Shellon

Still ok here, each of gets a little hint of 'uhoh' every once in awhile, but we up the C's and water and Apple Cider Vinegar, I've been disenfecting doorknobs, remote, phone, etc every day. My 14 y/o gets her H1N1 shot friday, qualifies cuz of allergy induced asthma, so I'm happy about that; she's the one exposed to the crud at school. Went to walmart today and realized it would be easy for me to be a germ a phobic, no problem. Grabbing the cart handle, taking change from the cashier, picking up the items we purchased, the whole thing. I carry lysol wipes for things like cart handles, etc., but it's all out there. My daughter had a classmate sneeze in her face today. It's gonna happen...........sigh, nothing I can do but the best we can here at home.

No I don't think, generally, people speak favorably and yes I think they syndrome very much applies. One will do whatever one has to do in their given situation to survive and/or get by, to reach some "normal' that works until other options might arise. We, on the outside looking in to another's life, have no idea what has been said to them, what fear was instilled in their brain or what they believe of what they were told. Survival is a powerful thing. As for TWI, people honestly believe they don't have another option, they might have kids to keep a roof over, they might have to do whatever they have to do until they don't. I also think that it's not for anyone who's not lived their life to assume anything, judge any action or opine on them or their situation, be it a religious situation or other captivity.

It felt like the time span between my husband collapsing on our bed and the hours after he was pronounced dead, all of the most confusing, challenging things I'd ever heard any of them say had been thrown at me. Just believe God for him to survive this You can raise him from the dead. DO IT! Why are you not getting revelation, or is it that you are not listening, or it is that you are not believing. What do you want, your husband is not able to make the decisions, you have to for him. What is his weakness, why did this happen, where did you and he fail in your marriage that this should happen. You have to get in there and make them take care of him, this is a son of God we're talking about here and you are his wife! My mom brain continued to move as fast as my wife brain but neither as fast as my fear and confusion. People from Headquarters were calling since his two of my in-laws lived there with the Wiewille's;one with Mrs. W and one with Don and Wanda. I had no answers to the miriad of questions coming from all directions. I could see our babies, I could hear someone screaming "raise him from the dead" at me, I could hear hospital sounds. I looked at my 23 month old baby girl sitting in this busy-ness, coloring. I looked at my 15 year old baby girl looking back at me, imploring me to fix her daddy. Our Limb Coordinator, Bob Moynihan, had been on vacation fishing somewhere I think and when he showed up, I was somehow relieved to see him coming across the parking lot. I met him half way and he said only 8 words to me. "There is a difference between desperation and revelation". Well, ok, but I was desperate, so somebody better come up with some mighty fine revelation. This shi+ messes with people's minds. Martindale was doing a teaching on stage and was given a note and sent word that he was believing with us. Somehow that wasn't as comforting as I'm sure it was supposed to be. The one call I understood was Don Wierwille, as he said to me, standing there in the emergency waiting room "honey, what do you want to do?" Somehow it provided me immunity from making alot of immediate decisions about my husband, the father of my children! I answered "I want it to be over" and he said "then it is". As simple as that, the end. What the HE!! did that mean? Where the fu(k was God, really. Was he in my heart, was he in Bob's body while they shocked his heart, shoved tubes down his throat and injected him with heart attack stopping drugs? Where was God when I was performing CPR on the man I'd promised to love, cherish and live a life with? Where the he!! was God when, just moments before, my husband stood at the end of our bed in front of me and said "my chest is caving in, pray for me right now". Five minutes before that, he had been lying down on our couch, resting, we were going to go shopping for a toddler bed after lunch. I prayed, but didn't get very many words out of my mouth before life shifted. Where was God when the doctor did his "we've done all we can do and I'm sorry but.." speech in the middle of the waiting room with total strangers staring at us. Was God in our lives or had we been abandoned and left to the foolishness of men who knew nothing of him. I had been asking God for about 4 years to 'get us out of here'. Was this the answer and if so, I wasn't interested, thank you very much. I would have given 15 years of faithful prayer back if I could have told my babies 'Daddy is sick but he's going to be just fine' I would find out where God was and I was to find out within hours where the men and women who bragged about speaking for Him were. Yes there is a big difference between desperation and revelation and i was about to see it live and in color.

Oh my goodness ! We had SO much fun at waydale. Hours......hours! in chat every day. Never missed a day and friendships were forged there. When my oldest would go MIA again and again, folks in chat would comfort me, we'd laugh and tell stories about our families until she came home again. No one ever left me alone during the rough days of finding my feet as a single/only parent. When the first lawsuit was announced, I was in chat and Radar O'Reilly came in to announce and I was there...........wow! Rascal's went into labor while we all sat in rapt anticipation and hung in there til the child showed up. Someone boiled water, we all hollard "PULL!" and such mature thing. I think grand-daughter went into labor during a GSC chat. HA! Couples hooked up via waydale, we mourned deaths, celebrated new jobs, grieved shi++y days together, muddled through healing from a cult, we comforted through divorces. Life happened there.

Yup, George, be a friend to be a friend, all that stuff that really does work. Sometimes and I agree, if one can live with ones own self, life is a little more comfy. Relationships take work, time, thought, understanding, listening, both giving, both considering the other, both nurturing the friendship/relationship, etc. But yes, I agree, if s/he doesn't take care of their own self, I'd gventure they won't have a lot to bring to any type of relationship. I understand this more and more, finally.

Loved reading this last night ! This goes a long way, too, in further setting precedents for this kind of action and behavior.

Hi Copenhagen, thank you and ya know, I AM better from all of it. I hope that in all things in my world, I take what I need from whatever it is and apply it how it fits into the new situation. Experiences and 'oh shi+' that might apply somewhere. The girls and I developed a new normal that has worked really well for us and we've grown and continued on into good things. Their father is greatly missed and his memory is sweet in our lives; we were very fortunate to have had him as husband and father. I have to credit Jeff (our own JeffSjo) here, in that his comfort and love gives me confidence to know I'm supported and understood, no matter what. I'm really not sure I could have told what I have so far without his unconditional care. The story has not ended here and I hope you'll continue to read, copenhagen.

I don't really get the "move on" thing. Nor do I understand that "just get over it" one too either. Worse, I don't ever understand someone telling another when it's time to do either. How the he!! would I know if you're ready to do something and why should I get to choose? Oh yeah, and the resentments that will be festering into an ooozy pus when someone stops taking care of something they still need to just for another person. I don't wanna be nearby when that one blows.

What strikes me, clayjay, in your words is how often you say it seems to you, which is your right, of course, but consider...... The best part of being free to choose is in the choosing and not feeling like we have to any further allow someone else to tell us our choice is wrong, why it's wrong and what will happen to us in our foolish wrong. I hate raisins, I mean detest them. Doesn't mean you shouldn't enjoy them and reap whatever it is you need; nutrution, health benefits or simple enjoyment. Heck, if you were a guest in our home, I'd even serve them to you if they were a fave of yours. I just wouldn't partake. Same with Greasespot Cafe.

Remind me to keep my balloons away from you Cool that we each get to choose where we spend our time eh?

Kelly was a planned home birth with daddy, the midwife, big sister and my mother in attendance. Healthy pregnancy and amazing delivery of our beautiful child. She was born with part of her intestines outside of her body, so that required some medical intervention and then teaching us how to properly care for her. And she was a colic baby so she screamed for about 3 months. Straight. All the time. was the sleep deprived, exhausted look on at least my face all the time. But else a sweet good baby and we found ways to be creative in sleep and adjusting to a new baby in the house while also learning to live with a teenager. Yikes. We were traveling 4 hours to Limb functions every 2-3 weekends and it was taking a toll on our little family with a newborn baby, so we moved to Little Rock, easing life quite a bit and at this point our marriage was at a pretty good place, our teenager was doing ok and our new baby was an 8 month old. I was able to stay home with her, we were not running a fellowship in our home for the first time in so long; it was such a relief to just go to one, come home and keep moving along. Bob's brother in law was offered a job as Superintendent of a job in Orlando, Florida building a mall and he wanted to hire Bob as his assistant. This was the first and I think only time I didn't automatically ask 'when do we have to be there, I'll start packing' and hit the speed dial for U-Haul. Something bad was wrong with this picture; really bad and while I couldn't come up with exactly what, it was very clear to me that our moving this time was wrong. I was over ruled, he moved on ahead of us while I started packing up our house for the move, he found a house for us to rent outside Orlando and started a very high stress, long hours job. A month later he flew home for a fast weekend, we were ready and we left, me all the while carrying this "something's wrong here" in my heart. A wife is to follow her husband, right? Even if the idea is about as wrong as it could ever be, she's to stand mute and hopefully nod in all the right places. At least in TWI's framework of us that was truth. I did express repeatedly "this is so not good" but I was instructed to believe God, trust my man and load up my babies. He grew increasingly irritated with my concerns and wished I'd just back him up and be happy. I backed him up. We arrived at our new home outside Orlando on May 5, 1997 and he died on June 8, 1997.

Since this is the place where I get so much of my information, I'm curious your feelings on friendship. Is it one who will hold your hair or rub your back and laugh too much at 2 am while you unload the contents of a night of partying? The one who you know you can call at 3:30 am cuz you've been awake stressing about something and know s/he will get it? How about someone you can trust your children with on a moments notice or even for a weekend and know they'll come back to you the same kids? Might it be someone you can trust, far past 100% with everything you tell them, seriously, they won't tell a soul. A person you can invest your emotions in? One who will call when your sick to make sure you've not died and then come over and clean your house, bathe your kid(s), fix supper and put a load of laundry in before they go home to their own house, family, suppper and laundry? Is a friend one who will actually show up with the bail money? For me, all that stuff is pretty, but I first go for honesty and the strength of my friend(s) to have the stones and courage to tell me straight and receive same. Else, to me at least, all the rest won't be worth any more than the time spent wishing for it. Just me being curious.......

The girls, Samantha age 15, Kelly age 2 about 3 months after their daddy's death

We moved again into a shared house and continued to work on our marriage and family and on July 7, 1995 I gave birth in our home to our second daughter, Kelly Rene' North. She was born 7/7 and she weighed 7/7 so one might imagine what was done with that...... We had no way of knowing in 2 years Bob North would be dead.

I believed that, too but knew that if I broke it and spilled it's contents the cost would simply be too high. Every cost that I could see would be too high in my family. Today I will never live like that again. Today I talk too much, I go into meetings and insist on being heard, I confront and welcome same. But getting here was a rocky road and the loss was still great.

It's been asked of me, twice, of whom I am speaking here in these statements. The conversation I overheard was between W*y*ne C*app and another who's name I have never known nor face I recognized discussing who was to be Craig Martindales next female companion; not an uncommon practice during Mr. Martindale's tenure as President of The Way International. The note given me the next day was from Martindale, written on the back of an envelope. I understood alright and I followed his suggestion, an action I regret.

Please do, grand-daughter. I completely understand that trepidation, the concern about not hurting anyone, even with truth, and it provides a time to get things settled in your own heart as to what to share and not. Only you know that time and remember it's your story. I'd love to hear it if you'd wish to share it. It's unique to you and your life and that, alone, makes it a great read if I may be that flip about it. You might tell it and never hear a word from those that relate while they but ponder it and apply it and it settles somewhere in their heart and life as "she's telling my story!" and receive something good and healing from it that might give them the reassurance that they're ok, you understand and there is hope. Even just a silent and private assurance that they're not as alone as they thought. I think a telling of a story is, indeed, to help others, but first it's for the teller to release and disclose and in the telling things sort out for YOU. When you're ready..... You have, here, the additional support of your friend Jeff who can back you up and encourage and understand like maybe none of the rest of us can. Bonus!

"If it's there, I gotta find it" became my mantra, but the bigger issue was that even if I did find it, I was not going to do anything with it and I never could reconcile the two facts. For me to take on a Nancy Drew canter could only get me in even more deep shi+ and certainly wasn't going to afford me the comfort of protecting Samantha or keeping life palatable for my husband. I wonder, now, why it was so easy to come up with a reason not to do something. 1994 was such a tenuious, even pernicious time in The Way Ministry; such a turning point in terms of so many things being on the cusp of discovery, Martindale and his loyal crew had several bugs up their azzes about homosexuality and "clean 'em out, expose 'em for the vile they are". My brother is gay, so I knew that, given the pulse of the "purge" our relationship as siblings was fixin' to be compromised. It was a matter of time, and the time did arrive in my face. I was given a choice of removing him from my life or risk losing so much more. I knew that my brother was aware of TWI's feelings on his life's choices and we'd always been able to find ways to stay in touch and he knew that I wasn't buying it but rather going along to save myself and my family; we didn't discuss it, it was just known. I was told I had to call him and there was to be someone there to witness my cutting my brother out of my life "in case you try to pull a fast one". I was told to get this poison, this devil spirit, this chronic problem and clog to my goodness from God out of our lives; how could I possibly continue to think it was ok to expose my child to my brother, even if only on the phone. Now, my brother and I had always been very close and we'd shared a lifetime of each others' worlds. He picked up on my little problem instantly and we played the game. I said I had to no longer have him in our lives, surely he understood why and I threw in some ugly stuff about how the devil spirits he was full of were poisoning my family. He said that he understood what I was doing. Note: he didn't say he understood what I was saying; that was the key for me to know that he got it. We decided that if we needed to communicate in so far as a family emergency, he would do so through our mother who would then call the head of my home who would then inform me if he so found it valid. We then stayed in touch via payphones from then on, pre-arranged ahead of time. What a sorry state to have to be in, and I remain thankful for my brother and all of my family for being patient while I lost my head and did stupid stuff in the name of not making waves. Living like this took it's toll on my body and mental health as I lost an unhealthy amount of weight, was constantly looking over my shoulder to determine whom might be making sure I was behaving myself. Sounds paranoid, I understand, and was, but they told me to be sure I understood I would be constantly held accountable and observed; it was all I had. There was also the issue of trying to have the baby I wanted so badly and couldn't seem to conceive, taking the responsibility on myself, solely. Bob didn't know how to help me, communication ground to a silent and painful halt and we went through daily motions that might have resembled a healthy family serving God and responsible for others. By this time we are having to see doctors secretly, since not being pregnant now after almost 10 years, we must be doing something wrong, as in not believing God for a baby. Also because of my drastic weight loss and stress, my menstrual cycles were even more goofed up and I lost track of ovulation; the one control I had over any of this process. We ended up seperate again, which was the harshest of insults, even though it was my idea, given our situation of lack of control over everything in our lives, our obvious lack of connection as a married couple, and our glaring lack of believing to get our poop in any group. The way it was explained to me was that I had "walked out from under my umbrella of coverage and protection" by this action. What I wanted, again, was to be left alone to consider and think and actually understand where I fit in my marriage, in my environment, certainly in this ministry that I couldn't understand no matter how I dressed it up. I was no longer allowed to assist my husband with a twig and in fact he was no longer allowed to be a twig coordinator, either, since it was so clear that he couldn't even keep him own wife under submission. I took a little apartment close to where my husband was living and we decided, eventually to date occasionally, to back way the he!! up and talk about things, about us, about having a baby, about those vows we'd really meant 10 years prior. Now, however, we were away from the glaring eyes of leadership, family, doctors and having given up on the dream of getting pregnant if this was what it was going to cost. We got pregnant. New problems. I was 34 years old with a negative Rh factor in my blood, weighed about 98 pounds and our marriage was clearly not at a place to have this child. My new mission was to pull it all together no matter what it took, the end of discussion.

Wow, is all that a blast from the past!

Much like my wedding, I spent alot of the Advanced Class in tears. I'm sure my shrink would have his thoughts on this reality. The only real thing I took from that experience in Rome City, Indiana was from some guy who found me one morning sitting on a bench, crying. He sat down on the bench, never said a single word, took my hand gently and just sat there. He didn't say 'lets pray, lets speak in tongues, what the freak is the matter with you' nothing, not a single word and I am yet so very thankful for that; he just sat there holding my hand. Then after some time, he rose and left. I wondered later if he was mute like me or why he'd not spoken, like me. A few days later, I was wandering around the grounds and settled on the grass to watch a basketball game going on. Pretty soon, I felt a hand on mine again and it was him. Again, not a word, just silence, his hand gently on mine, then gone. A third time, I was back on my bench and then he showed up. My trust issues were not yet what they are now, so I didn't freak out, but I surely was curious. I finally spoke, sharing my confusion on why he kept showing up to comfort me and by the way who the he!! are you. He grinned a little and said "My name is L*oyd Bi*shop, I'm here for this class too, and I need you to know that I understand". I fell into his arms and sobbed, my body wracking, while he but held me and said nothing further. Then he left and I never saw him again. I've always wondered why I never thought to look for a name tag or search the sea of faces in the classes or events; I guess it didn't matter. I do know that I messed up his white shirt badly in my crying and I've never forgotten that too. Maybe it just reminds me that God puts me where I need to be and/or others in my life where they need to be and it's as simple as that. During another of my wanderings during that class time, I opened a door that I obviously had no business opening to overhear the campus coordinator and another arranging the next woman for our esteemed leader. Later I found, on my bed, a note from said leader about how thankful he was that I understood the lockbox principle. It was 1993, I already knew I was in some deep shi+ but this clarified to me that none of our boots were high enough. I returned home, an Advanced Class grad and said nothing. I think of L*oyd often.

The Way Corps ! Me, yeah right, that's a dumb idea if ever there was one. The point was and remains that dumb or brilliant wasn't the point; two other family members had entered the program and our application and acceptance and entrance was the next step in this, of course we'd do that. No baby, again. There were meetings about my "obsession with having another child" and what was I going to do about getting past that and back on the tracks of understanding that sometimes this was the way God works, obviously I wasn't being healed from my reproductive problems, my believing was as weak as it could get in this area. Bob was ok if I wanted to give up, he was diggin' fatherhood of Samantha and our lives on the outside were lovely. I realized, suddenly, that I didn't want him to be ok with giving up, I wanted him to want this more than we'd ever wanted anything in our lives together. This was also a time when we had a fellah in our twig that seemed, to me, like he was ripping people off. I didn't have a solid reason, just my instinct. It bugged me enough to screw up my courage and talk about it. "This guy is up to no good, I know it and I want him away from our house, our child". Of course this was so much not the first time there were people in our home because we had fellowship in it. The homeless population where we were then living was much less, but we brought strangers home nonetheless and often they landed on our couch for a night or 17. I paid extra attention to the teachings about the wife/mother being the one in the home and family to notice things that seemed amiss and alert her head; my husband and it was his responsibility to believe me cuz that's the way God set it up dontcha know. I could not get this one guy out of my mind, he was up to something and I knew it, period. Sadly I was stifled (wow, weird flashback of Archie and Edith right there). So I began my own personal investigating, uncovering a love and talent I didn't know I had of finding information. My husband would leave for work, Samantha would leave for school, I'd do whatever chores I needed to get done and then settle in to find out what the he!! it was that was bugging me so badly about this man and before long it was another person and then another in someone else's twig. In a few days I learned that the one that first strirred something in my belly had been doing construction scams all over town and in my search for info., I learned I was certainly not the only one looking; some were actually looking for him to get their money back and most were not happy. One of the people I suspected of innappropriate behavior with children and what I uncovered didn't even begin to break the surface of what he'd been doing. I developed a sort of system as a mother. I think many of us did, and perhaps some dad's too. My sole goal was to protect her no matter how creative I had to be to get it done. If it was insisted upon that someone I wasn't sure of were to stay in our home, I stayed awake all night, things like that; if I had to have stranger in my home, I was going to know exactly where they were at all times in relation to my child. If things were going down in TWI in our area and I knew I would going to have to be there for a meeting to "discuss this matter", I tried to field as much as possible ahead of time and arrange for her to stay with someone not involved or convince those who needed convinging that I could catch up after if someone took good enough notes. What I needed as much as her not having to stay with "believers" was for her to not be exposed to anything, as much as was in my power to do so. It must have worked, 'cuz for years after we left, I'd be telling her something about her dad that involved TWI and she'd have no memory of the event, the meeting, the person or the outcome. The toughest part, then and still, was that it really didn't matter if I knew something about someone that should raise alert or concern; nothing was going to be done and wasn't. We were to love the unloveable, heal the unhealable, feed the flock, minister to the needs of the needy, the end and if I wanted to get the benefits, I'd damn well better stop this nonsense of not trusting people. To keep me busy, it was determined that it was time to take the Advanced Class in preparation for going Way Corps and I had enough to do in study for that. I was to use my time more wisely, quit stressing about a baby, attend to my marriage and child and be the best helpmate I could possibly be.

Thank you, ladies and Jeff. It's difficult for me to find my story interesting sometimes; it's just my life and I think others' lives are interesting! If it is inspiring then I'd love that and if someone else "out there" is living a life of total compliance and going along just to get along and they might think, "oh he!! if SHE can do it I can", whatever it might be to them. I love that we get to learn something, hopefully, everyday and each day we make the choice to keep moving in a forward direction, taking into it what we figured out from before; good or not so much. This time in our marriage was really good and there was some sort of respite feel in TWI after the 86-87 time of clusterphuck. I described it once as everyone being too exhausted to fight anymore, even if I knew that wasn't the case; just some quiet for a little bit. Bob and I had come back to the place of getting pregnant again, even if it took me a little longer in the trust area of seeing it through to actually holding an infant. I wanted a baby badly enough and I knew he did too. We had never any issues of "one of my own", thankfully; Samantha was his daughter, the end, so that helped me be as sure as I needed to be about us having a child; I needed us not to have even a breath of step child, half sibling, none of that, ever. We were a family. Just as I typed that and read it, something went on in my heart that I hadn't realized until just this moment. We were not a family in the sense that I had expected and it had nothing to do with conception of a child or a marriage license. I had an idea that my family would be boring and simply normal in the sense of a mom, a dad, a couple of children, a couple of jobs, homework, chores, bbq's and drinks with friends once in awhile. We did all that. The exception for us was that we never really did it alone. Our family choices and decisions were shared or disclosed to other family members or in twig or, worse, made because ! of other family members or twig. Our friends were people in TWI, not necessarily those we might have chosen otherwise to share our lives. We worked in jobs that had to fit in the outline of fellowship and all TWI activities. The way we talked was routed around others in TWI. Getting pregnant would be nothing less, I should have seen that one coming. The first problem was it now, when we started on a more serious journey it was another 2-3 years later and no baby in our arms. We spent some time discussing Adoption and did a little bit of research therein, but settled on not going that route given the waiting time period of up to 8 years for a healthy white newborn. (this time period would prove to be silly to consider too long) Why not apply for a less easily placed child, you ask? Yeah, I did too. Because of the problems that would come with that child that might be driven by devil spirits. Were we prepared to accept a child that had been severely abused in every way possible, love him or her as our own and never give up no matter what? I thought I was but it was made clear to me that the ministry wasn't and I did give much thought to what I was now seeing happen to other children with problems or those with any defiance issues, in TWI. The first time I participated in a metting where it was agreed that the teenage daughter of another twig coordinator had to be put out of her house because she refused to obey I dropped the issue. There was a friend who knew of a pregnant teenager who did not want to keep her child at it's birth and we considered an open adoption but I didn't feel the birth mother should have to accept our sometimes gypsy lifestyle for her baby and I just couldn't ask her. I did help her go through other portfolio's of couples wanting to adopt her baby and she settled on a lovely family and as of 8 years ago when I talked to them, it had always gone very well for everyone, most importantly the child. We sold my car to finance four cycles of Invitro Fertilization, we qualified for shots that Bob gave me, we tried me taking Clomid pill, which we knew could produce multiple births even though tests showed I didn't ovulate every month and if I did, the egg was "minimally viable". We considered donated eggs, which always made me giggle for some reason. We had gone to medical offices where Bob had to go into a little room with adult magazine and/or videos to deposit sperm for testing, we had allowed and paid unbelievably amounts of money to have our sperm and egg fertilized in a dish by someone in scrubs and then implanted into my uterus, I had freaky and debilitating side effects from the shots and Clomid and using someone else's egg was weird?? We did get pregnant again the old fashioned way, but I lost that baby at week 12. This was when the news on tv became no longer allowed in our house. Everytime they reported on a newborn discovered in a dumpster or they told the story of some sonuvabitch abusing a child, I would be beyond upset and it effected my mental health in ways there was no balm for, I don't care how many people "gave me the word" or told me to keep believing that there was a baby for us, if I was just patient. Pregnant women pizzed me off, seeing newborn babies sent me to bed for the rest of the day. I think I was pregnant at least two more times and miscarried, but since my menstrual cycle was a maze of rollercoasters, we were never exactly sure, as by then my periods were more of a hemorrage alot of the time. We tried a birth control pill for 12 cycles to regulate me, then I'd miss one or two on purpose here and there in hopes of that missed pill being the result of a pregnancy. A ton of babies are birth control babies, right? We did ovulation kits purchased from Walmart, which are really wonderful, by the way, if you need that kind of thing. Using that and basal temperature monitoring, sometimes I'd call the man from the job site and hollar "I'm ovulating!" and he'd cutass home and we'd hurry up and try to make a baby. I'd prop alot of pillows under myself after making love and lie there for as long as possible to "hold those boys in" we called it. Sheesh! Somewhere in this mess we agreed to call our Limb Coordinator every time we were about to make love so he and those he called on the "list" could be praying for us, speaking in tongues for conception, then we'd call him again after. Yeah, I know! But we wanted a baby that badly and it became somehow funny most of the time. But for the most part all of this clinical process in our marriage and intimacy took a profound toll, communication breakdowns were constant and although the timing couldn't possibly be any worse, someone in a leadership role suggested we consider entering the Way Corps Program. Then I got bit by a brown reculse spider at the Rock Of Ages and nearly lost my leg. http://www.greasespo...came-to-dinner/

So far so good in our house. We've had a day here and there of "uhoh, something" but we're so full of herbal stuff and vitamin stuff, maybe that's why it's been only brief and sporadic. At least I'm hopeful, some of this stuff I'm seeing it sounds like no matter what, when it get in, it's in. Our school has been closed since tues and plans to re-open tues cuz of such high staff and student absences; hope closing is the answer. A friend and her son has the H1N1 stuff and she said consider the stomach flu and bronchitis and upper resp. infection and being run over by a dump truck and I'd have some idea how they feel.

Intermission for a couple of days.