etoiles crisp white sheets show the best stains of burgendy lipstick worn too heavily on such fair skin. she'd lean in and kiss him, leaving herself against him - but he'd never realize that. she'd light a cigarette and lay back unenthused, what else was there to learn about, anyway? he'd insisted he was sterile and she believed that he was, perhaps in more places than one. though the swelling of her belly? that surely wasn't a sterlized fetus. 030901
crimson beautiful, etoiles

a secret placed in a jar and pickled, like a forgotten fetus in formaldehyde
somebody that i used to know I didn't even know i was pregnant by the time I miscarried. Not that I would have kept it. 071103
Somebody that I used to know This many years later. I look at that statement. I never knew what was coming. 100320
Risen Four thousand and two hundred miles away there is a foetus which I love without knowing yet.

My best friend's child. My god child, or my heathen child depending on your sense of humour.

This beautiful child, who has as parents two of the loveliest, kindest and gentle people I know. Whose parents are good Christians. Both of whom didn't have great odds of conceiving a child. So this is a miracle baby.

Only it isn't. It is a baby with a tumour on its heart. With a condition so rare that only 60 cases have ever been reported in the literature. Which has a chance of survival so small that I'm actually too scared to write it here.

It really puts all the petty shit I complain about in perspective.

How can anyone even begin to have faith in a God who lets this sort of fucked up shit slide? Yet at the same time I'm jealous of those who can have faith. Who can believe it's part of a plan. Who have that safety net. Because right now I can't stop crying and I almost fell over because going weak at the knees is a real thing and I want to scream at the unbearable, overwhelming, crippling injustice of it all because all this baby has ever done is be a source of joy in this world.

If this is the eternal plan then I find I have no taste for it.
flowerock Celebrate the joy and comfort the sorrows... let the joy diminish the petty things we thought were sorrows and the sorrow intensify the joy in everything. I've always wondered what I would do if I learned a child I was carrying had a disadvantage or low chance of survival and thriving
Would I carry then to term and hope for the best or terminate the pregnancy feeling that was for the best?

I hope that this fetus in question is born healthy and whole.
Risen The baby was born. Sophie. A beautiful little girl who only looks a little bit like Winston Churchill.

After just over a week on this earth, she has already had three procedures, and open heart surgery to remove the tumour. Fortunately, pathology came back as it being benign.

Now she just has to learn to breathe on her own.
Risen No longer a foetus. A baby. 8 months old

And her parents are holding her and waiting for her to die.

How fucking unfair life can be
epitome of incomprehensibility I'm with you. I think it's horrible that there seems to be no hope for the baby. I mean about her living longer. From the parents' perspective, maybe it's different, though - maybe they're glad for the time they got. 150809
what's it to you?
who go