Before you were conceived you were loved

Dear Future Babies

I know this is weird, a random old post from before you were conceived but I dream of you everyday. I can’t wait to watch you grow up, learn and explore with you, see the world the way you do. I can’t wait for the grey hairs, the sleepless nights or the feisty attitude I know you’ll have. 

I’m sorry that I am not perfect and that I get fustrated at you sometimes and scream and yell, at these times I hope you know that I still love you more then you’ll ever know I’m just overwhelmed or scared. I hope your daddy is still around, that you have him wrapped around your finger and he’s your bestfriend, even though I’ll be jealous that I’m not. I hope he shows you how a woman is suppose to be treated and he’s more of a role model then a bad influence, that his faults don’t make you hate him but love him more because you understand he’s learning too. 

I wish you will never suffer from depression in silence or have to battle your demons alone, and that you know no matter how many things I have to do or how busy I may seem you are my first priority and if you need me I’m always there. Please never be afraid to tell me anything. I promise to never violate your privacy by reading your diary or messages, I know peer pressure and adolescence is a hard, confusing and scary time in your life and you need to make mistakes to grow; however I will try to protect you from this chaotic world as long as possible. I hope you never hurt another person intentionally, that you stay committed to one person and cherish their heart as if it was your own. I hope you stay away from drugs and alcohol as long as possible and keep your innocence until your older. 

But most of all I hope you are happy, healthy and know that I love you now and forever. 

Love your momma xox


Here’s a question Mrs Pro choice, if a piece of paper fell into a box does it become a part of the box? If micro organisms are considered life on other planets how is a unborn baby with a heart beat considered a clump of cells? If I parked my car in my friends drive way, would she have the right to make changes to my car just because it on her property? Would this debate on Pro-choice VS Pro-life still be around if we taught youth the basic’s of the human body starting young? If we gave teenagers in depth sexual education?

I am 100% Pro-Life, and I’m not afraid to admit that, I post anti-abortion pictures on instagram and I am not ashamed. I believe all lives matter black or white,
born or unborn we all deserve the right to our own bodies, even while growing in someone else’s. This baby was conceived, created and loved by god before you even realized is was there. There is always a reason something happens; planned or not that baby was sent to you for a reason. Aborting a baby because of a “health issue” is as disgusting as murdering a baby because they are sick. Human Babies can begin to feel pain as early as 7.5 weeks gestation  this is around the time a lot of women realize they are pregnant. The photo here shows human babies at 7.5 weeks, 9 weeks 12 weeks, 16 weeks, and 24 weeks all in which are legal to kill in Canada. As you can CLEARLY see they all have two tiny legs, two tiny arms and tiny little facial features. The very top photo is a baby born at 24 weeks; tiny but very much alive and human. I see no clump of cells or something that is disposable. I cannot stand looking at abortion pictures, so all these pictures are of miscarried and premature babies, however I’ve seen many pictures of aborted babies and I can’t even fathom the idea of it. The torn apart limbs, the lifeless tiny body, the life that was taken, the things he’ll never be. It just breaks my heart.

I understand that mistakes happen and that our system is already full of babies that have no homes, no families and end up in a bad place simply because their parents weren’t ready or didn’t want to be a mom but killing an infant isn’t the answer. We need to address the problem, the real problem; the lack of sexual education taught in schools. I barley remember our sex ed from high-school but I know it wasn’t in depth or even explanatory enough to debunk those stupid myths “You can’t pregnant when your on top” “hymens pop like a balloon and you bleed, A LOT” to name a few. A naive teenager will listen to their friend`s insane theories, they use shrink wrap as a condom, and they`ll believe that if they use the pull out method they will be fine. The truth is you can get pregnant in any position semen can live inside a body for up to a week, meaning even if you don`t think your ovulating or if you have sex in space if its meant to be, you will conceive. Hymen`s don`t always break, it is not a shield that covers that opening of the vagina, and some girl`s hymen`s never break. Pre-cum can contain sperm, and you can get pregnant by this. Nothing is completely safe and expecting a hormone crazed teenager to sustain from a normal human urge is like asking a dog not to clean itself in public, so that isn`t an option anymore. We live in a world that is full of sex, half naked men and women plastered on the front of magazines, billboard signs and of course television and music videos. What would help is if children and teenagers were taught proper sexual health education, a place where they can ask questions, get protection and understand not only their body but the opposite sex`s body as well. Not teaching or talking about sex doesn`t stop them, just like showing them how to properly put on a condom is not going to encourage pre-marital sex.

If we took care of this problem, taught people how to keep themselves safe and educated about their sexual well being and how to properly use condoms, spermicide, plan B and birth control we wouldn`t have so many unplanned babies, so many abortions, so many poor families, single moms and kids that end up raising themselves. Imagine how much money the government would save if they came out of the 1900`s and talked about the most human thing a person could do.

Being pro-life doesn`t mean I am ignorant, or that I do not understand that a person has rights, or that I think all women should just have babies, clean the house and be a maid for their family; but if you make the choice to be irresponsible you should be prepared to pull your big girl panties on and fight like hell to give you unborn baby a chance at life, whether it is with you, or a couple that cannot have kids.

But what about babies conceived out of RAPE

Being a victim of sexual assault I know that we aren`t always comfortable talking about what happened, but rape is a serious matter. Pregnancy should be the least of your worries and you should head to an hospital as soon as possible to get STI and HIV tests as well as Plan B, you can choose to do blood test instead of vaginal swabbing if you are uncomfortable with anyone touching you. That`s another reason we need to start teaching the next generation on boundaries and make sex not such a taboo topic, people do not realize that by hiding the normality of sex is actually causing more harm then good. A woman who embraces her sexuality is shamed and judged on her clothes, actions and life. If she wears a skirt that is short, a shirt that`s low or dark make up they are told they are “asking for it”. Let me tell you something, no one asks to be raped or sexually assulted, no one wants to carry that around, the dirty feeling, the self hate; no one wants that. By teaching boys to respect a woman you will teach them that they do not have a right to a woman’s body no matter what she wears or looks like.

It’s her body and her choice, if shes content with her decision it’s not your problem

Wrong-o neighboureeno.

The womb the baby is living in is the mothers, but the body inside the womb is NOT hers, It is not her’s to kill or hurt or make decisions for. She allowed a man to ejaculate inside of her, that was her choice. She was irresponsible and didn’t use emergency contraception the morning after, that was her choice. She waited until the baby formed into a baby to decide she wasn’t ready, which again, was her choice. Her choices brought her to the family planning aisle, her choices lead her to the place she ended up. Do you trust her choice? I don’t. If she can’t choose the right things for herself in the moment, like condoms and plan b, then she shouldn’t have control over something that never asked to be born in the first place. God doesn’t grant miracles everyday and you should feel blessed to be trusted with a baby, some of us aren’t lucky enough to have kids. Her choice to terminate her pregnancy, hurts not only herself but her family and friends, her partner, his family and the doctors and nurses that have to live with the unpleasant and heart wrenching memories that haunt them because that tiny baby is now bits and pieces in a surgical vacuum.  Her choice hurt a dozen people, is it still not our problem? Also, she may believe she is content with the decision she made, but it will big her later on. My mom had an abortion thirty years ago and it hurts her to talk about to this day.

Everyone is going to do what’s right for them, and without change we are never going to be able to stop the innocent murdering or unborn infants. This starts with changing the way people look at sex ed, the way parents react to innocent questions. We cannot expect the world to agree on something as important as a women’s right to abort an unwanted baby, but I hope in time that choice isn’t as needed, that we learn to protect ourselves because we have to revert to this.

I am Donna, and I am pro-life.

Six months.. 

For everyone else today is just a Monday, the start of another week of school or work. Another sunrise and sunset, another day the earth moves around the sun. But for me and my family today marks half a year, 6 long months without a part of our family; A grandpa, a dad, a husband and a friend. I can’t believe how the time has flown, I swear it was just yesterday We took turns sitting by his bed saying goodbye, but then again I swear it was just yesterday that he was down in the garage working on an old car or truck.. Time escapes me I suppose.

Time.. An invention of the human mind to track days and years.. Something I wish I could turn back. I would give anything to go back to the time in this photo, to enjoy his jokes and memorize his heathy, happy face and voice.. It’s been years since I’ve heard it.
Hold your love ones close, because you never really know how different life is when they’re gone until it happens.
It’s such a blur, the day my dad left this world.. I woke up with no motivation to go to work, work was my happy place at the time so I didn’t understand the dreadful feeling that overcame my entire body. I dragged my feet to get out of bed, to straighten my hair, to get dressed. I sat partly ready on my couch and my mind raced with words I needed to get out, put on paper or in words somehow. That’s how I started blogging, the intense feeling that I had to share the real reason I was so upset about my dads decision, I thought I could handle it; but I knew my mom was loosing far more then my sister or I. I wrote, I cried, I spilt the words I wish I could of spoke about how losing my dad was less emotional then my mom losing her partner is crime and the love of her life. I wrote about his love for her, their memories I was lucky enough to witness and the pain and worry in my moms face everyday and every night. I wrote how he was an awesome dad, but he prided himself of being an amazing husband. They fought, hard hardships and downfalls but their love was deeper then any grave, ocean or disease. If I could pin point one thing he taught me it would be how a man should treat his wife. I then went to have a bath, to relax, and left my phone on the couch in the living room; from the bathroom I heard my phone ring and my heart stopped.
“Dad died” through tears my mom said, her voice cracking and I went numb. This wasn’t suppose to happen, he was suppose to change his mind like he did before; he wasn’t dead I decided, this is a lie and it can’t be true. I had this false persona, that I was okay but the truth was I was pushing the feelings down cause I didn’t want to deal with the truth. I allowed myself to be bothered by situations that weren’t important, I lashed out and became distant because it was easier to be angry then weak. I would cry myself to sleep and act like I was dealing with it fine, I’d hurt myself just to feel something and I wanted to be dead. I wanted to be with my grandma, my great grandpa, my uncle doug and most of all my dad. I didn’t want to live, walk this earth without him here. I didn’t want to live with the pain that followed me everywhere. It’s ironic that I was the “strong” one the only one who understood why he was tired before he left, yet I was the weakest once he passed.. Irony.

It’s ironic that we are so naive, so un-trusting that we think we’ll feel a certain way no matter what people say.

It’s been a rough road, my entire world flipped upside down once the dread set in. I can’t pin point the exact date it hit me, but I remember getting picked up from work and wanting to ask my mom If she went to see dad. My mind whirled and every detail of the past months resurfaced and it hit me like a bus; of course she didn’t go see dad, dad is ashes in a box in the hallway next to our rooms. The next few days I went through what everyone else had already dealt with, the pain, the realization and the grief. No one really understood why now, after so many months it was effecting me so badly, I didn’t want to admit it was because I was in denial. I finally broke and spoke to my doctor, I began accepting the fact that he’s free of pain and that my pain is nothing compared to what he dealt with. There’s still days where I am weak and I am unable to deal with everyday life; my jealousy gets the best of me, my pain gets the best of me, but I cant let it get all of me. I can’t give up now, he would be so disappointed in me if I killed myself, made mom deal with more pain. I know that I will struggle with this for the rest of my life, but I hope it’ll get easier eventually.

Rest in Peace Daddy, I love you and miss you more then you will ever know.

Broken walls 

I’m instantly drawn to people who are lost, who are struggling with something bigger then themselves. Their souls intertwine with mine and I am engulfed in their pain; I find myself obsessed with getting us out of this place, healing this person I’ve become mentally one with. I think that’s my problem, I physically feel the sadness and pain of others. The pain is not mine, yet I can’t help but be effected by it. This is how I felt when my dad first passed, I did not cry for me but for my mom because I knew her pain was overwhelming. I am so consumed with other people’s pain that I can’t address my own demons, my own pain.

I use to think the worst feeling in the world was being physically alone, but now I know the worst feeling is feeling alone in a building full of people. 

I’ve come to the conclusion that, while I feel others pain and can empathize, I don’t trust anyone enough to open up completely to. I keep my vulnerability locked behind steel walls with the keys pressed closely to my heart where no human will ever touch. My very outlook on the world, on human’s as a species is undoubtly grim. We are fueled by the notion that we are happy with what we have, until something better arrives; until we are bored, or trust was broken. We hide behind the screens of our phones, tablets and computer screens idolizing false reality of greener grass. We spill our unfiltered hearts and dreams to people, people that may cheat on you and tell you it’s your fault, that they never loved you or that you are crazy. How can I find the courage to trust a person when I am so aware of the impeding doom that may lay before me.

But how can I judge an entire world by a few people’s choices? How can I hold Joe Blow accountable for John Do’s mistakes, the wounds that aren’t from 12507306_1055527871186745_1375600450009688696_n.jpghis words and actions? How can I expect to find love and have children when I am so cynical and cut off?  I am not naive to believe that all men are the same, that they all only want one thing however I am wise enough to know a good majority would rather act their shoe size then their age. Mind you, I shouldn’t only throw shade on males, females are sneaky and manipulative and are just as immature as their counter partners. I know many females that walk away, that give up on people, that cheat and play games. I have encountered women that run from their families, abandon their children for the same reasons a male would. I know women who pride themselves on sleeping around, who are proud to have babies from different daddies, who live their lives a way I never knew a women would want to; But I have strong opinions on gender roles, and maybe that’s why it surprises me when women act the way a male would.

Yes, I’m a female who thinks a woman’s place is in a home raising children. That a man should make more money, should work and should provide for their families. I do not believe that a women that chooses to be a mother should be involved in a 40 hour work week while her child(ren) are being watched by a person that is only doing it for a pay cheque, or stuck behind a computer screen doing work while their children rot their brains in-front of tablet or TV. Two people that decide to have children should do everything in their power to give their children a well balanced life, and there’s no balance in a daycare or being raised by an electronic device. 

There is a point to my rambling I promise.

Like I said, I’m drawn to broken people; I am overcome with the need to speak to someone I believe is struggling no matter how long its been since I had a conversation or seen them. I constantly worry and check on their social media sites hoping to see a change. This happened not to long ago, a dream set me spiraling down to an unknown place filled with people I didn’t recognize and landmarks I didn’t know. I ended up in a apartment with people from my past, brothers of a family I knew in my younger years and as I slept my mind raced with situations and outcomes I did not understand. The youngest brother, a kind boy in his youth before the world crashed before him, was the main focus of this dream. I know, as I still speak to his sister and periodically him as well, that he as substance abuse issues and been in trouble with the law on more then one occasion. He was struggling in my dream, he was hiding from the law, he was lying to his family; his family that was in the other room emotional because of his actions. I have dreams that don’t make sense often and usually i forget them shortly after I wake up, however this dream  was different. The details were burned into my head and I was consumed with what it meant, I still am. I checked his social media for a week before finally just reaching out to him; the tormented feeling wouldn`t shake no matter what I did and I knew I had to do something.

He is currently in Detox.

His life had flipped upside down and he was days away from going into treatment when I reached out to him. He is the strong, thug sort of guy, yet every time we speak he breaks down his walls. He tells me things any other man wouldn’t, he explains his actions for things without hesitation and he shows his feelings. We sort of dated when we were 13 and his sister was one of my best friends, I was there when his dad passed, when his brother betrayed his trust and I guess I am comfortable. I am from a time when his life was a little simpler and he is from a time where my life was full. I guess we have a bond that I cant make sense of, an unwritten, unspoken binding that keeps us connected even through the years and miles apart. If a male, a broken human, and a man that made his living slanging drugs can break down his walls, can admit that he is wrong and can accept the help he needs to become the person his son deserves and in his words and so I can have a healthy relationship with someone If I wanna settle down”; If a person that has had nothing but bad situations thrown their way can look on the brighter side and I can’t? Why do I bury myself behind walls that are doing nothing but hurting me? Why am I allowing past mistakes, demons and fears scare me from living the life I always dreamed of?  It baffles me that still to this day I do not have a person I feel comfortable with, that I can tell the complete truth to, that I can show even the deepest and darkest corners of my  soul to, and yet I have become that person to so many people.

I hate my walls, the things I built to protect me have done nothing but isolate me, they have taken more then they have saved. I’ve lost so much because if and when I begin to let my walls open my mind freaks out and sends me into an anxious mess and I run. I need to learn to express myself, to allow my walls to crack and fall, to love myself, to allow others to love me; to live.

My third and final resolution for 2016 is to learn to be vulnerable without fear of judgement.

xoxo Donna.




Hi Everyone, I have had a recent spike in inactivity so I was thinking it is because I changed my blog address! If anyone has looked for please know that I have changed my address to is no longer active.

Someday’s I feel like a pebble resting peacefully on shore, happy and grateful; grateful to be in a beautiful place, to be alive, to have the sea gently tickle my toes. On bad days it feels like a storm. I’m still that tiny pebble sitting on shore, however the waves are now crashing into me knocking the wind out of me and pushing me under. My lungs fill with water, I gasp for air trying to breath but its impossible. The waves, the sea has a hold of me and I feel like I am dying. Its dark and cold, I am panicking and alone and in that moment of despair, the waves subside and I return to shore. I catch my breath, open my eyes and let out a sigh of relief. Just for a moment I am able to regain consciousness, fill my lungs with air rather then salt water, open my eyes without the salt water burning them and then the waves catch me again. Non-anxious, non-depressed people would say “Why don’t you just remove yourself from that spot if you know the waves will come?” Well, sane people it is because on those good days, the ones where the sun is shining on the ocean and the breeze is gentle, it is home; Its comfortable and calming. It is because the mud has dried up all around me and I am unable to move, I am stuck in this peaceful and horrific place.

Snap back into reality and I’m not a pebble, I’m not on some beach stuck because of mud, but that doom still overwhelms me.


 Life isn’t suppose to be easy, I know that. Our lives do not come with a instructional DVD or a perfectly laid out plan, we are not robots or characters in a scripted movie. We are all trying to find our place in this world, to find the purpose in our lives. We learn and grow everyday and this is ‘Life’.  But, someday’s that doesn’t help the feeling of dread and being stuck; being unable to leave a place, a mind set or a person that is beyond toxic to me, to my happiness. I am belittled and buried by things and people that do nothing but hurt me. I allow people and situations to control my mood. I take jobs, and do things that make me unhappy and hide my dread behind fake smiles and insincere remarks. I know running away doesn’t solve anything, I know I have people here that I’ll miss and that’ll hopefully miss me; but if I keep thinking of other people I will never get a chance to be selfish. Not selfish in the way that you may think, but putting myself first has never been my first priority and I think it’s time I do things that make me happy. I’m not getting any younger, happier or livelier being here; putting everyone else’s needs and wants before my own.

My second resolution this year is to put myself first. To do things that make my soul happy, that will help heal my broken spirit.


Hands up, Who made a New years resolution this year?

It’s a common tradition that we aim to change who and what we are when a new year starts, we make all kinda of promises to ourselves; Quit smoking, diet, work out, get organized, save money ect ect. But how often do we fall back into our normal habits after the novelty of the season ends? More often then not we fail to achieve these unrealistic expectations we place on ourselves. I say unrealistic because we are not a species that adapts to change well, most of us anyways. We give ourselves all these expectations and tear ourselves apart until we get them all done, all at once and if that isn’t a recipe for disaster then I don’t know what it.

Expectations ruin – whether you end that with relationships, situations or just life. Expectations are responsible for a lot of people falling into the evil hands anxiety, depression and self-wallowing. Why do we start a new year making promises that will just make us disappointed in ourselves if we do not get to where we think we will. I am the queen of expectations. I have lived in a world of “This is has to happen” for so long that I am unable to live in a world without expectations.

That’s my resolution for 2016, to have less expectations. That is kind of an oxymoron but I need to stop going into situations expecting something to happen that never will.

xoxoxo Donna