Here’s What I Want Donald Trump and Everyone Else to Know About My Late-Term Abortion by Jennifer Gordon

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I spent the first half of 2015 pregnant and then I had a “late-term abortion.”

My husband and I decided early that year to try to start a family. I succeeded almost immediately in getting pregnant. There was obviously a healthy mix of excitement and terror. While it happened a little quicker than we anticipated, we wanted our baby.

As the months went on I consumed books about pregnancy and the first year of parenthood. I took my vitamins, I ate well, and I barely even missed my former creature comforts like wine and soft cheeses. We did the genetic testing and everything looked great. We learned we were having a girl. We started our baby registry and had chosen her name. It was shaping up to be a typical first pregnancy, right down to the occasional panic attack about our changing reality.

On June 18, 2015, we were scheduled for our 21-week ultrasound. I remember the date because it was our anniversary and we thought it would be a fun way to kick off our weekend together. As the ultrasound wore on the tech became increasingly less chatty and more serious, until finally she left the room with a picture she printed from the ultrasound machine. She was gone for what felt like an excruciatingly long time. When she finally returned, she informed us the only information she was allowed to give was that a high-risk OBGYN would be contacting us soon and we needed to see her as soon as possible. Shortly after our ill-fated ultrasound, we received a call from the high-risk OBGYN and scheduled an appointment for the following week.  (More)

Click on the URL below to read the rest of the story:

https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/donald-trump-late-term-abortion_us_5c5b02c5e4b09293b20a8263?ncid=engmodushpmg00000003&fbclid=IwAR2GxVoxtWKegiJM5TaIsrwZ2mqJ4Uqg2bgDHnMrrYVsVv3PglbEzBWjCjg

February 13

February 13

This morning, upon waking,
I kissed my pillow and imagined it was you.
There was no sadness in the act.
It was a simple act of adulation.

If there had been a real person here,
I would wish that it were you,
but I’m content here in my solitude—
writing tributes to past lovers—

a bit puffier (me, not you)
than even that last time we met,
when I waken, joints are stiffer.
The cat more crabby in demands for food.

I wouldn’t say time marches on.
It turns its pages, shifts its screens.
The world, more innovative since the Internet,
spins us a new tale second by second.

Vicariously, we speed through life.
Other people’s lives become our own.
We feed ourselves and perform daily functions,
our minds in one world and our bodies in another.

In that manner,
one thing substitutes for the other.
Over and over, like shuffled cards.

This reality and that one.

Tomorrow the busy street outside my bedroom window
will be full of vendors: hearts and flowers
marking half the world’s celebration
of romantic love.

Upon awakening, I kiss my pillow—
not a conscious act. Not one I will repeat.
A simpler act and one unplanned
to remind myself, perhaps, what’s in my heart.

 

Click on photos to enlarge.

 

The prompt words today are innovative, tribute, adulation and puffy.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/02/13/rdp-wednesday-innovative/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/02/13/fowc-with-fandango-tribute/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/02/13/your-daily-word-prompt-adulation-february-13-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/02/13/puffy/

The Perils of Memory Lane


The Perils of Memory Lane

I’m taking a vacation with my mother and my aunts.
On their sentimental journey, we’ll visit their old haunts.
I’m afraid I have my worries, but I’m hoping all goes well,
and I’m trying my hardest my anxieties to quell.
Our travel plans will take us from the east coast to the plain
of wild South Dakota, and then back home again.

We’re going in September to see the lovely sight
of brilliant autumn colors falling from great height.
Then their favorite Japanese garden will include a bonsai florist

and an attraction of their youth: the Badlands Petrified Forest.
First will be Connecticut to see the falling leaves.
They’ll rain down on our bodies: shoulders, faces, sleeves.

The tiny bonsai gardens will not pose a threat.
When leaflets fall upon my feet, I will not fuss or fret.
Of these stops on our journey, I am not scared at all,
but I worry what will happen this year in the fall
when we tour the petrified forest. Will its trees begin to shed
leaves turned to stones and pebbles that will fall upon my head?

The prompt words today are leaflet, petrified, sentiment and hope.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/02/12/rdp-tuesday-leaflet/
https://fivedotoh.com/2019/02/12/fowc-with-fandango-petrified/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/02/12/your-daily-word-prompt-sentiment-february-12-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/02/12/hope/

The Long Weekend a Smash Hit!!!

Click on photos to enlarge.

A very appreciative audience gave a standing ovation for BARE BONES actors Jeanne Crosby, Dave Perry, Ralph Zimmermann and Jose “Ginger” Rodgers at Sunday night’s opening performance of “The Long Weekend” at Los Cabanos Restaurant in La Manzanilla.  The production was directed by Arleen Pace, assisted by Judy Kaufman.