The Hypocrisy of Parenting

There are some parents that teach their children the value of life.  Well, the value of some lives.

A child grows up learning to care for baby animals.  They learn how to raise them.  They learn compassion for living things.  They learn to respect nature's life. They learn if an animal is pregnant the offspring should be cared for and looked after.

This same child also learns a second lesson from the same parent.  What's that, you ask?  It's the lesson that baby animals should be saved but the child's own child must be killed.  Why such hypocrisy? Convenience.  Yep, how's that for a reason.

The parent that  taught the child to value animals lives and their babies, is now teaching a lesson that human babies should be murdered if the 'timing' isn't right and it will be inconvenience.  Remind you that the inconvenience is perceived by the parent and not the child with the child.

Strange lessons that some parents believe are righteous and correct.

Teaching anyone to accept murder is a crime.  It's wrong and these accessories to murder and the planners of murder should be jailed for all eternity.

No forgiveness, not from me.  EVER!

Things Told = More Heart Scars

On a pretty regular basis I have old memories pop in to my head.  Usually conversations will come back to mind.  They are never pleasant and always make fresh cuts into my heart.

This was a conversation about my brother and his first wife.  Maybe his first wife was a mistake.  I don't know.  I never knew her because I ran from home as soon as I knew I could not be brought back by the police.  I had to get away from the murderer.

Anyway,  many years later mother was telling me HER version of the marriage.  I'll skip all the nasty, judgmental stuff and get to the real hurt.  My brother's wife had an ectopic pregnancy.  According to mother, she was thrilled because, as she said, that made sure there were no kids involved.  Seems like an typical non-thinking statement.  But, it cut me to the core.  Why?

It was the statement itself.  She was happy no kids were involved so she believed that if it were a normal pregnancy she would have allowed the child to see life.  Even though she hated this woman and wanted my brother out of the marriage, she, with her own words, told me that her pregnancy would not have been terminated.

Sadly, I'm not surprised.  You see.  this woman was NOT part of our family and was never accepted.  So, what she did was not a reflection on mother and her family.  You see, what the family did was a reflection on her and that's all she cared about.  That's why my child was murdered.  It would have looked bad for the family.  My brother's first wife, was not family and would have been blessed with a child if that were to be.

My mother is so motivated by image it's sickening.  Commiting murder to maintain image is sick, disgusting and beyond forgivable.

What Should Be A Mother's Day

I wish I could sort out my feelings and put them down on paper.  But, I just can't.  My mind and heart is a jumble of hurt, betrayal and deep sadness.

Mother's Day cuts me like a knife.  The hatred I have for my own mother and sense of complete loss for my own motherhood.  It's so hard to deal with this day, I just can't begin to explain it.

My own mother stole my chances at motherhood.  Why?  Because it was convenient for her and her image.  No thought for my child, or myself. My future was forever altered by someone who was allowed to become a mother.  She is a selfish person that I am obligated to wish a happy Mother's Day.

My heart breaks every day and ten times more on Mother's Day.

Mother Turns 80

Last night, my brother called me.  First off, let me be clear.  I have two brothers.  I am the oldest.  The middle child is the brother that called.  He's  the best one in the family.  The baby brother is mother's 'fair haired prince' and, according to him, I am a horrible person.  But, that's another story. As far as I'm concerned, he and his 'golden' family can just stay arms distance away from me.

Anyway, Mike called to let me know that the baby brother wanted to have a big birthday bash for my mother.  She turns 80, this year.  He wants us to all get together and celebrate her life.  That would include all of her kids and her 'chosen' grand kids.

OMG, why would I want to celebrate the life of a child killer?  If I did go, I would be forced to be pleasant and I would be pushed to engage with her 'golden grand kids.'  If I did not, I would be told to 'stop being ridiculous' and other such choice things.

I cannot allow my heart to be scarred even more than what it is. I will not celebrate the life of a woman who does not value life, at all.  To kill an innocent because of self-perceived 'family shame' and other such nonsense is beyond my comprehension.  She chose to ruin my life, forever, and kill an innocent child, rather than let people know I had a child . . . a son.

I will never forgive her and do not want anyone telling me to do so. I've heard it all. "She's your mother, you have to forgive her."  No I don't.

I pray my brothers do not ask me again, about this 'party'.  It just brings everything back to the forefront and I struggle enough without having to deal with this.

Read more at Abort73.com

Existence Lost in the Wind

Writing this post, brings tears to my eyes.

Imagine, if you will, what it would be like if no one knew you ever existed.  If no one knew you ever had a heart beat.  If no one knew that you had been viciously murdered and all records unattainable.

Would anyone even believe you existed?  How would you prove your existence?  How would you make sure your memory was part of the history of humanity.

I wanted nothing more than to make my son's memory real.  As soon as I discovered that a Fetal Death Certificate was created when he was murdered, I knew I had to find a copy. But, I knew the risks.  Below is a link that tells you everything that the State of New York told me and a snippet of the most important part.

Information about Fetal Death Certificates in New York

Since one certificate was used, when the Fetal Death was due to an induced death much of what is listed above is blank.  The certificate does not contain any information regarding consent.  Often with induced Fetal Deaths physicians filled out very little of this form.  Often when someone requests a copy we cannot find one because the physician did not complete any of the identifying information.

I filled out the necessary form and hoped against the odds.  I waited several weeks, but never lost hope.  Then it came.  'Record Not Found.'  I just cried.

To know that my son's memory will only live based on what I say.  Having the official record would prove his existence and prove what a beast his grandmother truly was.

But now, I don't have that proof and if I shared my story with other family members I would not have the proof that some would require.  Yes, that's how some of my family responds to things they don't want to believe.  So, without proof, to them I would be a liar and they would have no reason to believe horrible things about their own mother or grandmother.

It hurts my heart that my son will never be remembered as being a human being that deserved to live.  Not even a piece of paper was sufficiently filled out to show that he was here and he is still loved.

The Doctor that failed to provide any identifying information has made it impossible for me to find my son's record.  I damn his soul for what he did and then what he didn't think was important enough to do.

I am just heart sick over these three little words.

Record Not Found 

Things Still Missing

As I read back through my story I realize that there are several things I am still keeping inside myself.

Things that happened, things I've done and things still going on that are caused by the trauma of this horror.  I have done a lot in attempts to make up for what happened.  I've done things to try and fill the hole in my heart.  I've done things to try and replace the love I lost.

You know what?  None of it worked.  It just got me in to trouble and nothing more.

I will work on sharing more information about me trying to compensate and recover from this horror.  Sadly, I've yet to recover so it will be a never ending journey.

Happy Birth Month

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day.  It's also the day I have assigned to be my son's birthday.  If his grandmother hadn't forced his murder, he would have been born in February 1973.

A long time ago, I assigned Valentine's Day as his birthday.  No one knows this and no one knows what my heart goes through on that day.  This post is the first time I have spoken of this or shared the bracelet I bought, quite a few years ago.

Valentine's Day and this memory bracelet are all I have of my son.  My heart is consumed with the loss.  I don't know how to explain the depths of the damage that abortion does to women.

On this day and everyday, I honor my son and hold his memory close.

Happy Birth Month, my son.

Love and Support

Yesterday, I received an email from mother.  It was just about her sending me a Valentine's Day card.  She does this every year and I just throw them in the trash.  Like I've said before, I have no room in my heart to forgive her, love her or even hold a conversation with her.

What I found interesting is this line, in her email.

"Regardless wanted to send my love and support." 

Hmm, love and support?  She doesn't really mean it.  For the past 40 years she has yet to apologize for the murder of my son. In fact, she won't even acknowledge that the murder took place.

Now, I have some health issues and she tells me I don't.  I have hearing loss and she informed me that I hear just fine.  Then I always get the 'don't be ridiculous' line.  So, how in the Hell can she send her 'love and support.'  She's a lying piece of crap.

She also likes to say she keeps people in their prayers.  That's a lie.  I don't believe the woman knows what a heartfelt prayer really is.  Maybe I'm wrong, but I  doubt it.

One day, she will die and I WILL be free. Sadly, my son was never given the chance to know what being free was all about.

Dear Mom, this could have been your grandson. You murdered an innocent and for that, there is no forgiveness.

Tears of Loss

Last night I cried until I couldn't cry any more.  I never realized how horrible PTSD could really become, the older I get.

But, the sense of loss and grief just continue to grow and grow.  I have lost so much and as I grow older I just can't contain the loss.

I should be a grandmother.  I should have someone to hold my hand when I am afraid of growing old.  I should have someone to lean on when I get bad news from the doctor.  I should have a family.

My mother has one.  But, she denied me the chance of ever having my own.

I  cry for my loss.  I cry for my son. There is no consoling my heart.  The loss is too tremendous and I've needed my son in my life, but my mother refused to allow him to exist.

Oh mother, dear mother.  I hate you, and I have no forgiveness for you.  I pretended, for so long, to agree with you to put up with you and support you in whatever you did. I took your crap.  I allowed you to make fun of me and make me the butt of your jokes.  I tried to be a good daughter and hid my pain, grief and loss.  But, no more.  You are an evil person.  You can kill your own grandchild because, as you said it, he would not have a name.  How could you?  How could you?  How can one person be so evil.

Mother, when you die I will finally be free of you.  I will not attend your funeral because the only thing I would have to say is that you murdered my child.  I will not shed a tear over your death.  I will be free.  The chains you put on me will be gone.

But, today and every day, I grieve, I cry, I hurt to the core of my soul.  My son,  I need you.

Unending Pain and Loss

You may wonder why I write this after so many years.  Well, it's hard and I'll do my best to convey what horrors abortion puts a woman through. Especially when it was done against her will and any future family was lost on that day.

Mother's forced action on murdering my child is just too hateful to wrap my head around.  This is the same mother that when I was just 15, I was given the choice of having knee surgery or not.  Mother said the decision was up to me and she would stand by whatever I decided.

But, two years later, in a much more important decision, she decided I would have no say in the decision to murder my child.  My child was ripped from me, with no consideration of my feelings.  I was able to save my knee from surgery, but I couldn't save my child from murder.

Anyway, back to the effects of having your child ripped from your body and sucked in to a container that would become medical waste certified with an 'induced death' certificate.  That's the truth.  The Left Wing whack jobs say a fetus is not a baby, but yet NY law required a death certificate for induced death.  Hmmm, that proves the baby was, indeed, alive.

So, back to today.  Why do I still have trouble with such an old decision?  It's simple.  I relive it every day.  I am dead serious.  Every single day of my life I relive this horror. Sometimes more than once a day. Yes, PTSD is real and having my child murdered was enough to push me over the edge.  It never leaves me and as I get older the effects of that day are getting stronger. I can be reduced to tears, in mere seconds, because of my memories.

Because of this horror, I am alone.  I have no one in my life that is part of a family that I should have been able to make.  Even now, I cry for my loss and my child's loss at not even being given a chance at life.

Being alone and knowing that I have no one to be with me as I grow old is frightening and it just makes dealing with my loss even harder.

I have lost everything that ever could have meant something in life.  I had a life ahead of me.  This horror affected me so deeply and permanently that I lost my life, that day.  I died with my child.

I cannot stress enough how much damage this horror does to a woman.  They may never admit it.  I hid it for years and years. I suffered in silence, but the suffering continued to grow and grow.  My family can do nothing for me because, in the words of my mother, I'm just being ridiculous and to get over it.  I cannot and will not surround myself with people who think murder is OK.

I am damaged goods and will die an empty shell of what should have been a life with my child and family.  But, it's not.  I will die alone.  There is no one in my life that I can be close to.  I am unable to share love with anyone.  I just can't.

Like I've said before, The day my child was ripped from me, I died with him.  Yes, I knew the sex. The 'Doctor' told me it was a boy.  My dead son is with me daily.  I cry for him and I cry for myself.

The Aftermath

I am finding this entry to be very difficult.  To really explain what was going, during the days to follow, I have to get more descriptive than I would like to.  It just tears my heart out.

From this time forward, my mother what shut out of my heart.  She would never know what I was going through.

One of the things I was told to watch for was excessive discharge.  I was told it should be like a normal period.  They didn't really tell the truth.  The 'discharge' was not like a period.  It was complete with yellow tissue and other pieces of God only knows.  It was a horror to see.

Another thing was the cramps.  I was told it would be mild.  God, they are such liars.  But, in hind sight, I would say I had a harder time because it was botched.

Then I started bleeding quite heavily.  I was scared.  No one knew, but me.  I contacted the person at the number I was given.  I was told I was OK and that happens sometimes and I was further along than most.  What did that mean?  I was too numb to ask.

Fast forward several days.  My experience with mild hemorrhaging was coming to an end.  I felt weak, sick and a hollow shell of the young person I used to be.

Mother has no idea what happened to me and how much damage was done to me.

With the ordeal behind me and my 18th birthday right around the corner, I headed out on a date.  That's when I realized I could never have a normal relationship again.  It was going well but when my date put his arm around me I shriveled up inside.  I was terrified that if I ever had a relationship with a man, my mother would kill any child that I might have been fortunate enough to have.  So, I just shrunk within myself and waited until I could move out.

18th birthday rolled around and I moved out with a girlfriend.  I lived in a dump and worked very hard to just pay my bills.  I never called my mother.  In fact, I did not call her for over a decade.  When I finally did, she told me that she just assumed I was dead somewhere.  Wow, she's piece of work.  Life is all about her and not me - her teenaged mistake.

By now, I had found out that I would never be able to have children any way.  I was full of scar tissue and it never would have happened.  The botched abortion caused all of this damage and ended up in a hysterectomy.  Everyone thinks I had a hysterectomy because of fibroid tumors.  This is the first time I have shared the truth.  Yes, the abortion caused so much damage I had to have a hysterectomy. This is not something that someone in their 20s should have to go through.

That brings me to another memory.  When I found out I had to have surgery, even after a second opinion, I did contact mother.  But, I waited until after the surgery.  I was still in the hospital.  She could have cared less.  She said, are you OK?  Yes, I was OK.  That's all she wanted to know.  I told her that most people send flowers or something when someone goes through surgery.  Yeah, I had to tell her.  She said she 'guessed' she could that.  So, she sent flowers, they were silk, and I gave them to my Doctor for her waiting room.  I just wanted to push the issue with mother to make sure she knew that I knew just how little she cared.

It was another decade before I contacted her again.  This time, my brother was married and about to have their first child.  Now, mother tells me, to my face - 'I didn't think I would ever be a grandmother.'  I bit my tongue in half to keep from telling her that she shouldn't have killed her first one.

She has said and done things to/about me that would cause anyone to lose all self-esteem.  But, the murder of my child was the ultimate of selfishness.

Thank you mother, for completely destroying my life and my child and any opportunity of having a family.  God how I hate her.  She is the most uncaring, selfish witch to walk the earth.

Procedure AKA Murder

I am still not at a point where I can describe, in detail, the actual procedure.  But, I will do my best.

This part of the day was the most horrifying and changed my entire life and being, forever.

I was placed on a table and strapped to stirrups.  The nurse was there busying herself with the equipment.  I asked her if she would hold my hand.  She told me to hold on to the edge of the table and it would be over in a minute. I was so alone and so terrified.

The equipment was ominous looking and I was not given anything to help with the fear, anxiety and horror. I was wide awake.

The Doctor came in and started setting up.  He never said a word to me.  Then it started.  He said I would feel a little pressure.  Huge lie.  The pain started and all I could do was grip the table and cry my eyes out.  Not the Doctor or the nurse said a word.  No comfort, no reassurance, no nothing.  I was being ripped apart and they did not care.

The sounds were more than anyone should have to bear. I can't even describe the horror of those sounds.  But yet, I can still hear them as if it were happening all over again.

When it was all done the Doctor slapped my stomach and said 'you're not pregnant anymore.' and walked out of the room.  I was numb.

This is what abortion looks like http://www.abortioninstruments.com/  This is what my own mother forced me to do to my own child.  I hate her forever.  There is no forgiveness in my heart for her.  Forgiving her is beyond my capabilities.  I will forever hate her for doing this.

But, what can you expect from someone who can trap sparrows, to keep them out of her purple martin houses, and put them next to the exhaust pipe of a running car.  Yeah, that's how cruel she can be.  If it interferes with what SHE wants then she gets rid of it, no matter the means.

The nurse gave me some reading material and some sanitary pads.  She told me to get dressed and go to the next room to 'recover'.  Recovery lasted about 30 minutes

Next up was a forced group meeting about birth control and aftercare.

The meeting was horrible.  It was like sitting at the 'cool girls' table in school.  They were all laughing and just yucking it up.  I was feeling separated from my body.  It was too surreal for me to handle.  It was like I split in to two entities.  One that sat and listened to the lecture and the other that retreated in to the darkness.

I just wanted this to be over.  I wanted to be alone to cry until I couldn't cry any more.

Day over and we flew home the same day.

Arrangements and Arrival

It didn't take mother any time at all to make the arrangements.  We were booked on a flight and off to New York before any rational thought was allowed to prevail.

I can't begin to explain my emotional state, at this time.  It was like I was numb, beat down and I had surrendered. I had no thoughts.  I was terrified but could not show my feelings.  Actually, from that moment on I kept my fears and what followed to myself.

My mother thought that my child was such a shameful thing that she refused me to contact my grandfather who lived in NY.  I was told this was not a pleasure trip. In fact, no concern was given to the after effects as we were booked on a flight out on the SAME day as the murder.

We arrived at the clinic and I could have just cried but I didn't let it show.  I would not let this monster mother know what she was doing to me, my child and my life.  She was determined to do this and it didn't matter what anyone else wanted or even felt.  She was cold-hearted and just mean.

I took too long to approach the desk and she pushed me along and checked me in. She was hateful and told me to just go sit down.

I did and all I remember was the atmosphere.  People laughing and talking in the very brightly lit waiting room.  They were acting as if they were in a restaurant bar, waiting for a table to open up.  It was horrible.  I just stared out the window; a view I will never forget. Another thing that I will never forget was the song 'Mr. Bonjangles.'  It had been tops in the chart and this song must have played half a dozen times.  To this day, I can't listen to that song, without being transported back to the day of the murder.

I sat in silence and waited.  Finally I was called back.  I went alone.  My own mother would not be there.  In a way I was glad she wasn't there.  In another way how could a mother sit there and allow her only daughter to go through such a horrible ordeal ALONE.

I hate her with such a deep hate.  Any love I had for her had died. I would never love her again and I would never forgive her --EVER!

As the door closed behind me I knew this was the end of everything I had ahead of me.  My life was over, as I knew it.

I was dying while mother sat in the waiting room reading a magazine.

Pause Before The Second Phase

I am not quite ready to write about the next phase in mother's murder plan.  This is rough and I need to garner a bit more strength.

I hope to continue sharing this horror, in a few days.

Please be patient.

Mother's Plan - Setting The Stage and Making Demands

Mother whirled in to action and before I knew it I was packed off to a local doctor.  I couldn't even see our family doctor. I was sent to see a complete stranger.  Having a child was a shameful thing for the family.  At least in my mother's eyes.

The visit was horrible. She could have at least let me see a woman doctor. But NO!  Up until then, I had never been to gynecologist, so this was a first and with a perfect stranger.  It was so horrible.  At this point I began to become afraid.  I did not know what mother was going to do next.  So, I kept my feelings and fears to myself.

The results came back positive and as soon as she found out, she stopped in the living room.  Standing up, she informed me of the results and informed me that I would be getting rid of it.  She couldn't even sit down to have adult discussion.  She dictated and scared the life out of me.  But, I did muster up the courage to say to her 'Wait a minute'.  Really, I needed to absorb what she was saying and be allowed to share my feelings.

Her response to my statement was --  Wait for what? You are going to get rid of it.  I asked 'why?'.  Her response, and I quote, " I am not going to raise it and it won't have a name.'  That is what she said.  No discussion, no thought of me and what I felt or wanted. I was so close to being 18 and here I was stuck and being frightened  in to submission by a mother that I never realized was such a monster.  What else could she be if her first response is to murder her own grandchild.

Next up was mother's husband.  Legally, my father. But, in reality it was her second husband.  Anyway, he tracked down and set up a meeting with Michael.  To this day, I do not know what happened. But, I do know it had to have been awful.  Michael ran away as fast as he could and joined the Marines earlier than he had planned. Mother's husband, most likely, was browbeat by my mother.  I believe if she had left him alone and allowed him to act on his own conscience, he and I could have sat down and had a decent discussion.   But, the monster mother would not hear of that.  She took over and ran the show and made sure I stayed in line and in fear of her.

I threatened to run and she threatened me with police action.  Yes, the police could have forced me back home, until I reached my 18th birthday.  She was determined to kill my child.

Aftermath

In the days and weeks to follow, Michael and I did see each other.  It didn't take long for me to realize I might be pregnant.  I immediately told Michael.  He, like most teenagers, went in to a slight tail spin.  He wanted to know how I knew. I told him.  We didn't discuss about what to do.  But the notion of marriage was discussed and I thought it might be OK but really neither one of us were ready for that.  Besides, we weren't a very good match. One thing that was never discussed was abortion.  It was not part of our vocabulary and not something either of us entertained.

Michael and I still saw each other on and off.  A couple of months went by and I hadn't told anyone but Michael.  I knew I couldn't tell my parents. Why?  I was a product of my own Mother's New Year's indiscretion and if she could have aborted me she would have.  She married my father but they divorced and she blames everything on him.  Of course, I grew up to look like him.  Needless to say I was just the bad seed that she was stuck with.  So, I kept quiet.

I had to keep quiet until I turned 18.  Once 18 I could leave and there would be nothing she could do.  But, that didn't happen.  I was so close.  I was within a couple months of my 18th birthday.

One day, mother was making dinner and I came in the kitchen.  I asked her if there was anything I could eat.  She said no because dinner was almost ready.  But, I HAD to eat something.  It didn't matter what.  So, I opened a can of peas and ate it.  It was delicious.  However, I, almost immediately, threw it up.  Yeah, that's what gave me away.

Right then, mother asked if I was pregnant.  I still did not want her to know so I just told her 'I don't know.'  Well that sent her in to a major melt down.

The cat was out of the bag and mother has now taken over and put the ball of destruction in motion.

The Day That Changed My World

I thought I would be ready to start going through the whole timeline of what happened.  I'm still going to do it.  But, I've been hesitating all morning.  I don't know why, but I'm having a very hard time with the actual telling of the events.

But, here goes.

My boyfriend, at the time, was my first boy friend.  He was very special to me since I had left the area I grew up in and was now in a high school where I did not know anyone.  I was slow to make friends and was not popular.  So, when Michael came around I was very happy.  I needed to feel like someone cared.

We were together for a good while and eventually went to the Senior Prom.  It was all quite nice.  Michael was going to enlist in the Marines, after graduation and I was very worried  about what would happen.  He assured me it would be OK and to show me he meant it, he told me he would give me his GTO to have and use until he came home. That was a big deal.  His car, was his love.

Fast forward ahead.  One spring day,in May 1972, we ended up checking in to the Eden Roc Hotel for the day.  We were just kicked back, on the bed, watching TV and enjoying the ocean view.  We laid on the bed together and just talked.  I asked him if he still had that condom in his car.  He said he did and he was out the door in a flash.

Needless to say, we were both clumsy and unprepared.  But, it was a start.  Sadly, neither of us thought about a condom being kept in a car for a very long time, in S. Florida.  Yes, it broke.  The heat got to it.

When we realized what happened he asked me if there was something we could do.  Of course we had no idea.  But, neither of us were freaking out.  So, we talked some more, showers were taken, and we checked out.

He took me to dinner and then drove me home.  Kisses were given and the night ended.

Eden Roc -- Conception In Miami Beach

Before the New Year begins I wanted to set the stage.  In 1972 it all started right here.  Here, in the Eden Roc Hotel in Miami Beach - May 1972.

As the new year begins I will go through my journey of horrors, from beginning to end.  I pray my story will help stop the murder.  Even if a single murder is stopped, it will be 2 lives saved.

Below are photos of the Eden Roc taken during this time in history.  Some of the photos are bit prior to 1972, but the appearance of the hotel is the same.  It was hard to find old pictures because this old hotel was renovated and it just wasn't the same any more.

Trauma Induced PTSD

I never paid much attention to PTSD, since the media seemed to push it as a military thing.  I don't come from a military family so it was never on my radar.  It wasn't until several years ago that I read an article about PTSD affecting just an everyday citizen.  I must have read the article a dozen times.  It just hit home and I started looking in to the possibility of having PTSD because of being witness to a murder and having the murder victim ripped from my body.

Honestly, it was so horrible that I do believe I have PTSD.

I never sought help or validation for this notion.  Why?  Stigma is the main reason.  Also, I knew I would never have any support for my journey.  One more thing, I did not want it in my records because I know stuff like that affects decisions when looking for a job.  So, here I am.

Here's some info and I think, from this you can see how an abortion's violence could cause PTSD.

Starting tomorrow I will begin to tell the whole story, from the beginning.  I will try to stay on track so everything will be presented in chronological order.


Below is a collection of information from the NIH:

http://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/post-traumatic-stress-disorder-ptsd/index.shtml

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

What is Post-traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD)?

PTSD develops after a terrifying ordeal that involved physical harm or the threat of physical harm. The person who develops PTSD may have been the one who was harmed, the harm may have happened to a loved one, or the person may have witnessed a harmful event that happened to loved ones or strangers.

PTSD was first brought to public attention in relation to war veterans, but it can result from a variety of traumatic incidents, such as mugging, rape, torture, being kidnapped or held captive, child abuse, car accidents, train wrecks, plane crashes, bombings, or natural disasters such as floods or earthquakes.

Signs & Symptoms

PTSD can cause many symptoms. These symptoms can be grouped into three categories:

1. Re-experiencing symptoms

• Flashbacks—reliving the trauma over and over, including physical symptoms like a racing heart or sweating
• Bad dreams
• Frightening thoughts.

Re-experiencing symptoms may cause problems in a person’s everyday routine. They can start from the person’s own thoughts and feelings. Words, objects, or situations that are reminders of the event can also trigger re-experiencing.

2. Avoidance symptoms

• Staying away from places, events, or objects that are reminders of the experience
• Feeling emotionally numb
• Feeling strong guilt, depression, or worry
• Losing interest in activities that were enjoyable in the past
• Having trouble remembering the dangerous event.

Things that remind a person of the traumatic event can trigger avoidance symptoms. These symptoms may cause a person to change his or her personal routine. For example, after a bad car accident, a person who usually drives may avoid driving or riding in a car.

3. Hyperarousal symptoms

• Being easily startled
• Feeling tense or “on edge”
• Having difficulty sleeping, and/or having angry outbursts.

Hyperarousal symptoms are usually constant, instead of being triggered by things that remind one of the traumatic event. They can make the person feel stressed and angry. These symptoms may make it hard to do daily tasks, such as sleeping, eating, or concentrating.

It’s natural to have some of these symptoms after a dangerous event. Sometimes people have very serious symptoms that go away after a few weeks. This is called acute stress disorder, or ASD. When the symptoms last more than a few weeks and become an ongoing problem, they might be PTSD. Some people with PTSD don’t show any symptoms for weeks or months.

Who Is At Risk?

Risk factors for PTSD include:

• Living through dangerous events and traumas
• Having a history of mental illness
• Getting hurt
• Seeing people hurt or killed
• Feeling horror, helplessness, or extreme fear
• Having little or no social support after the event
• Dealing with extra stress after the event, such as loss of a loved one, pain and injury, or loss of a job or home.

Diagnosis

Not every traumatized person develops full-blown or even minor PTSD. Symptoms usually begin within 3 months of the incident but occasionally emerge years afterward. They must last more than a month to be considered PTSD. The course of the illness varies. Some people recover within 6 months, while others have symptoms that last much longer. In some people, the condition becomes chronic.

Fetal Death Certificate

Did you know you could obtain a fetal death certificate after an abortion?  I thought the left wing murdering whack jobs said that a fetus wasn't life.  If that's the case why would a death certificate be filed?

I am going to try and get a copy of mine, if it exists.  I don't have exact dates because PTSD has contributed to the complete blocking of the exact date of the procedure.  I cannot retrieve the date, no matter how hard and desperately I try.  I could ask my mother but she would not remember, nor care and would just tell me her most favorite comment.  "Don't be ridiculous."  Yeah, that's her favorite line when I tried to share my thoughts and feelings with her.  So, I will not ask her for anything.

Here's the information that the NY Department of Health sent to me.

Remember the left wing wankers don't believe a fetus is life.  This is even more proof that life begins at conception.

------Information received from NY DH Vital Records Department------

Ms. XXXXXX,

We would not have hospital records and I imagine any hospital/facility would have destroyed them by now as this was over 40 years ago.  We might have a copy of the Fetal Death Certificate on file if the fetal death occurred in NYS outside of NYC.

From 1964 – 1992 when a Fetal Death occurred a single type of certificate (for a spontaneous or induced death) was created.  It contains the following information:

The fetus’s first, middle, last name,

Gender,

Type of delivery (single, twin, etc.),

Date of delivery,

Time of delivery

County, town, city, and hospital of delivery,

Name of mother,

Age of mother,

State of birth of mother,

Residence state and address of mother,

Name of father,

Age of father,

State of birth of father

Immediate cause of death

Was there an autopsy

If there was an autopsy were findings considered in determining cause of death

There is a section for the physician’s information

There is a section for the Coroner or ME’s information

The final section, filled out for spontaneous deaths, contains information regarding the disposition of a body.

Since one certificate was used, when the Fetal Death was due to an induced death much of what is listed above is blank.  The certificate does not contain any information regarding consent.  Often with induced Fetal Deaths physicians filled out very little of this form.  Often when someone requests a copy we cannot find one because the physician did not complete any of the identifying information.

If you are interested you may attempt to order a copy of the Fetal Death Certificate and if we have one (or can find one) we can send it to you.  Unfortunately it will just be a certificate, it won’t have many of the answers you are  looking for.  If interested please see our website at http://www.health.ny.gov/vital_records/fetal.htm

If the Fetal Death occurred in NYC we would not have a copy; you will need to contact the New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene. You may contact them by phone at New York City’s main phone number: 311 or 212-639-9675 outside New York City. You can also reach them by mail at:

THE CITY OF NEW YORK – DEPARTMENT OF HEALTH AND MENTAL HYGIENE
OFFICE OF VITAL RECORDS
125 Worth Street, CN 4, Room 133
New York, N.Y. 10013-4090

Applications and contact information are available on the New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene web site at www.nyc.gov/vitalrecords

I hope this has been of some assistance. 

Guy Warner

NYS Registrar

Director, New York State Vital Records