GMO'S: PART THREE

FED and MISLEAD

"This magical, marvelous food on our plate, this sustenance we absorb, has a story to tell. It has a journey. It leaves a footprint. It leaves a legacy. To eat with reckless abandon, without conscience, without knowledge; folks, this ain't normal."  ~Joel Salatin

              Today is MARCH AGAINST MONSANTO DAY. Protests are occurring all over the world by informed consumers who see a better vision for themselves and their children than what we are being fed.  Austria, Bulgaria, Greece, Hungary, Ireland, Japan, Luxembourg, Madeira, New Zealand, Peru, South Australia, Russia, France, and Switzerland have led the way in banning Monsanto's GMO seeds from their countries.  Fields have been burned. Those who know and understand the implications for this have started over.

                No, this definitely "ain't normal." The following devastation has been shown in animals fed GMO's:  Sterility, Reproductive Damage, Immune System Problems (and Allergen Responses), Accelerated Aging, Organ Damage, GI Problems and Potentially Precancerous Cell Growth in the Digestive Tract, Dysfunction of Cholesterol and Insulin, Mental Problems, Offspring of Mice With Hair Growing in their Mouths, Organ Lesions, and Inflamed Organs. What's even more disturbing is that in the first 90 days of studies with mice, no overt signs of disease were observed; After the first 90 days, absolutely horrific, grotesque tumors had formed. The problems that were invisible in the first generation were full-blown in the 3rd generation, and the mice starting dying off rapidly. Monsanto's response to the studies was to dismiss them, saying that the wrong rats were used.

               Where have we gone wrong? Why isn't it second nature for us to know exactly what's in our food? Why is ill health the new normal? Some of the most devastating suffering I see right now, is that our culture does not truly understand that we can advocate for ourselves. We don't have to just accept these conditions and question why God gave them to us. How quickly we question God for our sufferings, not understanding sometimes they can come from sinful man in a sinful world. We don't have to just throw our hands up in the air that cancer is the leading cause of death now in children under the age of 15 or that our tiny babies' teeth are already showing signs of decay. It doesn't have to be rocket science that if our children's bodies aren't getting enough of all the vitamins and minerals they need, sickness and disease will thrive instead of the child. Why is it a stretch for us to think about the irony of the Ronald McDonald House, but not a stretch for us to douse our children with sugar and empty nutrition? Mothers are just trying to make it day by day doing the best they can, so my goal is not to attack mothers. Monsanto is a different story.  An affiliate of Monsanto has even said that if you label GMO's, "you might as well put a skull and crossbones" on the label too. They know full well what they are doing.

                In my quest for health, I have learned that there is so much out of my control. There is a lot of conflicting, confusing information out there.  Sometimes we cannot see, because we just don't have the understanding to know what to believe.  There are several different paths a person can take. The limit is usually money, time,  and/or wisdom. It makes me think of Jesus and His time on earth and how desperate people, including myself, were and still are for a divine hand to heal their sufferings.   Healing was being touched by Him, being encompassed by Him, having Him simply lead the way and share in the sufferings of those who needed Him. The treasure was unlocked when He appeared again to His disciples; at the time all they could understand was death . Healing wasn't found in a carefully wrapped box underneath a sparkling bow, and it certainly wasn't found in a processed foods box, GMO's or not; healing was a person.  Sometimes it feels like when Jesus ascended into heaven, the healing went with Him. But His Divine hand is still guiding and leading His children to that place-that place that will be ours someday if it never comes on earth. But He left His Spirit and gave us the privilege of becoming His body. How can He heal here if we are not His voice, His hands, His feet? When it seems that God is silent, sometimes the real problem is that those whom He has given knowledge to have not shared His message of healing.  Sometimes that means shutting up about your opinions and only offering words of encouragement to someone who is hurting. Sometimes that means saying things that offend your culture but that need to be said. Sometimes healing is found in unexpected places; even through burning fields and starting over.

         

  

 

 

 

 

 

Early Miscarriage

I have always known that miscarriage caused deep suffering for the mother. I also always knew that I never wanted to have that experience, but I wanted to be able to understand what to say to a mother who had the experience. The first time I saw the suffering caused by miscarriage I was in high school. I shudder to think how insensitive I was then during this woman's experience, because I truly had no way to grasp what had happened. I just pretended like things were the same when I saw her, never fully understanding how selfish that actually was.

So now, here I am experiencing my own time to grieve. I am very grateful for so many things. It was a very, very early miscarriage. The further along the pregnancy, the harder it would be. It would be harder both emotionally and physically for me, and this is hard enough. I went through pain, but I did not have to go through intense contractions that a woman further along experiences and know that intense pain and intense joy would never have the chance to meet on earth.  I also am so thankful that this is my first experience with miscarriage. I have two children. My tears are for a third baby-for the hopes that were planted-for the sense of loss; I do not have to have tears entwined wondering if I will ever be able to know the joy of children. I have no right to complain. I am blessed beyond measure.

I know that all animals mourn loss as well; there is no shame in grieving. The hardest part of this is how surreal it has been, almost like a figment of my imagination. How just a couple weeks ago, I was shocked to find that what we were trying to avoid and had no intention of because we are not in the place to take care of another baby became implanted in my body, heart, and mind. How easy it was to wonder from that very moment if he were he or she were she. From day one, the search for a name began. And just as quickly as thoughts soared, waves crashed. The baby lost was not given the chance to form, so what does that mean? Was the cluster of forming cells and tissue just cells or will I have a baby to hold in heaven someday? This is what's hard for me to process right now. I never would want the pain of miscarrying a baby that looked like an actual baby, but at the same time I never saw a baby but have a deep sense of loss for a baby.

So the only way I could reconcile this was in a  sort-of poem. Because when Monday comes I will not be able to sit in bed and eat gluten-free brownies and coconut milk ice cream (the closest I get to being bad, because even those things make me feel sick-lol) and cry and have my husband play my part for the weekend. When Monday comes, I will purpose in my heart to look for joy and take care of the two that I DO have, who need a mother who lets them be joyful. That's the beauty of babes and small children; they see joy everywhere adults have forgotten it exists.

 

Lacking Nothing

 

If I let you go,

If I move on,

It's not because I don't love you,

Or that you aren't desperately wanted.

It's because I would never name a child of mine DISAPPOINTMENT.

I name you PURPOSE,
And let you rest peacefully with God,

Counting you as my joy.

 

 

James 1: 2-5

 

Consider it PURE JOY, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all WITHOUT FINDING FAULT, and it will be given to you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Love and Loss

This post is going to be RAW as those are the emotions I feel now. If you can't handle reading about miscarriage then don't read any further. Normally, I know it is foolish to put your emotions out there when you know the grieving process is just beginning, but in writing I find strength. Though my eyes are a little blinded by tears; my voice will not be shaky on the page.

Last week I found out I was pregnant with a third child. We were shocked. We were so careful. I feel like I can hardly take care of the two I have right now and myself, so how would I take care of another child? Plus, my children and I have so many needs. Sometimes I wish I could have the cares of the average Mom (or the Mom I picture in my head). Instead, there are so many times I have almost burst into tears in the grocery store. The pressure is suffocating. I feel trapped in a prison, because my children seem to react to most everything that goes into their mouths. I feel like I have to have their diets perfect, because so so so much I want them to be healthy and well.  I am like the woman who just wants to get a piece of that cloak; I would do anything just to touch a piece of that cloak. Even the ice cream truck makes me sad. All the little joys of childhood are now tainted, because now I know the truth.  With so little that I and my children can eat, I get hungry for heaven. I get hungry for a safe place. I get hungry for the place where the lamb will not be afraid of the wolf, where the lion will eat straw, where babies will put their hands on the snake's nest and no harm will come to them.

A third baby brought excitement but deep solemnity. All our finances get poured into health, because I know that if you don't have your health, aside from God, you have nothing. I never want to become a burden.  I chose not to tell family for several reasons, one being that I did not want to worry anyone. I have a very, very hard time with my health after the deliveries.  Also, I nursed my son round the clock every one or two hours for an entire year, because in my heart I knew it was the best chance for him to thrive, ignoring the looks of disgust from others from doing so. The LORD gave me a deep strength through that and a joyous bond with my son that no one can ever take away from me. To bring another baby into the world with all of these struggles though would make me feel guilty. It takes three-four years for a mother to build back her nutrient stores from pregnancy. The baby's heart is often formed before the mother even knows that she is pregnant. I am so passionate about children being well-nourished.  We live in a society that thinks Cheerios will do it, and there is nothing further from the truth. There were just so many emotions! I had planned to really focus in on my daughter with attention and homeschooling, because my son's needs were higher for a long time. I had also planned to get us all on the same page with something called the Gaps Intro Diet and really work on healing my babies' bellies, and that in itself is a full-time job.

Still, of course I would welcome a new baby in a heartbeat.  And I began to think of names. And take delight in the idea of a family of 5. 

The LORD gives, and the LORD takes away. Blessed be the name  of the LORD. Why am I choosing to write when I am smack dab in the middle of a miscarriage? Because this is my opportunity to have my say. Because I try to keep an open mind and respect others, all the while being disrespected myself and thought of as crazy.  I am one of those "stubborn" people who doesn't go to the doctor. One of those people who is learning to make her own cleaners and beauty products, products that couldn't possibly work as well as the chemicals.  I am one of those "careless"  people who doesn't vaccinate her children. I am to be feared, because I am the enemy. No matter my circumstances, no matter all that I have researched, all the voices of suffering I have listened to, all that I have learned, not only am I putting my children in danger, I am putting YOUR children and the rest of society in danger. I am depriving my own children of opportunities when I homeschool. They will be sheltered and unsocialized.  I don't go for the drugs, but I research and research and research the amazing properties of plants and herbs and nutrition to try and build up, instead of tear down. I am arrogant, because I think I could possibly have any answers for the babies that I put down to sleep every night instead of letting the doctor decide our fate in every circumstance.  I am the witch doctor. This is my opportunity to shout in my isolation, because right now my anger won't let me worry about being offensive, and I seldom feel that luxury. Be careful who you treat as lepers, as uneducated, as irresponsible. Be careful who you leave out in the cold, because you may never know the warmth that lights their souls.

Because yet again, the medical system has reaffirmed the path that I, in my "eccentricity", have been walking. When there is a woman who walks into an office while she is having a miscarriage for an appointment that was scheduled a couple days earlier by an ER doctor (Was told to go to the ER, and spent five hours there with two children, because no other doctors could take her that she called that day as well)....And that woman is told that the doctor is not accepting any new patients and the 10:00 am scheduling must have been some mistake, what do you expect her to do?

Because honey, it forsakes all "modern wisdom" to pick your emotionally frail self up and boldly walk right out that door, and know that you are going to be okay. You got confirmation earlier it was NOT a potentially life-threatening  ectopic pregnancy , and you know your body and you've been through this before, even though this is your first miscarriage. And you know that if someone came to you with a miscarriage, you would reach out a hand of compassion to them and nurture them with love. And if they can't offer that to you, then it is their loss. They have lost far more than you just have.  Once again, the doctor was not in for you. This is nothing new for you.

Your body could not sustain a baby, and that will make you sad and you will see families of five and tears will well up in your eyes for a little while. But you know you have been through so much, and that you are so blessed, because there are women who would do anything just to be able to bear children at all, and you have two who just this morning were picking flowers and making soup out of dirt reminding you of the joys of motherhood that might never have been but are here in this moment for you to cherish.  This is not a tragedy. The little spirit that was brewing is with God in the place where women who have suffered silently in desperate want will hold babies forever that were tragically unwanted. Everything will be restored.  There will be grief, but there is a deep peace in knowing  the timing was not right.

 Your body could not sustain a baby, but your body has its own rhythm and you have learned to listen to it. The signs were there all along. You knew that when you were nesting that is what mothers naturally do at the end of a pregnancy. You know your body is in a state of cleansing. You are not hungry. It is all natural for the time and good. You don't need a blood test to tell you if the pregnancy is still progressing; you have the confirmation you need. You will research again and find natural ways to help your body with the process and learn the beauty in letting go. You are on your own again, but you know your gain is strength and wisdom.  There is a Divine Healer who is always in-His Name is Love. He doesn't question the path you walk; He is the path.


Update: I wrote this right after coming back from the doctor after I had miscarried by myself at home. If this post angers you, know that I believe doctors are needed, that there are many sacrificing, wonderful doctors who deserve much more credit than they have been given. The doctor and nurses I saw in the ER were wonderful.  But I will not apologize for being angered at the system, at the financial greed behind the system, a system that bandages the eyes and ties the hands and feet of laboring mothers who were meant to be amazed at the strength and wonder of the individual human body, not afraid of it and left powerless.