So I Went To School With An Axe Murderer....

I had to work on Sunday,( much to my disgust), and after selling, what felt like, a couple of hundred papers, the headline “Axe Killer Baby Bid” had me most curious. I finally got to sit down during my lunch break and read the article. Well wasn’t I surprised when the “Axe Murderer” in question was actually someone who was in my same grade during high school! I didn’t have much to do with him in school. Quite frankly, he scared the be-jesus out of me, which is saying alot seeing as I myself was one of the “tough kids”.

Many many years ago, one of the accomplice’s sister was a friend of mine and I was unfortunate enough to hear all the gruesome details of this heinous crime. For the sheer fact that this bastard committed this murder while there was a 2 yr old in the house, should be reason enough for him never to be allowed to have kids, let alone expect the government to fork out money so he and his skanky wife* can do IVF.
I’m glad the government said no, but I’m pissed at our judicial system that would even let his appeal go before a judge. What makes him think that he deserves the right to be able to father a child while incarcerated for murdering someone else’s? I can’t believe the audacity of this bloke. I hope like hell that he doesn’t make parole next year, the world would be a far better place without little “Trevors” running around anytime soon.


*I have no knowledge on who she actually is, but anyone who could marry someone like this must have a certain degree of “skanky-ness” about them.

I've learnt a lesson today....

When you have an arse like this......


you SHOULD NOT wear undies like THIS.....



They creep, they crawl...... it's just NASTY!

I spent the whole night at work picking them out of my butt.... it wasn't pretty.

Would You?

This was dropped in our letter box the other day......





If you don’t have time to read it, here’s the short version.

This woman is looking for a kidney for her son. Because it is illegal to buy/sell body organs, she wants to form a friendship and then harvest your kidney.

I understand that during desperate times, people will do almost anything in the hope that someone, anyone, would be willing to make such a sacrifice to give their loved one the gift of life.

The more I think about it, the more it tears at my heart. Here is this mother, who loves her son and is fearful of losing him to this terrible disease, has gone as far as a letter box drop, in the hope that someone will be selfless enough to donate an organ and save his life.

Have I considered it....... yes....briefly......

Would I actually do it? No. The fact that I have the wrong blood group has a little to do with it, also the fact that I smoke, am overweight, and have lead a semi-rockstar life with all the drinking and drugs I’ve done in the past would make me a not so exceptional candidate.

It’s the “what if’s” that have me answering a resounding NO. What if I have kidney problems in the future? What if one day one of my family need a kidney?

But then........if it was me or someone I love, and no one was a match, wouldn’t I reach out in the hope that someone would find it in their heart to be so generous?

None the less

***Graphic post. Please know that it not my intention to offend or shock. I just wanted his story to be told*******


Honey!

We were getting ready for bed, he’d just gone down stairs to grab some clothes off the line. I’d just sat down on the toilet and felt a gush of water and something slide out of me. I’d had this feeling before. I’d passed a massive clot the size of a liver just before losing AJ.
Another clot? It couldn’t possibly be. There’d been no warnings, no pain, no bleeding like last time. I didn’t want to look. I couldn’t look. I had to look.
There was our baby.

HONEY!!!!

I could hear his footsteps up the back steps.

What??

I stood up, blood gushing down my leg.

The baby..... I’ve just lost the baby.

He held me

What do you mean?

The baby, it just fell, I’m sorry angel, I’m so so sorry.

Are you sure?

I pointed to the toilet. I could barely look again.

We need to..... I can’t..... please get our baby.

I couldn’t watch as he knelt down and fished out our tiny baby.
The silence.....
The deafening silece......
The warmth of the blood flowing down my legs.
I couldn’t look at him.
I didn’t want to see contempt in his eyes.
This was my fault.
My body.
My fault.
Because I smoked.
Guilt.
My fault.
Because I was over weight.
Shame.
My fault.
My body.
My crappy body.
My fault.
My fault.
My fault.
I remained calm. Removed. Detached.
I peered over his shoulder. His right shoulder. His right hand held our tiny baby. I reached out and moved that tiny leg.

A boy........ our little boy.

What do we do now?

The blood, I’m bleeding, we’re going to have to go to the hospital.

I reach out and touch our tiny son’s chest. He’s still warm.
I grab a towel and hold it between my legs.
I call the ER.
He sits on the arm of the couch. He stares at his son.
We need something to put him on.
I get him a tea towel, clean from the draw.
Standing in the middle of the lounge room.
He ever so carefully moves him to the makeshift blanket.
We stand, like in a family portrait. Me by his side, him holding his son.
Then. Unbelievably.
Our baby stretches out his tiny arm. It’s almost like a last desperate hope to be saved.

He’s still alive Chan, quick, call the ambulance, he’s still alive Chan, he’s still alive!

The agony in his voice. The despair.

There’s nothing they can do, he’s too little, it’s too early.....

Why am I so calm, why am I so impassive?
I try calling my Dad. His home, his mobile, his work number. No answer.
I have a shower.
He holds his son, studying every inch of his tiny body.
I call my Mum, I get my sister. I tell her we’re on our way to the hospital.
He needs to get dressed.
I wander through the house, holding our son like he was a new born, cradled in my arm.

I’m sorry..... I’m sorry...... I’m sorry......I love you..... please know I love you....

He drives. Our son in my lap. I stare out the window, detached, too afraid to look down.

Why? The ultra sound two days ago....... everything was perfect...... why....14 weeks.... I really thought everything was going to be ok.....this time......

I don’t know.....

Did you see his tiny fingernails?

Yes angel..... I did....

Why?

The hospital. Incompetent. Insensitive.
He holds our son as I hop on to the bed.

And what makes you think you’ve had a miscarriage?

Can you not see our son???
The bleeding won’t stop.
He holds my hand. He holds our son.
They poke and prod. No pain relief.
He listens as I beg them to stop.
She comes and takes our son away.
They consult.
I can see our son, across the corridor, in a jar of formaldehyde, on the bench. I don’t draw his attention to it.
Emergency D & C.
He waits.
He’s the first thing I see when I wake up.

I love you

The first thing I hear.
He holds my hand through to the early hours of the morning. He sleeps with his head rested on my bed.
He’s told to leave as the sun comes up.
Women’s ward..... think of the others....... don’t want to wake up with a man in the room......women’s ward.
He leaves. His son. His love.
He goes home to an empty house.
Alone.
He sleeps.

Later. I’m home. Mum, Dad, sister leave.
We’re alone.
We talk.
We cry. He holds me.
It’ll be ok. We still have each other.
He’s sorry.
For not understanding how hard it was for me when we lost AJ.
Just a blob on an ultra sound picture. He didn’t get to see him. Hold him. It didn’t seem real. The first time.
He is my rock. Even though his heart is shattered.
He gives me hope. Next time. It will happen. We will have a baby.
He purges me of my guilt.
He soothes my soul.
And he loves me.

Two days later. A shopping center.
Strollers, prams, pregnant bellies
Babies
Babies
Babies
Everywhere.
Heading home, he turns to me.

Out of all those babies that I saw today, none of them was a beautiful as Jesse.

A tear falls.
I reach for his hand.
I love you.


Tomorrow is Father’s Day.
He’s a father..... twice over.
He’s a Dad to two boys.
Two boys who he will never be able to teach how to play basketball or change the oil on a car. Who he will never hear giggle and laugh at his silly antics. Who will never feel how unbelievably safe it feels to be wrapped in his arms.
He is a father none the less.


I just wish it was different......