to admit that) laying there wrapped like a burrito, tucked between his blissfully ignorant parents.

Eventually, maybe on a warm March afternoon or a chilly September evening, a new reality will set in as milestones continue to be missed and no matter how hard they try, the camera still can’t catch his eye and they realize they can no longer blame the photographer.... Read the full post at OC Register Blogs.


Cherry Misra

There is no joy in the birth of a baby any longer- just the thought of one more beautiful helpless being poisoned on the first day of life with JUST 4 micrograms or less of mercury and a big dose of aluminium (and worse if you live in the third world). Day before yesterday I received the news of the addition of Ginger Joy to my cousin's family. What do I do now? Ginger Joys mom has had diabetes since childhood. She is the first one who needs to be careful about vaccines. But her mom is a trusting nurse who still thinks that the GOOD doctors know nearly everything. Down below there is a photo of Ginger Joy. What a relief- Ginger Joy is in fact ...... A PUPPY !!!


Those antacids are loaded with aluminum fillers,best not to use them.

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