Putin’s Immoral Choice | Orphanages vs. Loving Same-Sex Families

O-blog-dee-o-blog-da

By Melanie Nathan, October 14, 2013.

Screen Shot 2013-10-14 at 5.56.15 AMRussian lawmakers would rather see infants and children starve and suffer neglect, resulting in deformities and attachment disorders than provide these children with the opportunities for love and health.  A picture speaks a million words – how does one grasp what could have been; and why would Russian lawmakers,  Vladimir Putin at the helm, toss these small children away in the name of bigotry and hate?

President Vladimir Putin signed a law banning gay and lesbian couples in foreign countries from adopting Russian children. The Kremlin said in a statement that “the measure is aimed at guaranteeing a harmonious and full upbringing for children in adoptive families”. It also bans adoption by unmarried individuals who live in countries with laws permitting same-sex marriages. Yet apparently these same lawmakers send their own kids to study in these very countries that permit same-sex marriage.

Several Russian lawmakers…

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10 Years Ago

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On this night ten years ago I sat on my couch in Clifton Tennessee tears rolling down my face terrified. The three years prior, I had endured two miscarriages and a still birth. I was 38 weeks pregnant scheduled to be induced at 8am the next morning. Earlier in my pregnancy they suspected the baby of having cleft lip as well as hypoplastic left heart syndrome. Vanderbilt had ruled out HLHS, but we still were not 100 percent sure of what to expect. An early scan has also shown choroid plexus cysts on his brain, indicators of a chromosome abnormality, coupled with my oldest son having Down syndrome. The future of my baby was very much a mystery, Because of my risk of miscarriage I had refused an amnio.

Anyone that has went through repeat pregnancy loss knows that the experience itself turns you into an amateur OB/GYN. I could tell you every single thing that could go wrong in detail.  Sorrow shatters your innocence, instead of thinking of loss as a statistic you almost expect it. You brace yourself for it.

I wasn’t thinking about meeting my baby, I was trying to figure out how I was going to say goodbye again and still be able to function.

October the 6th 2003,

I expected a battle. I had fought so hard for three years to get to this place. I was braced for anything. I went in armed with all my knowledge, I knew my baby was high, So when it was time to break my water I asked my Doctor to leak it. (Yep I knew all about cord prolapse) My eyes never left the monitor as pitocin started its job. I had wanted a natural childbirth, but I also realized that due to my size it would be better to be ready for a c-section to shave off valuable minutes in case the baby was in distress so I had the epidural before I’d even became uncomfortable.

The pitocin was started at 9am my water was “leaked” as requested at 11am.

I sat staring at the heartbeat. 153, 162, 155…

The nurse was going to lunch and came in to check my progress at 12:00pm and to everyone’s surprise it was time to push.

I never felt the first contraction. The hours of pushing I’d experienced in the past wasn’t going to happen this time. Without a single bit of effort, before the doctor even had time to put his gloves on the nurse delivered my baby. He slipped so gently, and softly into this world. A complete contradiction to the fight to have him.

There he was. My beautiful baby boy. My Evan from heaven. Healthy at that!! The only reminder of the frailty of life and how easily we could have had a different outcome was the true knots in his two vessel cord. (google it, it’ll scare the pants off you)

There are only a few times in this life that you rise above what you know and truly feel part of something beyond understanding. Where you understand the WHY.

When the pain makes sense, when you understand the value of the reward was based on the battle you fought to hold it. You transcend to a place that without a doubt you feel the universe has a perfect intricate design, if only to live this tiny perfect moment.

I was Evan’s Mom.

How different being Evan’s mom was compared to being Kaden and Jonathan’s. Not that I loved them less, but I lacked the true understanding of how precious the sound of every cry was. How cracked nipples and colic could be so beautiful. I would get lost just staring at my baby, and there has not been one day in the last ten years that I have not looked at him and remembered how blessed I am that he is my little boy, that I am his Mother.

I have never taken a single breath he’s breathed for granted. His preciousness, his amazing thoughts and idea’s they all are reminders of how very different my life would have been without the miracle of him.

I am blessed beyond measure, the right amount of struggle and pain to truly appreciate how wonderfully amazing life really is.

Tomorrow I will celebrate Evans birthday,  knowing that this day means so much more than he will ever know. It was the day when I wasn’t limited to the confines of human understanding that I vibrated with amazing clarity with the absolute knowledge of a grander plan.

My Granny

My Granny

The thing that stands out the most about my Granny was that she really knew how to love.
People were not disposable and there was nothing I’m sorry couldn’t fix.
She believed the only unforgivable sin was unforgiveness itself, she lived that.
She was humble.
She could have been bitter. She’d never been healthy. She battled four types of cancer and chronic pain, but she wasn’t.
When Chemotherapy took her hair that hung past her knees. She smiled and raised her crooked little hand towards the sky saying “God really knew what he was doing, this chemo makes me so weak with all that hair I’d never be able to hold up my head”
She was grateful. She would tell anyone that would listen how blessed she was. Even the nurses in the hospital days before cancer claimed her she’d stop them and tell them just how good God had been to her.
No matter how many times people would show up at her door at 3 am bringing to her their greatest sorrow, she never turned them away. She never made them feel like the burdens she carried made their problems invalid.
She understood people as a whole, no matter how badly a person messed up or how sad a situation would seem, she’d pick out the best story and say. “I remember when I had a need ..”and so and so was there for me. She focused on the best of people, and seemed to just not see or care about the rest.
No situation was hopeless and there was nothing that love couldn’t cover.
The funny thing is even when people or situations disappointed her she didn’t give those feelings permanence. She didn’t expect less the next time.
She really understood unconditional.
It wasn’t just a pretty way to describe love it was everything she was.
I miss that kind of light in this world.
I miss that kind of faith in humanity.

Its only because of her that I believe it exists.