Our Friendship is Over You Say?

Our friendship is over you say?

You claim foul,

But yet you pushed me away.

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Write with us or follow us!

I don’t know if anyone here is on Medium. At first, I went on to build a following but the site seemed too preoccupied with how much money you make and whether the curators liked your story. Most of the groups I have been in about Medium have only been concerned with money.

I try to get my work on as many sites as I an to build a following. If you are interested in building a following and finding a new place to showcase your work please join me. I created a publication on Medium for all writers.

Purple Pen

 

The Purple Pen (4)

The Little Turtle

 

The Little Turtle

A Turtle hatches as it makes it away 

Out of the sand.

No one is there, they have all left.

Running to the sea to begin their lives.

 

The turtle looks back at the empty nest.

Should I stay? The turtle asks.

Safe and secure.

Or make my way to the shore?

 

Will they be there waiting for me?

Waiting in the water?

Or will they all be gone, and 

I will be alone again.

 

Safe and secure for how long?

Or go to the shore,

Where uncertainty lies?

 

Will I be alone again. Floating endlessly in

The sea of despair.

 

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Free Poetry Book

 

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Ramblings of the Mind, is a collection of art, poems, and thoughts. Many of my poems might be dark and depressing, but writing is how I cope with things life throws at us. When I’m frustrated, hurt, and sad, I write. It helps me cope with my feeling though not every poem will fit this description most of them.

Ghost of a Life that is Not Mine

collection of gray scale photos

Photo by Fancycrave.com on Pexels.com

 

What have I done wrong,

To keep me from your mind?

Forgotten and left aside,

A memory of one who came before.

 


 

A ghost of a life that was not mine.

A memory of one who shares my face.

Lost in an endless tide, reaching but never touching.

 


 

Summers in the sun, the surf at our feet.

Summers in the sand, drawing, and laughing.

Summers on the street, bikes and games and more.

 


 

A ghost of a life that was not mine.

A memory of one who shares my face.

Lost in an endless tide, reaching but never touching.

 


 

My childhood lost in a daze

My Innocence long since forgotten

My memories fade away.

 


 

A ghost of a life that was not mine

A memory of one who shares my face.

Lost in an endless tide, reaching but never touching.

 

 

Birth After Miscarriage: A Spiritual Journey Chapter 1 Wanting to be a Mom

This Book can be found on Amazon.com

Birth After Miscarriage

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Chapter 1 Wanting to be a Mom

Ever since my mother died when I was eleven years old, I wanted to be a mom. She was an amazing and inspiring woman. I hope to one day be half the woman she was.

I didn’t get married to have a baby. I didn’t try to have a family until we were five years into our marriage. It gave us the opportunity to spend time together and learn each other on a deeper level.

When Devin said he was ready to be a dad, I was excited. I wanted to make a doctor’s appointment to ensure I was healthy enough to bear a child.

We discussed plans surrounding the baby’s arrival and dreamt sweetly about name options. The thoughts were beautiful. We were ready for this next phase in our lives.

I figured I’d become pregnant immediately, but it did not happen that way. We created a calendar so I could record the basal temperature readings from my ovulation tests along with my ovulation and menstrual cycles. Unfortunately, it became more expensive than we had anticipated it would be.

“Stop buying these tests. We don’t have enough money for you to keep doing this,” Devin kept telling me. “It will happen when God wants it to happen.”

Although I didn’t give up, I didn’t expect to become pregnant. I was frustrated because I thought God wanted me to be a mom. Was something wrong with me? Had I been wrong?

I tested regularly without seeing the results I hoped for. When we first tried to have a baby, I took the pregnancy test before I missed my menstrual cycle. I was so anxious that I circled the earliest dates on my calendar when I could expect the most accurate testing results.

After months of negative outcomes, I gave up on the idea of having a child. I know of women who tried for years without ever becoming pregnant. In comparison, I had not been trying for a long time, but I was still frustrated with the process and the absence of a child.

I went to my doctor for a regular checkup who had become pregnant after enduring a struggle very similar to my own. She was now five months pregnant and thought she should offer her advice.

“Get an ovulation tester. Sperm can live up to five days in the uterus, so it’s good to have sperm in there before you ovulate. The younger the sperm are, the stronger they are. But once the egg drops, you only have twelve hours to fertilize it before it deteriorates.”

Our conversation helped me tremendously. I had been misusing the testers. I thought I should have been indulging in sexual intercourse once I started to ovulate, but that was extremely far from the truth. Starting a few days before I ovulated would increase my chance of becoming pregnant. Once the egg dropped, I would have a supply of sperm waiting for it.

I had always been amazed at how people struck gold on their first try. But, as Devin said, “It will happen in God’s time, not ours.”

THE BOOK CAN BE FOUND AT AMAZON.COM

Birth After Miscarriage

Invisible

NANCY ANN (2)

<

p dir=”ltr”>I feel invisible. I am invisible.
As if life is passing me by and no one seems to notice or care.

You run around me asking for help, but my hand you do not see.

I am invisible. I am invisible.

You walk right past me as if no one was there.

I am a shadow of the way I was, a body with no host.

You walk right past me as if I was a ghost.

I am a shadow of my former self, as I try to hold on to things of the past

A shadow of the life that I used to share.

I am invisible. I am invisible.

You walk right past me as if no one was there.

I am a shadow of the way I was, a body with no host.

You walk right past me as if I was a ghost.

<

p dir=”ltr”>You walk right past me as if I am nothing.
The tears I shed, go unnoticed as you no longer care.

You walk past me as if I was never there.

Why is my self-worth wrapped up in what you think?

I watched everything go by but seeing nothing as nothing is left for me.

Trapped in a box I can not escape,

The water pulls em under but you do not see

I am invisible, I am invisible

You walk right past me as if no one was there

I am a shadow of the way I was, a body with no host

You walk right past me as if I was a ghost

Information for Parents of Special Education Children.

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This is for parents of special education children. You must fight for their rights. You are the only voice they have.

Doctors diagnosed Zelda, my daughter, with Autism at 2 years. We weathered through early childhood intervention. She had speech therapy, physical therapy, and occupational therapy. I felt very comfortable with the early intervention team but when we transferred over to the school teams, everything was a challenge. You had to fight for everything.

This is one example of the IEP process that caused us problems.

ZELDA’S IEP

We had Zelda’s IEP today. Zelda is in the 3-year-old preschool disabled classroom. I have a problem with the IEP process. During an IEP meeting, case managers give parents a copy of the IEP.  School districts expect parents to read over it there and agree to it there.

To prepare for this meeting, I read over her past IEP and her progress reports. I wanted to be knowledgeable of what they expected of her and what services she was receiving. I came with questions I wanted to ask at the meeting based on the goals and objectives in her original IEP. There were objectives that Zelda was still working on based on her progress report and I had questions prepared based on that report.

Zelda mastered those goals, but no one told me. I proud of Zelda for making her goals but I wish I knew what they were before the meeting.  I didn’t have access to the new goals until the meeting.

Another shock came when they plan where they wanted to place Zelda for next school year. When Zelda started school in October, they planned on putting in the inclusion 3-year-old room in December, then it was the end of the year. Then it was to let her transition in the summer program. Now they say they want her to go to the preschool disabled 4-year-old class. I mean Did I miss something?   Zelda made her goals, but she is not moving her to her least restrictive environment or to what I thought was her least restrictive environment.

This frustrates me because I had the entire IEP team there this morning and new information and no time to process it. Now I have questions.

I want a working copy of the IEP’s given out to parents possible a week or more before the IEP meeting.. If everyone knew the contents IEP before the meeting, we could have more intelligent questions.

It’s not just this school district.  Schools have 7 to 10 days after the IEP meeting the parents to get a copy of the IEP.  It is better to receive a working copy before the meeting.  Parents are not the enemy. We are both on the same team. Both school and home want what is best for our student.

Something for parents to remember:

The school will make it sound as if you have to but you don’t. YOU DO NOT HAVE TO SIGN IT.  Why sign a document you have not had time to read it and understand it?  

You can request a copy of the IEP ahead of time. I am a teacher. This is not a difficult request.

UPDATE ON ZELDA

Going from the 3-year-old who couldn’t talk to the girl in the third grader whose biggest problem is talking in class brings tears to my eyes. She is an amazing child and has come so far. I can’t wait to see where life takes her.

 

Let me be me

Let me be me

Let me wear unmatched socks

Let me sign in the shower

And dance while I’m cooking

Let me be me

In all my odd behaviors

In all my rash moments

Call me eccentric

Call me odd

Call me anything but let me be me.

Let me paint. Let me write

Let me sing and let me dance

Let me make a fool of myself

Let me laugh at myself

Let me be me

The Morning

 

The alarm resounds in my head and I grumble and moan.

It pulls me from my slumber with a start.

My blankets wrapped around me keeping me warm as the cold morning air hits me.

 

I pull the covers over my head.

It can’t be morning already.

I want to hide from everyone and everything.

Just lay and look up at the ceiling and dream.

 

I want to hide from the world and pull the blankets closer.

The cold morning air wakes me, but I retreat under the covers.

Never leave the warmth and safety of the bed

Just lay and look up at the ceiling and dream.

 

I lay alone with all my thoughts,

The quiet in the morning

No one expecting anything from me

In this quiet time, oh the thoughts that come

 

Alas I must rise, each day the same

Running a race that never ends

 

Let me pull the covers back over my head.

The race never ends, just to take some days alone with my kids.

No work, no stress, just me and my kids.