Protest

Last weekend the annual women’s protest happened again and besides hatred towards the current president and the right to abort an unborn baby, I’m not quite sure what else are they protesting for, because the last time I checked we still lived in America where women have far more rights than most women combined in other parts of this world.

Personally, the vaginal hats and F*** signs are extremely insulting to me, but don’t worry that does not define me as a woman; my children do, my husband does and other things that have nothing to do with profanity and genital hats.

I’ll tell you a story- my story.

I was born with few health issues.

For one thing, my reproductive organs did not fall into place as they should’ve and my mother was told I would not be able to have children.

My Fontanella (the soft spot between the parietal bones and frontal bone) was bulged out- the doctor said I was going to be a retard or an idiot, in other words neurologically I was going to be slower than the norm. The Fontanella it looked and felt like jello and my mother hardly touched me for the first few months after birth for fear of hurting me further. So I lacked the bonding time, very important and necessary to a healthy development, but life was different back then and information was lacking.

I also had a severe vitamin D deficiency and I began having regular shots of vitamin D right away that lasted a whole year. These were among the issues that were visible right away and the doctor pressured my mother to have me aborted after I was born, worried that my quality of life would be a burden to the medical system and Marxist society in which I was born. I was a defect product and needed to be discarded so I would not become a useless eater. My mother vehemently refused.

“God’s will be done.” She tolled herself accepting the outcome, but if I wasn’t going to recover I was in danger of a “vaccine shot” that was nothing short of a euthanize method. I did recover.

At home, I grew up in pretty harsh poverty, mostly between the age of 5-19. We went many days in “involuntarily fasting” whether we liked it or not, but for that now some of us are rounder than we’d like to be:) God, yes God, took care of us. That is what I choose to believe, despite the skepticism of others.

We also went through physical and emotional trauma, abuse and at times torture methods until the day each and every one of us left home. Emotionally, if we give way the emotional abuse would continue to this very moment, but all of us have chosen peace, so we have departed from the source of the abuse.

So from many people’s modern standards of today, I should’ve been aborted. After all I had too many physical issues putting a burden on the family or society, I was born in extreme poverty (Eastern Europe poverty), and raised in a very abusive family environment. I fit most of the reasons given for an abortion, right?

Yet, I’m thankful for every day on this earth despite its hardships. I thank God every day for his love towards me shown mostly through other people, some of which are reading these words. We see the goodness in others. We see hate in others as well. So choose. I’ve chosen. I stand for life.

I do not judge anyone who had an abortion- I wasn’t in your shoes when you made the decision and it’s not my place to judge what I don’t know. But I do know the fetus is a living being and I’ve always fought for the underdog. Its just part of my character and I will continue to do so.

God Bless.

 

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