Life Isn’t All Sunshine And Rainbows

July 12, 2017 | No Comments » | Topics: TRUTH

Couple carries baby without brain to term, in order to donate organs

In December, my wife Keri and I went in for the standard 19-week anatomy scan of our second child. As a parent, you think that appointment is all about finding out boy or girl, but it’s about a whole lot more. In our case, our daughter was diagnosed with a rare birth defect called anencephaly. Some three in 10,000 pregnancies rare. Congratulations to us. The phrase our doctor used in explaining it was “incompatible with life,” which looks as terrible in words as it sounds. The child fails to develop the frontal lobe of the brain, or the top of their skull. The chance of survival is literal zero percent. If you’re Googling it now — first of all, don’t click images — and see a story about a baby that has lived a lengthy time with anencephaly, either the baby doesn’t actually have anencephaly, or it’s being kept alive with every life support function possible. So we sat in a doctor’s office, five months before our daughter was set to be born, knowing she would die.

The options weren’t great. There was a) inducing early, which in effect was terminating the pregnancy or b) continuing the pregnancy to full-term. Maybe you heard our story already, but within a minute or so of finding out, Keri asked if we could donate the baby’s organs if we went to full-term. It was on her heart and mind, but we left the doctor and still spent the next 48 hours deciding what we were going to do. It was excruciating. We considered terminating. We had to. Were we capable of taking on the weight of the 20 weeks ahead? In our minds, we were intentionally taking on the loss of a child, rather than the loss of a pregnancy. And yes, there is a difference.

We decided to continue, and chose the name Eva for our girl, which means “giver of life.” The mission was simple: Get Eva to full-term, welcome her into this world to die, and let her give the gift of life to some other hurting family.

Check out the rest of the story here

 

This woman stabbed her entire family not even 48 hours ago…killing all of them except a 9 year old girl who survived her stab wounds (article)

 

The day he brought her home the first time and the day he carried her coffin out after 18 monthes. Father of a toddler who was killed as a result of shelling in Azerbaijan. (article)

 

How Doctors Tell Patients They’re Dying

 

A 31-year-old San Antonio man, Anthony Garay, was arrested Wednesday after a relative was allegedly caught at school searching for pornography so that she could learn about what he was doing to her at night

The abuse came to light on May 16, when a teacher at Elm Creek Elementary caught one of the victims searching for pornography on a school-issued iPad, according to documents.

When the teacher asked the girl why she was searching for pornography, the child told her that she was searching for what was being done to her at night. She said Garay sexually assaults her “all the time at night” and never lets her sleep.

The teacher contacted Child Protective Services, and an investigator was sent to the school to interview the child. The girl told the investigator that Garay had sexually abused her from at least the age of 8, and that the abuse occurred in her home

 

Tribute from members of London Fire Brigade’s ‘Red Watch’ to victims of the Grenfell Tower fire 

 

A woman dying of cancer wrote her own obituary

My obituary

My name is Sonia Todd and I died of cancer at the age of 38. I decided to write my own obituary because they are usually written in a couple of different ways that I just don’t care for. Either family or friends gather together, and list every minor accomplishment from cradle to grave in a timeline format, or they try to create one poetic last stanza about someone’s life that is so glowing one would think the deceased had been the living embodiment of a deity.

I don’t like the timeline format because, let’s face it, I never really accomplished anything of note. Other than giving birth to my two wonderful, lovable, witty and amazing sons (James and Jason), marrying my gracious, understanding and precious husband (Brian), and accepting the Lord Jesus Christ as my personal savior – I have done very little. None of that requires obit space that I have to shell out money for.

I also didn’t want a bunch of my friends sitting around writing a glowing report of me that we all know would be filled with fish tales, half-truths, impossible scenarios, and outright honest-to-goodness lies. I just don’t like to put people in that kind of situation.

The truth, or my version of it, is this: I just tried to do the best I could. Sometimes I succeeded, most of the time I failed, but I tried. For all of my crazy comments, jokes, and complaints, I really did love people. The only thing that separates me from anyone else is the type of sin each of us participated in. I didn’t always do the right thing or say the right thing and when you come to the end of your life those are the things you really regret, the small simple things that hurt other people.

My life was not perfect and I encountered many, many bumps in the road. I would totally scrap the years of my life from age 16 to 20 … OK, maybe 14 to 22. I think that would eradicate most of my fashion disasters and hair missteps from the ’80s. But mostly, I enjoyed life. Some parts of it were harder than others but I learned something from every bad situation and I couldn’t do any more than that.

Besides there are some benefits to dying youngish. For example, I still owe on my student loans and the joke’s on them cuz I’m not paying them. Plus, I am no longer afraid of serial killers, telemarketers, or the IRS. I don’t have to worry about wrinkles or the ozone layer and/or hide from the news during election season.

Some folks told me that writing my own obituary was morbid, but I think it is great because I get a chance to say “thank you” to all the people who helped me along the way. Those that loved me, assisted me, cared for me, laughed with me, and taught me things so that I could have a wonderful, happy life. I was blessed beyond measure by knowing all of you. That is what made my life worthwhile.

If you think of me, and would like to do something in honor of my memory, do this:

Volunteer at a school, church, or library.

Write a letter to someone and tell them how they have had a positive impact on your life.

If you smoke – quit.

If you drink and drive – stop.

Turn off the electronics and take a kid out for ice cream and talk to them about their hopes and dreams.

Forgive someone who doesn’t deserve it.

Stop at all lemonade stands run by kids and brag about their product.

Make someone smile today if it is in your power to do so.

 

Many families ‘selling’ off girls in Yemen to avoid starvation

 

8 years after soldier took his life 

 

Female suicide bomber cradling baby moments before she blows them both up (article)

 

Kamikaze pilots (age 17-19) pose with a puppy a day before their suicide missions

Photo shows Corporal Yukio Araki (age 17 years old) holding a puppy with four other young men (age 18 and 19 years old) of the 72nd Shinbu Corps. An Asahi Shimbun cameraman took this photo on the day before the departure of the 72nd Shinbu Corps from Bansei Air Base for their kamikaze mission in Okinawa.

Yukio Araki became the youngest kamikaze pilot during the Second World War when, at the age of seventeen, he took off from the Bansei Airfield, Kagoshima in a Tachikawa Ki-54 twin-engine training aircraft on 27 May 1945. It has been speculated that his plane was one of two that struck the destroyer USS Braine (DD-630), killing 66 of its crew; however, the ship did not sink. Araki had been home in April 1945, and left letters for his family, to be opened upon the news of his death. The letter to his parents noted: “Please find pleasure in your desire for my loyalty to the Emperor and devotion to parents. I have no regrets. I just go forward on my path”.

Ceremonies were carried out before kamikaze pilots departed on their final mission. The Kamikaze shared ceremonial cups of sake or water known as “mizu no sakazuki”. Many Army officer Kamikaze took their swords with them, while the Navy pilots (as a general rule) did not carry swords in their planes. The kamikaze, like all Japanese aviators flying over unfriendly territory, were issued (or purchased, if they were officers) a Nambu pistol with which to end their lives if they risked being captured. Like all Army and Navy servicemen, the Kamikaze would wear their senninbari, a “belt of a thousand stitches” given to them by their mothers. They also composed and read a death poem, a tradition stemming from the samurai, who did it before committing seppuku. Pilots carried prayers from their families and were given military decorations. The Kamikaze were escorted by other pilots whose function was to protect the Kamikaze to their destination and report on the results.

 

A widow leans on her husband’s headstone on the day before their wedding anniversary on 16th October, 2013.

 

Nurses after a patient suffers a miscarriage

 

ER Doctor after losing a 19-year old patient

 

A Facebook suicide note of a transgender woman to her friends and the world with her friend’s responses.

 

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