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Remembering


pregnancy-loss-ribbon

Lately I have been thinking of the babies I lost due to miscarriage. These two little babies have been on my mind constantly for the past few days and I suppose that has pushed me to want to say a few things. I have three living children ages 6, 4, and 2. They are amazing kids, they push my buttons, but also push me to be the best person I can be. I have known many people who believe that because I have these 3 beautiful children my miscarriages shouldn’t really affect me. How I wish this was true.

Because I have these three awesome children I can’t help but think what those little angel babies would be like today. Would they be sassy? Mellow? Make me laugh? I wish I could know what their snuggles would feel like and what their first words would be. I will never hear their first cry, or be responsible for their first smile. I will never have to try to hide my tears on their first day of kindergarten or argue with them about cleaning their rooms.

I look at my children and while I hurt for the angel babies I will never know, I feel blessed to have the life I do. There are many women who never see their dream of a baby come to fruition and my heart aches for them. I wish with everything I have that they will know what it is like to love a child and have that child love them back.

I suppose the purpose of speaking out about this is to let people know that every woman who goes through a miscarriage carries those wounds on her heart forever. Carrying a baby in your womb and never meeting them takes a toll on anyone who has experienced it. So…be kind, be empathetic, and never devalue a person’s life experiences.

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Update


My computer bit the dust….and with it all of my writing. My hard drive is completely fried and I can’t even try to get stuff off it. Pictures, music, works in progress, classwork…MY LIFE 😦 Technology-1 Ashley-0. On top of that my head is so consumed with the American Psychological Association’s Ethics Code that my creativity is dwindling at a dangerously low level. *sigh* 

On a better note I have managed to still maintain my 4.0 GPA two classes into my Masters degree. My wonderful (and equally cuckoo) family is trying to buy a house and I am trying to convince my husband to add to said wonderful (and equally cuckoo) family. 

I hope all of you are doing marvelously! Comment and let me know what craziness is going on in your life!!

~Ash

why?


This project was flowing from me like water……why haven’t I been working on it??? Hope you enjoy 🙂

 

The first time he did it…it was dark, raining, and lightning was crackling through the clouds. She felt his hand connect with her face and she went down. Shocked and still hanging onto her bravery she picked herself up and flew at him with a rage she had never felt. When she heard him laugh she knew she had made the biggest mistake of her life. In seconds she was up against the wall with his hand around her throat. She could barely see him except for when the lighting flashed; there was no escaping his strength.

            He leaned close to her ear and whispered “You don’t want to play this game with me”. He tightened his hand and then released her with such a quickness she had no time to get her bearings, instead falling to the floor in a heap of body parts. She sat there, silent, waiting for him to do something more, kill her perhaps. He simply turned and walked out of the room. With shaky legs she made her way to the bathroom and locked the door behind her. What the hell just happened? This was nothing like the man she knew.

            To afraid to come out of the bathroom she decided to run a bath for herself instead, at least she would have a reason to stay behind the locked door for as long as she could. Dumping in some lavender bath salts her mind was still reeling from his violence. As she slowly took her clothes off she peered into the mirror to check and see if he left behind any bruises. Her neck was still pink from where his hand had cut off her airway. Her cheek was burning and red like a lobster. Damn.

            The warm water cradled her like a baby and she lay there thinking. She was only 17 years old. She had left home when she met John, a shining star in this small town. He proclaimed his love for her and told her that he needed her to be with him, and her naiveté concealed any other facts she should have considered. It had only been about six months since she had shown up on his doorstep with a garbage bag in her hand and a backpack on her back. Everything seemed to be going nicely, she cooked, cleaned, did the laundry, and helped pay the bills with the little bit of money she made from working at the only coffee shop in town.

            She almost jumped out of the bathwater when she heard the light tapping on the bathroom door. “Elise, unlock the door honey. I am so sorry.” For what seemed like an hour she sat there, debating in her head if she should let him in. She pulled the plug in the bathtub and dried herself off. Cinching her bathrobe around her waist she apprehensively clicked the lock on the door and stepped back.

            John opened the door slowly and she could see the moisture around his eyes. “I am so sorry Ellie.” He walked over to her and lowered to his knees, pressing his head into her stomach. She stiffened, not wanting him anywhere near her. As he cried out his apologies he got into her mind just a little more. Her heart was starting to break for him, this man she loved so much in such a little amount of time. Surely he really was sorry. He couldn’t be faking such raw emotion, as he promised her over and over again that he would rather die than hurt her again. She laid a hand on the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair. He looked up at her, his eyes remorseful, and begged her to come to bed with him. She nodded and as he stood he grabbed her hand and led the way.

            She lay in bed staring at the red walls. She had never liked the color of this room, and after the events of the evening the color screamed danger. John was fast asleep, curled up around her so she couldn’t move without waking him. She wondered how he could sleep so peacefully as she felt his deep steady breaths against her body. Shaking her head gently she closed her eyes and vowed to herself to try to sleep as well .Elise had promised herself that if he ever hit her again she would gather her things up and hit the road.

 As the next year stretched on, the hitting turned to beating, and the red marks turned to deep purple bruises splattered across her body. Every time he cried and said he was sorry for hurting her. It had happened so many times, that she didn’t believe him anymore. Like a true experienced batterer, John knew where to hit her so others would never be able to see the marks. Elise tried to figure out what set him off so she could avoid his fists, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it, there was no stopping him. 

© Ashley M. Nee 2012


Thank you for sharing!

No Wasted Ink

Twitter HashtagWhen I first began building my author platform, I knew that one of the major social networks that I would need to use is Twitter. At first, I found this social media giant to be bewildering. It is a complex network of tiny conversations, ideas, links and news about everything and anything on the planet. Words were shortened into acronyms to save space. Ideas needed to be conveyed in only 140 characters. It was not long before I realized that Twitter has a sort of code, a language all of its own, that I needed to learn in order to use it properly. This code is known as #hashtags.

A #hashtag is a word starting with the # symbol that Twitter will pick up as a subject in its search engine. It is a sort of code that helps to group tweets based on an agreed meaning by a group…

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I quite enjoyed this

Sydney Aaliyah Michelle

Writing Assignments

In my quests for finding employment, I applied to a writing network and was accepted.   My first assignment is due on Friday. So, hyped about this. In addition, I have a guest post to complete by Friday and two chapters of edits due on Monday.

And, to top it all off,  I sign up for a Short Story Contest, which is due on Friday. This is where I need your help.  The contest sets heats and everyone in my heat for this first round has to write in the same genre and use the same character.  I thought is would be a great challenge until I saw the genre.  I have to write a fantasy story.  I don’t have anything against fantasy, I just don’t read it and don’t know much about the genre.  It’s not the same as science fiction, right?

Huge favor – share with me…

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Just Let Go


This is a song I wrote in 2008….I have it in MP3 and it is acoustic, thought I would share it with you all….the lyrics anyway 😉

 

Look at me

Through broken glass

See the love

That just can’t last

All the times we

Fought and cried

Tells me we’re living a lie

When is it time to just let go

Let the pain wrap around

And not be scared to show

That we’ve both moved on with life

And that we should have never let this

Slow us down

Time will only

Keep moving fast

And this thing was never built to last

So now fly free

Free to be

Whoever you couldn’t be with me

When is it time to just let go

Let the wrap around

And not be scared to show

That we’ve both moved on with life

And that we should have never let this slow us down

It’s ok to be hesitant

And never to want to take a step

But we just aren’t meant to be

There is nothing there when you say you love me

When is it time to just let go

Let the pain wrap around and not be scared to show

That we’ve both moved on with life

And that we should have never let this slow us down

© Ashley M. Nee 2008