My friend Marti sent me this excellent article that I have to send on to you:
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:
My friend Gloria Palazzo just attended a concert by this local group, Rondalla de Chapala. It was just awarded the distinction of being the best Rondalla group in Mexico! Enjoy.
Earlier this week, I published a poem about cowboys and illustrated it with a photo of three cowboys that I took on the street during the 100th anniversary parade of the little town I grew up in in South Dakota. I had no idea who they were, but today I received this communication on my Facebook page that not only identified two of the handsome young cowboys, but which also informed me of an unusual twist of fate concerning the identity of one of the cowboys. Here is that Facebook conversation with Wayne Esmay, who still lives in (or near) my hometown of Murdo, South Dakota:
This is what I had to say about wanderlust four years ago!
The prompt from RDP today is wanderlust.
A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it. ~George Moore
This quote says succinctly what I have been saying to friends lately. I no longer feel the push to travel but would rather stay home and think and write. At first this made me feel old and then I started to realize that it is in the natural order of things to seek and then reflect. It is not just a question of energy, but more a matter of the direction of one’s curiosity. The more I traveled, the more I found that things do not vary that much. Everywhere I’ve gone, the same personalities are sprinkled over the landscape. Only the landscape and the percentages change. Once you’ve found a place where there are the greatest number of people who appreciate you for who you really are, you have…
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I can’t answer the prompt “Believe” without rerunning this blog from a few years ago. Go HERE to see it.