Dear Friends,
Christ is in our midst!
The 19th annual Respect Life Conference details released
The 2018 Respect Life Conference will be held on Saturday, October 13, at Our Lady Queen of Angels Parish --Holy Angels Campus, 585 Main Street, South Meriden, 9:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m.
Archbishop Leonard Blair will welcome and open the conference
Dr. Jennifer Roback Morse, Keynote speaker --founder of the Ruth Institute
Guest speakers:
Judith M. Mascolo, MD
Roderick P. Murphy
Elaine Blondin Mello, PhD
Registration is $25.00 per person (includes hospitality and lunch)
checks payable:
Respect Life Conference
PO Box 392
Meriden, CT 06450
No fee for priests, deacons, religious and seminarians
PAX!
++++
Paul A. Zalonski
Catholic Connecticut
255 Foxon Hill Road
East Haven, CT 06513-1216 USA
CatholicCT@gmail.com
Follow Paul on Twitter @CatholicCT
Connect with Paul on Facebook "Catholic Connecticut CatholicCT"
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Thursday, July 19, 2018
Wednesday, July 12, 2017
Last chance for Charlie! You can help save his life!
This is it. The parents of Charlie Gard are looking to get 1 MILLION signatures before tomorrow to save Charlie's life.
Please, take a moment...just seconds, to do what you can to help save this baby's life. They need MORE signatures! Please add your name!
PETITION TO: GREAT ORMOND STREET HOSPITAL
Petition to Save Charlie Gard: 10-month-old sentenced to death at London hospital
Save Charlie Gard
Great Ormond Street Hospital,
I implore you to allow Charlie Gard’s parents to use their personal funds to transport him to the United States to receive treatment.
It is unacceptable that you have refused to follow the wishes of his parents and have instead decided to remove his life support, which will kill him.
Please save Charlie Gard! Do not remove his life support. This decision should remain where it belongs, with his loving parents. It is not the purview of the state or the hospital to make these decisions for his parents.
I, and the entire international community, will be outraged if you kill Charlie Gard.
Sincerely,
[Your Name]
Source: http://www.citizengo.org/en/lf/71800-petition-save-charlie-gard-10-month-old-sentenced-death-london-hospital
In Christ,
Julie @ Connecticut Catholic Corner
Friday, May 6, 2016
Mother's Day and aborted babies part 2
Last year I wrote an article called "Mother's Day and aborted babies". The article was a follow up to an earlier article called "Two very different mothers".
I suggest reading "Two very different mothers" if you haven't already to better understand this post.
Assuming you have now read that article on the Salon's Jenny Kutner's very public abortion and the octopus mother (some of you are going 'WHAT? Octopus mother?' - told ya, ya gotta read the first article!), who was willing to give her own life for the lives of her offspring.
Jenny Kutner's abortion stuck with me and month's later when Mother's Day was coming up Kutner was on my mind a lot. I wondered how she would feel on this first Mother's Day since her abortion. Many women suffer great depression and self loathing. They bury it and tell people lies because they don't want to admit that what they did is haunting them and having an effect on them.
Abortion stays with a person their entire life. It does not go away.
So I wrote about that first Mother's Day since Kutner's abortion and as Mother's Day approaches again this year I got a few unexpected comments from Jenny Kutner's mother, Pam Kutner...
These are the automated email copies of the comments left on my blog because as Pam Kutner and I were discussing this, she decided to call me a "nut" and delete her previous (above) comments from the article page.
But now she's back again (see newest comments in the "Mother's Day and aborted babies" article) and now The Federalist has picked up the story as has dozens of Facebook pages.
So here I am, sharing the story of Jenny Kutner's abortion and Mother's Day once more.
In Christ,
Julie @ Connecticut Catholic Corner
Links:
Jenny Kutner from Salon: http://www.salon.com/2014/08/01/im_having_an_abortion_this_weekend/
My article from 2014 (Two Very Different Mothers): http://connecticutcatholiccorner.blogspot.com/2014/08/two-very-different-mothers.html
My article from 2015 (Mother's Day and aborted babies): http://connecticutcatholiccorner.blogspot.com/2015/05/mothers-day-and-aborted-babies.html
The Federalist: http://thefederalist.com/2016/05/06/mothers-day-is-not-the-time-to-justify-your-abortion/
I suggest reading "Two very different mothers" if you haven't already to better understand this post.
Assuming you have now read that article on the Salon's Jenny Kutner's very public abortion and the octopus mother (some of you are going 'WHAT? Octopus mother?' - told ya, ya gotta read the first article!), who was willing to give her own life for the lives of her offspring.
Jenny Kutner's abortion stuck with me and month's later when Mother's Day was coming up Kutner was on my mind a lot. I wondered how she would feel on this first Mother's Day since her abortion. Many women suffer great depression and self loathing. They bury it and tell people lies because they don't want to admit that what they did is haunting them and having an effect on them.
Abortion stays with a person their entire life. It does not go away.
So I wrote about that first Mother's Day since Kutner's abortion and as Mother's Day approaches again this year I got a few unexpected comments from Jenny Kutner's mother, Pam Kutner...
These are the automated email copies of the comments left on my blog because as Pam Kutner and I were discussing this, she decided to call me a "nut" and delete her previous (above) comments from the article page.
But now she's back again (see newest comments in the "Mother's Day and aborted babies" article) and now The Federalist has picked up the story as has dozens of Facebook pages.
So here I am, sharing the story of Jenny Kutner's abortion and Mother's Day once more.
In Christ,
Julie @ Connecticut Catholic Corner
Links:
Jenny Kutner from Salon: http://www.salon.com/2014/08/01/im_having_an_abortion_this_weekend/
My article from 2014 (Two Very Different Mothers): http://connecticutcatholiccorner.blogspot.com/2014/08/two-very-different-mothers.html
My article from 2015 (Mother's Day and aborted babies): http://connecticutcatholiccorner.blogspot.com/2015/05/mothers-day-and-aborted-babies.html
The Federalist: http://thefederalist.com/2016/05/06/mothers-day-is-not-the-time-to-justify-your-abortion/
Saturday, October 3, 2015
Do you know who this woman is?
A Vietnam Vet who was moments away from taking his life ran into a stranger who changed everything for him.
As quickly as this woman entered his life, she disappeared and now, decades later, he's still wondering about her and looking to find her to tell her how she saved his life.
Maybe one of my readers can help...
I met you in the rain on the last day of 1972 - m4w
I met you in the rain on the last day of 1972, the same day I resolved to kill myself.
One week prior, at the behest of Richard Nixon and Henry Kissinger, I'd flown four B-52 sorties over Hanoi. I dropped forty-eight bombs. How many homes I destroyed, how many lives I ended, I'll never know. But in the eyes of my superiors, I had served my country honorably, and I was thusly discharged with such distinction.
And so on the morning of that New Year's Eve, I found myself in a barren studio apartment on Beacon and Hereford with a fifth of Tennessee rye and the pang of shame permeating the recesses of my soul. When the bottle was empty, I made for the door and vowed, upon returning, that I would retrieve the Smith & Wesson Model 15 from the closet and give myself the discharge I deserved.
I walked for hours. I looped around the Fenway before snaking back past Symphony Hall and up to Trinity Church. Then I roamed through the Common, scaled the hill with its golden dome, and meandered into that charming labyrinth divided by Hanover Street. By the time I reached the waterfront, a charcoal sky had opened and a drizzle became a shower. That shower soon gave way to a deluge. While the other pedestrians darted for awnings and lobbies, I trudged into the rain. I suppose I thought, or rather hoped, that it might wash away the patina of guilt that had coagulated around my heart. It didn't, of course, so I started back to the apartment.
And then I saw you.
You'd taken shelter under the balcony of the Old State House. You were wearing a teal ball gown, which appeared to me both regal and ridiculous. Your brown hair was matted to the right side of your face, and a galaxy of freckles dusted your shoulders. I'd never seen anything so beautiful.
When I joined you under the balcony, you looked at me with your big green eyes, and I could tell that you'd been crying. I asked if you were okay. You said you'd been better. I asked if you'd like to have a cup of coffee. You said only if I would join you. Before I could smile, you snatched my hand and led me on a dash through Downtown Crossing and into Neisner's.
We sat at the counter of that five and dime and talked like old friends. We laughed as easily as we lamented, and you confessed over pecan pie that you were engaged to a man you didn't love, a banker from some line of Boston nobility. A Cabot, or maybe a Chaffee. Either way, his parents were hosting a soirée to ring in the New Year, hence the dress.
For my part, I shared more of myself than I could have imagined possible at that time. I didn't mention Vietnam, but I got the sense that you could see there was a war waging inside me. Still, your eyes offered no pity, and I loved you for it.
After an hour or so, I excused myself to use the restroom. I remember consulting my reflection in the mirror. Wondering if I should kiss you, if I should tell you what I'd done from the cockpit of that bomber a week before, if I should return to the Smith & Wesson that waited for me. I decided, ultimately, that I was unworthy of the resuscitation this stranger in the teal ball gown had given me, and to turn my back on such sweet serendipity would be the real disgrace.
On the way back to the counter, my heart thumped in my chest like an angry judge's gavel, and a future -- our future -- flickered in my mind. But when I reached the stools, you were gone. No phone number. No note. Nothing.
As strangely as our union had begun, so too had it ended. I was devastated. I went back to Neisner's every day for a year, but I never saw you again. Ironically, the torture of your abandonment seemed to swallow my self-loathing, and the prospect of suicide was suddenly less appealing than the prospect of discovering what had happened in that restaurant. The truth is I never really stopped wondering.
I'm an old man now, and only recently did I recount this story to someone for the first time, a friend from the VFW. He suggested I look for you on Facebook. I told him I didn't know anything about Facebook, and all I knew about you was your first name and that you had lived in Boston once. And even if by some miracle I happened upon your profile, I'm not sure I would recognize you. Time is cruel that way.
This same friend has a particularly sentimental daughter. She's the one who led me here to Craigslist and these Missed Connections. But as I cast this virtual coin into the wishing well of the cosmos, it occurs to me, after a million what-ifs and a lifetime of lost sleep, that our connection wasn't missed at all.You see, in these intervening forty-two years I've lived a good life. I've loved a good woman. I've raised a good man. I've seen the world. And I've forgiven myself. And you were the source of all of it. You breathed your spirit into my lungs one rainy afternoon, and you can't possibly imagine my gratitude.
I have hard days, too. My wife passed four years ago. My son, the year after. I cry a lot. Sometimes from the loneliness, sometimes I don't know why. Sometimes I can still smell the smoke over Hanoi. And then, a few dozen times a year, I'll receive a gift. The sky will glower, and the clouds will hide the sun, and the rain will begin to fall. And I'll remember.
So wherever you've been, wherever you are, and wherever you're going, know this: you're with me still.
I met you in the rain on the last day of 1972, the same day I resolved to kill myself.
One week prior, at the behest of Richard Nixon and Henry Kissinger, I'd flown four B-52 sorties over Hanoi. I dropped forty-eight bombs. How many homes I destroyed, how many lives I ended, I'll never know. But in the eyes of my superiors, I had served my country honorably, and I was thusly discharged with such distinction.
I walked for hours. I looped around the Fenway before snaking back past Symphony Hall and up to Trinity Church. Then I roamed through the Common, scaled the hill with its golden dome, and meandered into that charming labyrinth divided by Hanover Street. By the time I reached the waterfront, a charcoal sky had opened and a drizzle became a shower. That shower soon gave way to a deluge. While the other pedestrians darted for awnings and lobbies, I trudged into the rain. I suppose I thought, or rather hoped, that it might wash away the patina of guilt that had coagulated around my heart. It didn't, of course, so I started back to the apartment.
You'd taken shelter under the balcony of the Old State House. You were wearing a teal ball gown, which appeared to me both regal and ridiculous. Your brown hair was matted to the right side of your face, and a galaxy of freckles dusted your shoulders. I'd never seen anything so beautiful.
We sat at the counter of that five and dime and talked like old friends. We laughed as easily as we lamented, and you confessed over pecan pie that you were engaged to a man you didn't love, a banker from some line of Boston nobility. A Cabot, or maybe a Chaffee. Either way, his parents were hosting a soirée to ring in the New Year, hence the dress.
After an hour or so, I excused myself to use the restroom. I remember consulting my reflection in the mirror. Wondering if I should kiss you, if I should tell you what I'd done from the cockpit of that bomber a week before, if I should return to the Smith & Wesson that waited for me. I decided, ultimately, that I was unworthy of the resuscitation this stranger in the teal ball gown had given me, and to turn my back on such sweet serendipity would be the real disgrace.
As strangely as our union had begun, so too had it ended. I was devastated. I went back to Neisner's every day for a year, but I never saw you again. Ironically, the torture of your abandonment seemed to swallow my self-loathing, and the prospect of suicide was suddenly less appealing than the prospect of discovering what had happened in that restaurant. The truth is I never really stopped wondering.
This same friend has a particularly sentimental daughter. She's the one who led me here to Craigslist and these Missed Connections. But as I cast this virtual coin into the wishing well of the cosmos, it occurs to me, after a million what-ifs and a lifetime of lost sleep, that our connection wasn't missed at all.You see, in these intervening forty-two years I've lived a good life. I've loved a good woman. I've raised a good man. I've seen the world. And I've forgiven myself. And you were the source of all of it. You breathed your spirit into my lungs one rainy afternoon, and you can't possibly imagine my gratitude.
So wherever you've been, wherever you are, and wherever you're going, know this: you're with me still.
Tuesday, May 5, 2015
Mother's Day and aborted babies
As Mother’s Day approaches I am filled with mostly wonderful
thoughts. Remembering my own excitement
the first time I was counted among the many women who could celebrate Mother’s
Day for the first time. I also remember
all the Mother’s Days of my childhood, making cards for my own mother and
grandmothers and great grandmother.
Picking flowers in the yard and field behind my house, wrapping them in
Barbie ribbons (Mom wasn’t much of a crafter, so I had to make due), holding
them behind my back waiting until she poured over each word my broken Crayola’s
had written, including the X’s and O’s under my neatly printed name. When she looked up smiling from my handmade
card I would say “Happy Mother’s Day!” as if she hadn’t known what day it
was. My little brother beside me
repeated all I did and looked to me to see if he got it right.
When I was older and married with my first and then second
child, Mother’s Day became even more profound.
Now it was me reading the handmade cards my children created for me, and
placing their flowers in a prominent place in the house where I could show
everyone who came over what my beautiful children had done for me on Mother’s
Day. Precious memories.
Memories some people will never ever have. Instead Mother’s Day for some of them is filled with
a haunting void- a place that a child should have filled, but instead guilt and
emptiness is all there is. Still others are so cold and empty it filters through their brains but nothing touches their hearts. I’m not
talking about the pain and tragic suffering of a Mother who lost her child to
death. I am talking about a mother who
paid someone cold cash to murder her child growing in her womb.
One such woman I am thinking of this week is Jenny Kutner, a writer at Salon who last August wrote about her planned abortion. Her callous and cold selfish online story has haunted me since I read it last August...
I wrote about her back then, about what she
had done and how there was no motherly instinct in her at all to love and
protect the child growing in her womb.
Instead she was filled with disdain and disgust at the tiny child. Her story still haunts me as does the child she heartlessly killed. I can't help but wonder if she feels differently today.
Has what she's done had any effect on her at all? Regret? Remorse? Guilt? Depression? Sadly, I think not going by her subsequent writings on birth control and sex.
Still, I wonder how she feels today as Mother’s Day approaches. This first Mother's Day since her abortion...a day she might have celebrated with a child in her arms. How will she feel every Mother’s Day for the
rest of her life knowing she paid someone to murder her child because the
timing was wrong? How do the people who
supported her “choice” to abort her child feel?
Her mother, who would be a grandmother today? Her father, who would be a grandfather? Are they thinking of the grandchild they helped murder? Do they wonder what color eyes or hair their grandchild would have? Do they miss holding and loving this child they helped abort? Do they recall their dead grandchild at all?
How about her 'supportive' aunts? Uncles?
Friends? All those people who
told her they supported her “choice” to pay another human being to kill the
life growing within her. The life of HER
child…a child that would one day create Mother’s Day cards for her, pick
flowers for her and call her ‘mommy’.
That child is dead this Mother’s Day. They helped killed him/her. Collectively, with Kutner's choice of abortionist, these people murdered this child. Kutner and all her supporters will never know that innocent child
because together this murderous group helped another human being snuff out this
child’s life. Does anyone of her "supporters" think of this child?
I hope they are thinking of Kutner’s baby this and every Mother’s Day for the rest of their lives.
I hope they feel guilt and remorse.
I hope they pray to God for forgiveness for what they’ve done- the murder they've committed. That child’s blood is on all their hands. I wonder if they ever think of that? Do they care?
For the sake of the souls of every single person who has had an abortion, performs an abortion and who supports abortion, I pray you will repent for what you have done/are doing. It's murder.
This Mother's Day, I am asking my readers to PRAY for the mothers and fathers who have murdered their children, and for those who helped and offered their support in the butchering of a human being. And pray for the end of abortion.
Mother's Day is a time to celebrate our children and the mothers and grandmother's who give them life, but we can't forget those the world has lost because they were aborted. We can't forget them...ever.
In Christ,
Julie @ Connecticut Catholic Corner
Kutner's planned abortion story: http://www.salon.com/2014/08/01/im_having_an_abortion_this_weekend/
My previous write up on Kutner: http://connecticutcatholiccorner.blogspot.com/2014/08/two-very-different-mothers.html
UPDATE: The Federalist has picked up this article: http://thefederalist.com/2016/05/06/mothers-day-is-not-the-time-to-justify-your-abortion/
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Comments removed but not forgotten because every comment made on this blog automatically comes to my email:
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
Bullied for being pregnant...
Just when I think people can't get nastier they surprise me and manage to get even nastier.
A pregnant weather woman, Kristi Gordon, from Global News is receiving hate mail because she is pregnant.
Apparently, people are so offended by her "fat" pregnant belly and her maternity clothes that they are sending her hate mail, asking she get off the air until she is no longer "fat" because they find pregnant women to be repulsive.
No really.
What sort of person does this?
What sort of person sees a pregnant working mom on television, gets to repulsed with a woman carrying life within her, that they take the time to write and send a horrible letter insulting, bullying and degrading her?
Who does that?
It certainly isn't the Pro-Life crowd.
In Christ,
Julie @ Connecticut Catholic Corner
Video link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?t=268&v=-Eh8eunMK-k
A pregnant weather woman, Kristi Gordon, from Global News is receiving hate mail because she is pregnant.
Apparently, people are so offended by her "fat" pregnant belly and her maternity clothes that they are sending her hate mail, asking she get off the air until she is no longer "fat" because they find pregnant women to be repulsive.
No really.
What sort of person does this?
What sort of person sees a pregnant working mom on television, gets to repulsed with a woman carrying life within her, that they take the time to write and send a horrible letter insulting, bullying and degrading her?
Who does that?
It certainly isn't the Pro-Life crowd.
In Christ,
Julie @ Connecticut Catholic Corner
Video link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?t=268&v=-Eh8eunMK-k
Saturday, August 2, 2014
Two very different mothers
By Connecticut Catholic Corner
Today I read two stories of motherhood. The first story was about a mother
octopus. This mother octopus has stunned
the science world with her dedication to the survival of her unborn babies.
You see, the deep sea Graneledone boreopacifica species of octopus will
starve themselves for more than four years (they have a incredibly long brooding period) rather than leave her precious eggs for a moment.
She spends years, attached to the location she
has chosen as the perfect place to lay her eggs. Once the eggs are laid, she waits with them.
Protecting them from predators twenty four hours a day for more than four
years.
Quote: During the brooding period,
the mother octopus seemed to focus exclusively on the welfare of the eggs.
"She was protecting her eggs from
predators, and they are abundant. There are fish and crabs and all sorts of
critters that would love to get in there and eat those eggs. So she was pushing
them away when they approached her," Robison said.
"She was also keeping the eggs free
from sediment and was ventilating them by pushing water across them for oxygen
exchange. She was taking care of them," Robison added.-end quote-
Now I contrast that story
with the story of Jenny Kutner, one of the assistant editors over at Salon who
wrote this week “I am having an abortion this weekend”.
Kutner, who for a year had been using an IUD
to prevent her from having (not conceiving) a child found out she was pregnant. Without batting an eye, she
scheduled her abortion for today.
Saturday at 10 am.
Kutner felt no motherly
instincts at all for the human being in her womb. She felt no sense to protect that life within
her own body. She felt only for
herself. She didn’t want a child so she
would find someone to kill and remove the child from her womb.
Kutner writes: “If I still lived in Texas,
I would still have access to all those same means. So I’d face fewer
impediments to an abortion than most, but that doesn’t mean I’d face zero. I
would still have to have a sonogram, and I would have to hear about the
development of the zygote inside me.
As I waited to speak with a counselor at a
New York Planned Parenthood last weekend, I felt a wave of relief at the
thought of being so far from home. Really, it was relief at the thought of
being trusted to make my own decision, at being able to avoid having a probe
shoved inside me in an effort to make me question, regret or alter that choice.
There are no mandated ultrasounds in New York; no condescending scripts for the
doctors to read; no increasing shortage of clinics because of legal entrapments
that endanger women’s health. I thanked my lucky stars, for maybe the first
time in my life, that I was not in Texas.
Just as I did, a counselor called my name
and asked me to follow her down a hall to a small, carpeted room with a desk
and no windows. On the desk sat a plastic-encased model of a ParaGard IUD, the
little copper “T” with which I had entrusted my reproductive health for exactly
a year. I stared at it while the counselor confirmed that I was, indeed,
pregnant — about five weeks, judging by the start of my last period.
She then presented me with several
options. I told her I wanted to have an abortion. She did not tell me that I
would have to come back for another appointment before the abortion and she did
not try to talk me into another course of action. Instead, she asked when I
could come in for the procedure and put it on the calendar. Then she sent me on
my way.
I wasn’t sure what to feel after I made
the appointment, so I just stood still on the sidewalk for a few minutes and
cried. I cried because I was overwhelmed and confused, although I wasn’t at all
confused about my decision. What I felt most strongly when I left the clinic,
aside from the need to pull it together and go take a nap, were two feelings
that have stuck with me all week. The first was acute anxiety that seven days
was too long to let two incompatible objects (an IUD and a zygote) occupy my
uterus at the same time. The second was complete certainty that I was making
the right decision. I don’t want a child yet, and I’m not at all ready to have
one.
That’s why an abortion is the right choice
for me, and I don’t think much else matters. I keep repeating that and it’s not
because I’m insecure, but rather because I doubt I could be more firmly
convinced. Thankfully, in addition to feeling so strongly about my choice, I
have received all the support I could possibly ask for — from my boyfriend, who
is in complete agreement about my decision, but also from my sister and my
parents, my aunts, uncles, friends, co-workers and even two relative strangers
I met at a picnic on Sunday.”-end quote-
Kutner delights in the
fact that she no longer lives in Texas because she won’t have to “submit
to invasive transvaginal sonograms and patronizing explanations of fetal
development 24 hours before getting an abortion”.
The mother octopus on
the other hand is the exact opposite of Kutner and her ilk.
“This mother octopus
never left the oblong-shaped eggs - which during the brooding period grew from
about the size of a blueberry to the size of a grape - and was never seen
eating anything. The octopus progressively lost weight and its skin became pale
and loose. The researchers monitored the octopus during 18 dives over 53 months
from May 2007 to September 2011.”
I was struck by the sharp contrast between the two mothers. One willing to do anything to protect her offspring, the other willing to pay someone to kill her offspring.
Reading the two stories today literally back to back, my mind was just boggled and incredibly saddened that a woman could be so callous and not for a moment, not one split second think of the child in her womb. She only thought of herself. By contrast the octopus mother never thought of herself, her complete focus was on her offspring and nothing else to the extent of starving herself for years.
Bruce Robison, a deep sea ecologist at the Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute in Moss Landing, California, said this species exhibits an extremely powerful maternal instinct."It's extraordinary. It's amazing. We're still astonished ourselves by what we saw," Robison said.
From the time Kutner
found out the child was growing in her womb to the scheduled murder of her
child was less than one week. Zero maternal instincts in Kutner.
The mother octopus spent
four and half years starving herself for the well being and protection of her
offspring.
It is now Saturday night…Kutner’s child is dead.
I wonder how she feels now.
I hope for her sake she feels remorse and sorrow for killing her
child. I hope she begs God to forgive her
for the heinous crime she has committed.
May God have mercy on her as Heaven takes in her aborted
child.
In Christ,
Julie @ Connecticut Catholic Corner
PLEASE read both articles:
Jenny Kutner’s abortion story: http://www.salon.com/2014/08/01/im_having_an_abortion_this_weekend/
Friday, March 21, 2014
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Baby Nevernamed
Many people call me an “unborn child”, I prefer "pre-born child". I’m a person. A person in the earliest stages of growth and development. It was never a question as to whether or not I am human or if I’d leave the womb.
The question was only... when? What would my birthday be? At this point, they call it my Mommy's "due date", but for me, it's when will my birthday be? Or rather, when would my birthday be... if I was going to have one.
I’m an eight week old pre-born child. I’ve done a lot of growing in my eight weeks of life in my Mommy's womb. I’m an inch long and weigh 0.1 oz. and my heart is beating about 150 beats a minute, that’s faster than my Mommy’s heart beats.
All my major organs are formed, even my muscles are growing so I can be big and strong one day. I have two eyes that I can move, a nose and a mouth full of taste buds! I even have all my tooth buds for my first teeth. I have all my tiny fingers and all ten tiny toes and they wiggle. I can move! Sometimes, if I can catch it, I suck my thumb - I really like that. Once I even had the hiccups! There is so much I have to look forward to, each day is another step forward for me and full of new and exciting things. So much potential in my future- if I had a future.
Soon I won’t ever have the hiccups again. And I only have a little while left to suck my thumb, yawn, wiggle my toes and stretch my tiny arms. I’ll never use my taste buds or my baby teeth. I'll never know a grandma or grandpa or brother or sister or cousin. I won’t ever see light or hear my Mommy’s voice outside the womb. I'll never feel a kiss on my forehead or arms hugging me. I'll never see a smile or give a smile back.
I’ll never even be named.
Someone told my Mommy she could pay someone to kill me. They told her she has a ‘right’ and a ‘choice’ to make sure I never get born. Nobody gave me my ‘rights’ or my ‘choice’. No one will give me the future I am supposed to have. My entire life span takes place in the warm nourishing womb of my mother who is even now planning to pay someone to kill me.
No life outside the womb. No rights to my future and nobody to even gave me a name.
Please help me and all the other pre-born human beings who want their ‘right’ to life. The right to see the sky, taste food, breath air and the right to have a birthday and a name. I can’t talk yet, so I need others to speak for me and my rights to life. Please support a Pro-Life group today and let everyone know that I have a Right to Life and I want a name.
Thank you for taking a moment out of your life to think of the life of a pre-born human being.
In memory of,
all the babies never named...
Please pray for an end to ALL abortion and support the Right to Life!
In Christ,
Julie @ Connecticut Catholic Corner
**I originally shared this post in 2008.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Abortion Stops Beating Hearts
What does it mean for a person to be "Pro-choice"? To be "pro-choice" means you support the legal right to kill pre-born human beings. That's it. Being Pro-life means you support the right of all human beings to be born as God intended them to be. From natural conception to natural death. Now some "pro-choice" people have put themselves in differing categories. There are the pro-choicers who believe in absolutely no restrictions to abortions. That is a girl any age can abort her child at any point during the pregnancy as it's "her body to do with as she pleases" and no one can stop her and her parents have no rights to know their own child has undergone surgery or taken pills to induce an abortion. I believe this is a small part of the pro-choice movement. Other's say abortion should be legal if the parents cannot afford the child or the timing interferes with their careers and lifestyles. Another group of pro-choicers believe that it's only OK to kill the preborn if they are deformed or disabled in any way, not perfect.
Sound like eugenics? What is eugenics? According to the American Heritage Dictionary, it is "The study of hereditary improvement of the human race by controlled selective breeding." Sound a bit like Adolph Hitler? Planned Parenthood's cofounder Margaret Sanger (who took over for Mary Ware Dennett who founded The National Birth Control League) dreamed of a pure human race in America. Actually she did more than just dream of a pure human race, she worked hard to see that those she considered without value (namely African Americans, those born to poor parents and those with disabilities) would not be born. Sanger's plan was two fold, she wanted those she decreed "undesirable" to be aborted and to prevent any possibility of further such humans, she wanted the parents to be made sterile.
Sanger and Hitler had much in common with their eugenic theology, though Sanger drew the line at gassing the already born "unfit" as she called them.
In 1926, Sanger said: "It now remains for the U.S. government to set a sensible example to the world by offering a bonus or yearly pension to all obviously unfit parents who allow themselves to be sterilized by harmless and scientific means. In this way the moron and the diseased would have no posterity to inherit their unhappy condition. The number of the feeble-minded would decrease and a heavy burden would be lifted from the shoulders of the fit."
As some point out, it's not legally "murder" by our current laws, but by the definition of 'murder: to take an innocent life' it is murder. And of course to God it's murder. He knows us in the womb from the moment of our conception and if a "mother" pays someone to kill children in the womb God isn't fooled into believing that is anything but murder with a price tag. That's what abortion is. Paying someone to kill the child in the womb to make sure that human being never knows life outside the womb. Are my words harsh? Yes. I know it, but abortion is a cold hard calculated industry. Let's call it what it is and not sugar coat it so it's easier for us to live with. Abortion stops a beating heart. Period.
Even Margaret Sanger admitted that pre-born human's were alive and that abortion was murdering them. She never denied it, and though she supported birth control first and foremost, she also advocated it was a woman's right to do what she wanted with her own body-including killing another human being. In 1916 Sanger wrote: "no one can doubt that there are times when an abortion is justifiable,". She also said: "To each group we explained what contraception was; that abortion was the wrong way—no matter how early it was performed it was taking life; that contraception was the better way, the safer way—it took a little time, a little trouble, but was well worth while in the long run, because life had not yet begun."
Today's Pro-choicers don't like to admit that abortion is "taking life" as Ms. Sanger admits. Instead they have come up with new propaganda so the squeamish won't feel so bad about supporting the Pro-choice movement. They have decided it's not a true human being until it's "viable". Well, just what is it then before it becomes "viable"? If it's not a baby, then women are not really pregnant! When a woman is pregnant there is no doubt she is pregnant WITH A CHILD. Hence the term "with child" for pregnancy. At the moment of conception, that child IS a human being. It's in the earliest form, but still a human being. The American Heritage Stedman's Dictionary describes "viable" as: "Capable of living, developing, or germinating under favorable conditions." Well, almost all pregnancies fall under that category, regardless of what trimester the pregnancy is in. Human beings need different things at different stages in their lives and development. To decide that one stage of a human life is an acceptable stage to kill a human being is wrong. Whether it be abortion for the pre-born or euthanasia for the elderly and disabled. It's just wrong and even Sanger publicly admitted it was wrong. People who are pro-choice are supporting the legal right to wrongly take an innocent human life. That's murder, whether legalized by our current laws or not, it's still murder.
What choice does God tell us to make? Let's see what God says in scripture:“... I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life, that both you and your descendants may live.” —Deuteronomy 30:19
Sound like eugenics? What is eugenics? According to the American Heritage Dictionary, it is "The study of hereditary improvement of the human race by controlled selective breeding." Sound a bit like Adolph Hitler? Planned Parenthood's cofounder Margaret Sanger (who took over for Mary Ware Dennett who founded The National Birth Control League) dreamed of a pure human race in America. Actually she did more than just dream of a pure human race, she worked hard to see that those she considered without value (namely African Americans, those born to poor parents and those with disabilities) would not be born. Sanger's plan was two fold, she wanted those she decreed "undesirable" to be aborted and to prevent any possibility of further such humans, she wanted the parents to be made sterile.
Sanger and Hitler had much in common with their eugenic theology, though Sanger drew the line at gassing the already born "unfit" as she called them.
In 1926, Sanger said: "It now remains for the U.S. government to set a sensible example to the world by offering a bonus or yearly pension to all obviously unfit parents who allow themselves to be sterilized by harmless and scientific means. In this way the moron and the diseased would have no posterity to inherit their unhappy condition. The number of the feeble-minded would decrease and a heavy burden would be lifted from the shoulders of the fit."
As some point out, it's not legally "murder" by our current laws, but by the definition of 'murder: to take an innocent life' it is murder. And of course to God it's murder. He knows us in the womb from the moment of our conception and if a "mother" pays someone to kill children in the womb God isn't fooled into believing that is anything but murder with a price tag. That's what abortion is. Paying someone to kill the child in the womb to make sure that human being never knows life outside the womb. Are my words harsh? Yes. I know it, but abortion is a cold hard calculated industry. Let's call it what it is and not sugar coat it so it's easier for us to live with. Abortion stops a beating heart. Period.
Even Margaret Sanger admitted that pre-born human's were alive and that abortion was murdering them. She never denied it, and though she supported birth control first and foremost, she also advocated it was a woman's right to do what she wanted with her own body-including killing another human being. In 1916 Sanger wrote: "no one can doubt that there are times when an abortion is justifiable,". She also said: "To each group we explained what contraception was; that abortion was the wrong way—no matter how early it was performed it was taking life; that contraception was the better way, the safer way—it took a little time, a little trouble, but was well worth while in the long run, because life had not yet begun."
Today's Pro-choicers don't like to admit that abortion is "taking life" as Ms. Sanger admits. Instead they have come up with new propaganda so the squeamish won't feel so bad about supporting the Pro-choice movement. They have decided it's not a true human being until it's "viable". Well, just what is it then before it becomes "viable"? If it's not a baby, then women are not really pregnant! When a woman is pregnant there is no doubt she is pregnant WITH A CHILD. Hence the term "with child" for pregnancy. At the moment of conception, that child IS a human being. It's in the earliest form, but still a human being. The American Heritage Stedman's Dictionary describes "viable" as: "Capable of living, developing, or germinating under favorable conditions." Well, almost all pregnancies fall under that category, regardless of what trimester the pregnancy is in. Human beings need different things at different stages in their lives and development. To decide that one stage of a human life is an acceptable stage to kill a human being is wrong. Whether it be abortion for the pre-born or euthanasia for the elderly and disabled. It's just wrong and even Sanger publicly admitted it was wrong. People who are pro-choice are supporting the legal right to wrongly take an innocent human life. That's murder, whether legalized by our current laws or not, it's still murder.
What choice does God tell us to make? Let's see what God says in scripture:“... I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life, that both you and your descendants may live.” —Deuteronomy 30:19
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Baby Nevernamed
I’m baby Nevernamed. Many people call me an “unborn child”, I prefer "pre-born child". I’m a person. A person in the earliest stages of growth and development. It was never a question as to whether or not I’d leave the womb. The question was, when?
I’m an eight week old pre-born child. I’ve done a lot of growing in my eight weeks of life in the womb. I’m an inch long and weigh 0.1 oz. and my heart is beating about 150 beats a minute, that’s faster than my Mommy’s heart beats. All my major organs are formed, even my muscles are growing so I can be big and strong one day. I have two eyes I can move, a nose and a mouth full of taste buds! I even have all my tooth buds for my first teeth. I have all my tiny fingers and all ten tiny toes and they wiggle. I can move! Sometimes, if I can catch it, I suck my thumb. Once I even had the hiccups! There is so much I have to look forward to, each day is another step forward for me and full of new and exciting things. So much potential in my future- if I had a future.
I won’t ever have the hiccups again. And I only have a little while left to suck my thumb, wiggle my toes and stretch my arms. I’ll never use my taste buds or my baby teeth. I won’t see light or hear my Mommy’s voice. I’ll never be named. Someone told my Mommy she could kill me. They told her she has a ‘right’ and a ‘choice’ to make sure I never get born. Nobody gave me my ‘rights’ or my ‘choice’. Nobody even gave me a name.
Please help me and all the other pre-born human beings who want their ‘right’ to life. The right to see light, taste food, breath air and the right to have a birthday and a name. I can’t talk yet, so I need others to speak for me and my rights to life. Please support a Pro-Life group today and let everyone know that I have a Right to Life and I want a name.
Thank you for taking a moment out of your life to think of the life of a pre-born human being.
I’m an eight week old pre-born child. I’ve done a lot of growing in my eight weeks of life in the womb. I’m an inch long and weigh 0.1 oz. and my heart is beating about 150 beats a minute, that’s faster than my Mommy’s heart beats. All my major organs are formed, even my muscles are growing so I can be big and strong one day. I have two eyes I can move, a nose and a mouth full of taste buds! I even have all my tooth buds for my first teeth. I have all my tiny fingers and all ten tiny toes and they wiggle. I can move! Sometimes, if I can catch it, I suck my thumb. Once I even had the hiccups! There is so much I have to look forward to, each day is another step forward for me and full of new and exciting things. So much potential in my future- if I had a future.
I won’t ever have the hiccups again. And I only have a little while left to suck my thumb, wiggle my toes and stretch my arms. I’ll never use my taste buds or my baby teeth. I won’t see light or hear my Mommy’s voice. I’ll never be named. Someone told my Mommy she could kill me. They told her she has a ‘right’ and a ‘choice’ to make sure I never get born. Nobody gave me my ‘rights’ or my ‘choice’. Nobody even gave me a name.
Please help me and all the other pre-born human beings who want their ‘right’ to life. The right to see light, taste food, breath air and the right to have a birthday and a name. I can’t talk yet, so I need others to speak for me and my rights to life. Please support a Pro-Life group today and let everyone know that I have a Right to Life and I want a name.
Thank you for taking a moment out of your life to think of the life of a pre-born human being.
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