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I Wish I Had Told Them To Stop But I Didn’t
Angelina would like to spread awareness of the dangers of Vacuum suctins in hospitals and we urge other mums that if they do not feel comfortable with something to speak out
Angelina said “I would like to help get the word out of what is going on. My son, Killian weighed 8 pounds and 9 ounces when he was born and due to that I could not push him out on my own because he would not fit through my birth canal, so they suggested a vacuum to help get him out. Well, they said it would be tried three times and if that did not work the doctor would have to perform a C-Section (which it seemed like he did not want to do for reasons unknown).
The minute the doctor applied the vacuum to Killian’s head and told me to push it popped off and splattered blood on his clothes and face, so he said it malfunctioned and did not count that as one of the three times he tried to use it. Another three tries went by and the vacuum kept popping off, now I was told that if it kept popping off and not working 30 minutes needed to go by before trying again, which the doctor DID NOT do, also if the device kept having issues the alternative was to be given a C-Section immediately not sit there and try to use the device again. Now my son has swelling in his head (which has gone down since birth) and skin missing from his scalp, I wish I had spoken out.
Killian, my handsome, you will get justice for what has happened to you. I hope you all have the kindness in your hearts to help get the word around. I am just not sure what else to do at this point”.
Written by Angelina tingle
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Ghost Child Playing With My Children
I thought I’d share another epic parenting fail with you all. I’m a mother of 7 children so these unfortunate events are part of daily life.
A few months ago I witnessed my 5yr old little girl talking to herself. Or at least I thought she was. I continued to watch her, and quickly realised she must have an imaginary friend. Aww bless her đ
The days go on and one tea time, I decided to up my parenting game, and offer to cook her imaginary friend a portion of spag bol too. Why not?
“Oh mummy don’t be silly, she’s dead! She can’t eat food!”
Holy shit on a cracker….She’s fucking what now?! (Didn’t actually say that part out loud)
“Thanks for offering though mum đđđ”
Fuck. Fuckety fuck fuck. Do we move house? Call a priest or just be done with it and burn the place down!. I’m equipped for a lot of childlike circumstances but the adoption of fucking Casper. absolutely not.
After I calm down, I ask my daughter some questions to try find out a little bit more about our new addition.
With confidence and zero fear, she proceeds to tell me her friend is the same age as her. She’s a little black girl. She loves summer. She’s allowed to play during the day but at night-time she has to go home. My daughter doesnt know her name so calls her Sally. (Ok… So at least I know we can sleep easy đ)
For weeks I watch my darling little psycho play with her dead friend. Sometimes my other children join in too. They can all see her which is even more terrifying. They chase each other, giggle and Love to play hide and seek.
Then one day I noticed that her “friend” wasn’t around as much.
Probing… I ask her where she’s gone.
“Oh she’s not around today cos you have the blinds shut”
Hmmmm. Thinking of all the last few months events I have a sudden brain wave and open the blinds.
“Mummy mummy she’s here she’s here!”
Omfg. I had spent weeks and weeks googling spirits. I watched hours of the ghost whisperer, looking up priests and dreaming about Ghost busters! For what?!….
Sally the fucking SHADOW! đą
Credit Michelle M Stewart
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Justice For Lily-My Last Photo Of My Angel
This is the last picture I will ever have of my baby girl. 5 years ago right now she was eating lucky charms with my dad when I told her we had to get dressed. She looked at me with tears in her eyes and said “why mommy?” And all I could do was say “I’m sorry baby.” I held her hand as she cried on the way to meet her “father”. She asked if we could go to splash village and I told her we would when there was snow on the ground. She asked if Barney could come to her birthday and I told her that he would. And the last promise I made her was that one day she wouldn’t have to go to their house.
We got to the meeting spot and she was crying saying mommy please don’t make me go. I just kept telling her I’m sorry baby and I love you and I will see you tomorrow. He took her and she continued to cry. He let her give me one last kiss and he walked away as she screamed and reached trying to get back to me. You never forget that sound. I went home to get things ready for her to come back. I was going to clean our room and meet my cousin Erica to give her some of Lily’s old toys. And I was going to go Christmas shopping.
I was at Walmart when my mom and dad texted they arrived at our cabin 3 hours away. They sent me a picture of a 3 foot princess stocking and told me to start shopping for stocking stuffers. I was in the stocking stuffer isle at Walmart at 3:01 pm when I looked at my phone and saw her “father” calling.
I picked it up and he said to get to the macomb general hospital right now. That there was an accident and Renee fell on Lily in the shower. I asked if she was ok and he said he didn’t know and to just get there right away. I left my cart and sped walked to the car thinking that’s it! She’s not going back. Thinking it was a broken arm or leg. I called my mom and she said to meet my uncle at my house and he would drive me. They were on their way.
So I pulled in my driveway jumped in the passenger seat as him and my cousin jumped in and we left. He drove as fast as he could trying to get their but it was rush hour traffic. Her “father” kept calling and saying where are you? I told him I was trying to get there as fast as I could but the hospital was an hour an a half away without traffic. I asked if she was ok and he hung up on me.
This continued a few more times before I called the hospital. I asked the nurse if she was ok and she said the words I will never forget, “I wouldn’t be telling you this over the phone but you need to get here. It’s bad. She’s been back there with the doctors for an hour and she has no pulse.” I don’t remember the rest of the ride. I remember asking my 14-year-old cousin to call everyone and ask them to pray. I should have never put that responsibility on her.
When we arrived at the Er they made my uncle move the car. Her “father” was standing outside smoking as I opened the door. My knees gave out and I couldn’t stand. I asked him if she was ok and he said no. I asked him if she was alive and he said no. My world came crashing down at that moment. When the detective came in later she asked what type of underwear was Lily wearing and asked if I helped wipe her that morning when she used the potty. I told her I did and she asked if there was blood. I told her no.
My mom said why are you asking these questions. The detective said because Lily was severely sexually abused preceding her death. We went home that night and sat in the car. How do you go back into a house that the one person who made it a home is never coming back? How do you go on when all your hopes and dreams are taken away? It was just supposed to be 33 hours, not a lifetime. To this day I hate when my parents go anywhere far away because I’m scared something is going to happen.
To this day I can’t go in that isle of Walmart. To this day I can’t wake up on November 20th and not replay every horrific moment. I miss you Lily to infinity and beyond always and forever and I will never stop fighting for you. So if you are still reading at this point please share Lily’s story today. Please make a choice to be her voice because there is no excuse for child abuse. And please hug your children a little tighter and longer as none of us are promised tomorrow. Thank you all for your support! God bless you! #justiceforlily #lilysvoice #30daysoflily
Update 11/26/18- Itâs been 3 years since I wrote this and this post still rings true. In the hardest days each year I am thankful to each one of you that have shared her story. To know that her supporters have grown and praying that at least one child is saved in her memory. I miss her every second of everyday but coming on here and seeing her story being shared 8 years later has me in tears. God bless each and every one of you! â¤ď¸
Update 11/27- I have received a ton of messages asking if she got justice. Renee was found guilty of criminal sexual conduct, first degree child abuse and first degree murder. She is spending life in prison without parole. I truly wish I could individually thank each and every one of you who have shared but the shares are coming in at like 3000 an hour. So please know my entire family is so thankful for each of you being Lilyâs voice. If you would like to join our fight please go to https://www.facebook.com/JusticeForLily/â¤ď¸
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C-Section Is The Easy Way, Is It?
 THIS POST IS GRAPHIC- but itâs for those of you who say that a c-section is the âEASYâ way out. Let me explain to you what happens. Iâve had both an emergency c-section and a planned one…
First, (during your probable panic attack) theyâre going to sit you up on the operating table. Theyâll open the back of your hospital gown and a nurse will cradle your head and shoulders to make sure that your spine is arched. You HAVE to stay still because the anesthesiologist is about to stick a large needle in your spine and IF you move, letâs just say, itâs not good. You DONâT move. But you feel that needle go into your spine and the pain and pressure is something you will NEVER forget.
Next, the nurses lay you on your back as your legs begin to go numb. At this point, Iâm shaking and crying because thereâs something very terrifying about knowing that your stomach is about to get cut open- and youâre awake for it. The bright surgery light shines down on you as they begin to clean your stomach. Your blood pressure and pulse are being monitored as they touch your stomach up to your ribs to make sure youâre numb. EMOTIONALLY, you CANNOT be numbed. Itâs like emotional overdrive.
After the anesthesia sets in, the panic begins (at least for me). Will he be healthy? Is he going to be okay? Am I going to die? Will it hurt? And then they begin to cut..
I felt every ounce of pressure and movement. Donât think that you donât, you do. The clamps, the pulling, the tearing. You donât feel the pain, but you know/feel exactly whatâs happening. Mentally, thereâs really no way to describe this. After a couple of minutes your baby is taken out of your stomach and in the first picture, they held him up to the curtain so I could see him. I couldnât hold him, I could only watch as they worked on him. By this point, Iâm hysterical. My hands were shaking so bad that the anesthesiologist kept having to put my hand back on the arm holders.
After heâs out, thatâs when they begin sewing you up or gluing you. This is when my blood pressure and pulse drop and I feel like I may actually die. Emotions are in overdrive. I just want him to be okay. Desperately I pray that heâs okay. Tears were pouring out of me.
The operation is over, but the pain isnât. Youâre wheeled into the recovery room to be monitored for an hour. I had severe amounts of pain in my back and chest and weâre still not certain as to why. But this is when it all starts âsetting inâ. See, after a c-section, when you cough or even giggle, it feels like your stomach is tearing open and your organs are about to fall out. Moving at all shoots an indescribable pain into your abdomen and you feel sick. You need help moving in your bed, rolling over and adjusting the blankets. (You just had a baby cut out of you so..)
Lastly, it really takes time to heal. But during your healing process you also need to care for that newborn. Be prepared to barely sleep while trying to recover from major surgery. Heâll be nursing and laying his beautiful little body RIGHT on top of your incision. And just wait until you have to walk in 12 hours- THAT is pain. Showering, walking and moving are NO easy task. Your incision will burn, your stomach will feel like youâve been stabbed repeatedly and going to the bathroom will seem nearly impossible.
LUCKILY there is something amazing about all of this- you gave birth to a beautiful child. Incredible. And NO itâs not the âeasyâ way. The truth is, there is NO âeasyâ way to give birth.
So for all of us c-section moms, donât minimize our births. Donât tell us that we did it the âeasyâ way. Donât tell us that we âcopped outâ. Itâs simply NOT true…. just ask any woman whoâs had one. It takes a STRONG woman to endure a c-section and recover from one. Iâve had 3 now so I KNOW how strong you have to be.
Weâre women, we endure more pain than most. We shouldnât cut each other down over how we give birth. For me, I didnât have an option but to have c-sections as my uterus nearly ruptured with my daughter. We donât choose c-sections, our DOCTORS deem them medically necessary. We should build each other up. If you gave birth vaginally, YOU are a warrior. I donât pretend to know your pain. I just know it IS pain. If youâve not had a c-section, just know it IS pain as well.
I gave birth to my beautiful boy 3 days ago and Iâm still very much recovering from my c-section and just to let you know- it still hurts! IF this is the âEASY wayâ please enlighten me as to which is the âhard wayâ……
Credit goes to the amazing Chanda lynn
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Pedophile Decoy This Is Why I Do It
As a child I was sexually abused and I was silenced. When I turned 21 it all came out and that was only because my mum had found out the person who had abused me and my younger sister had been convicted and spent time in jail for the crime. My mum was so angry as there was nothing she could do as he died in 1984… my mum blamed herself and suffered from depression she was really in a bad place and many times tried to take her own life
I felt powerless all I wanted was for my mum to get better watching her suffer like she did was heart breaking .
I never once blamed my mum for the abuse and for me I just put it to the back of my mind . Then in 1991 I gave birth to my daughter that’s when I started to realise I needed help I wouldn’t let any one near her in fear that she would be hurt. I didn’t want any monsters near her. I had to protect her from what I had gone through, I did.
Her father then started drinking heavy and hitting me I was so scared but also defended myself I tried so many times to escape the physical abuse he was putting me thru finally I escaped from him. I remember like it was yesterday how he begged me for another chance I was strong and told him no it was very hard for me as I had never been on my own before.
A few years later I met Scott who is now my husband we have three children together and are very happy. Then in 2010 everything changed . Two thugs who lived on the same Street committed murder right across the road from where I live. They tried to snatch my daughter who was 4 almost 5 out of my arms and threatened to kill my whole family if Scott didn’t drive them away from the scene.
As wrong as it was Scott did drive them away. I phoned the police straight away and told them what had happened it was so bloody scary. Later than night Scott was arrested for assisting an offender… after 2 days of him being locked up he was released without charge. Many people came forward to give evidence.
The following year I was losing weight I was only 7 stones at my heaviest and everything came flooding back to me from my childhood to the domestic violence I suffered. I was paranoid someone was going to hurt me or my babies . Doctors put me on anti depressants to help me make it through each day.
The following year we had to give evidence over the murder and for once in my life I felt strong. That same year I fell pregnant. I was 42 at the time and OK 42 and pregnant but I was so happy I was going to be a new mum again. Again my thoughts all came back about my childhood I wouldn’t leave my precious baby alone.
I finally decided it was unhealthy and I got counselling. I am free from all my demons now… then one day last year I was browsing Facebook and came across paedophile hunters I wanted to help and become a decoy.
Why did I want to become a decoy the answer is simple for me I didn’t want any child to suffer at the hands of a paedophile . Being a decoy is the hardest thing I have done…. no one really believes you when you say you get dick pics and that’s just the 1st message then u say to them your age that doesn’t stop them.
The amount of times you mention your age is un true. One of the groomers wanted to get close to my mum so he could see me. Being a decoy is helping save a real child … when I am decoying I feel raged and angry at the same time hoping and praying that the predator isn’t talking to a real child .
The predators are very demanding and controlling. Some are slow groomers then you get the ones who want to talk about sex want nudes want you to do video calling it’s never-ending . I think please if there is a God up they’d please don’t let this groomer have a real child.
So after weeks of them grooming you .. you then get a sting… they are arrested but it doesn’t end there for either the Hunter or decoy they have to submit their evidence and hope the paedophile pleads guilty… it still doesn’t stop there it’s on your mind 24/7 .
Sometimes the justice system fails sometimes they get what they deserve. It’s still not the end of it there as you know there are still more to be caught …. you can not judge what a paedophile looks like they come in all shapes sizes and creed and colour … just remember one thing if you talk to underage children we will find we will expose you for what you are…..
I have had my bad days where I wanna cry as I think please please don’t let there be a real child involved I am more alert now even though I am a survivor myself I look at people differently and I will always do my dammed hardest to carry on protecting all the children . I am here to protect children nothing will stop me. #forthechildren #kks
Please take a look at KKS facebook page to follow other decoys and hunters catching pedophiles
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Adoption Isn’t Easy But My God It’s Worth It
Itâs National Adoption Week this week Iâd write about something that might worry those thinking about adopting or whoâve recently adopted. I know I worried about this through our adoption process and didnât really want to mention it at the time. Would I love the children that was to become mine? Would they love me? Would they even like me? Ok so thatâs three things but itâs all wrapped up into one thing â LOVE.
My husband and I had always wanted children and after we wed we tried for over 10 years to conceive you see we were trying for children in the 1970’s and help to conceive was not as good as today, I had PCO and was unable to hold onto a pregnancy for more than a month.
My husband and I decided we would adopt.
But I still wondered, worried if Iâd have a connection with my adopted child/ren.
September 1987 I received a phone call after waiting 3 years and going through all the palaver the social workers expected, to say that they had two children they felt were suitable for us.
Two weeks later we met these children a 3-year-old girl called Gemma and a 4-year-old boy called Shaun.
The little girl smiled when we walked in and showed me her doll, the boy went up to my husband and said “your now my daddy” and hugged him tight.
It was love at first sight, how could these children that I didn’t carry within my womb feel like my own?
My children have grown now and I have 3 wonderful grandchildren, It wasn’t always easy being an adoptive mum, questions were asked and going from a family of 2 to a family of 4 was hard work.
I remember wanting to be pregnant so much but looking back now I am so glad I couldn’t as I wouldn’t have the family that I do now.
Adoption is not easy but my god is it worth it!!!
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A Story From A Child In Foster Care
Life has been a bit not nice for me. Iâve not been the best bear I could be and things have been scary. My tummy bubbles have been very very big, my legs have done lots of running, my hands lots of hurting and my mouth saying not nice stuff.
Itâs been the summer holidays. I like the holidays usually as I get to do lots and lots of fun stuff with Kim and the others. We have been doing nice stuff and I have had some fun but thereâs been something else happening for me as well. Something not fun. Not nice. Something I didnât know what to do with.
I still see mummy and my brothers. We have contact. Sometimes mummy doesnât come and then I feel sad because I think she doesnât like me anymore or sheâs poorly – she used to get poorly a lot when she had her friends round and they did drinking and some other bad stuff and fighting. Mummy has been coming to contact in the summer and in the holidays we get to spend longer with her. We go to the family centre with the big garden. Sometimes me and mummy can talk by ourselves when the supervisor is on the other side of the garden.
We was playing football with my brothers. Then they wanted to go on the climbing frame. I was too hot so sat on the grass. Mummy sat with me. I thought it was going to be lovely to be with her but then she said it. Mummy said I was going to live back at home with her. She was going to court to get me back. She was going to tell them that the social
workers was telling lies. That I had been telling lies about the man in my room. And because I was a liar Kim didnât want me living in her house so thatâs the plan. I am going to live back with mummy as soon as the court says so BUT I mustnât tell anyone because social will make up more lies.
All my happy went in that minute. Every thing changed for me. Iâve been living with Kim for a fair time now and really loved it there. I always felt safe there. I always had food and toys and clothes and my comfy bed. And I was a big enough bear now to know I didnât get that at mummyâs. My world was like a big balloon that had just gone pop.
I went back to Kimâs from contact. It was Kims now, not home. Mummyâs was going to be home, a home I feared, a home full of noise and mess. A home without lights, cold, dirty. A home with no clean clothes, no nice comfy bed, no toys. The place I had come from. Somewhere I didnât want to go back to. Theyâd told me I wouldnât have to go back there. Kim. The court people. The social worker. Mummy was right. They had been telling lies. They said I wasnât going home and mummy said I am when sheâs been to court. I had to show them this little bear knew they were lying.
And show them I did. I was cross. I did everything I could think of to show them what happens when this little bear wasnât happy. I ran away. I broke things. I kicked Kim. I tore my books up. I started to swear again. If theyâd lied to me Iâd lie back. I told them it wasnât me that put the remote in the toilet. I told them it wasnât me that wrote swear words on the wall. I told them I hated them. That was my biggest lie. Inside I didnât hate them. I loved them but couldnât understand why theyâd lied to me and why I was having to go back to mummyâs house.
I carried on like this for a good while. I was going to take charge here and make them hate me like I hated them. My comfy bed was next. I cut my duvet. Cut my pillow. I wasnât having a comfy bed at mummyâs house so I needed to remember what it was like not having one. Iâd better get used to it. Kim caught me. Scissors in hand and cut pillow by my side. I wasnât prepared for what happened next.
Did the shouting come? No. Did the beating come? No. Did the throwing things around the room come? No. Did the threat of no dinners come? No. Did the hitting of walls or door come? No. Did the being called all the horrid names on the planet start? No. Did the pushing and shoving start? No. No they didnât. Thatâs what happens at mummyâs house not Kimâs.
Did I start to feel really scared? No. Did I wet myself in fear? No. Did I throw the scissors? No. Did I shout and swear? No. Did I try to run? No. Did I cower in the corner? No. They were things that happened in mummyâs house too. So now Iâm really really confused. They want to take me away from my safe place to put me back in mummyâs house. How can that be an okay thing to do?
And do you know? I think Kim could see what I was feeling inside. I think she could see I was angry about things – she didnât know what. But more so I think she could see that underneath this cross angry bear face who said he hated everyone, there was a little bear who felt so frightened, confused and lonely and in desperate need of a tight squeezy hug. A little bear who had so much to say but not the words to say it. A little bear whose world had drastically changed by those few words from his mummyâs mouth – youâre coming back home.
Kim sat next to me and took the scissors from my hand. I leant into her like I do when I need a hug and she cuddled me. She cuddled me so tight I knew I was safe. And then I cried. I cried and cried and cried. And then I told her what mummy said. And do you know as I was telling Kim I knew it was mummy that wasnât telling me the right things. Iâve grown enough to know what happened at home wasnât how little bears are meant to live. But after all Iâd done these last few weeks maybe that was how I deserved to live?
Kim just held me and let me cry away. I talked and talked in my crying. I donât know how Kim could understand me but she did. When I was all cried out Kim talked back to me. She told me that she felt mummy had got things a bit muddled. How Kim and the social workers hadnât lied to me. That I wasnât going to go back to live at mummyâs. Kim and the police and everyone knew I wasnât lying about the man in my room. Theyâd all seen what mummyâs house was like. My brothers had all said the same thing and they did believe us. Kim does want me to live with her till Iâm a grown up bear. She was sorry that mummy had made me so very scared and mummy was wrong to say such things. My social worker came out to see me and told me just the same as Kim. That helped calm my tummy bubbles big time! They are going to talk to mummy about it and how it made me feel. They said sometimes mummies will say these things to stop themselves feeling so bad but they donât think how it makes the children feel. Mummy isnât going to be in trouble which is good because I donât want that, but they want mummy to think about what she says. Kim used to say that to me lots – I used to say unkind things but didnât think how they made people feel, so I know what the social worker means.
Iâm feeling safe again now. Happy and so so glad Iâve still got my comfy bed. Kim got me a new duvet and pillow but I did have to use some of my money to help buy it. I donât mind. Because I know when I say home itâs where I live now and thatâs just how I like it!
#bearincare
#fosteringchangeslives
www.essexadoptionandfostering.co.uk/fostering
Full credit: https://www.facebook.com/Robbie-a-bear-in-foster-care-his-story
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This Is What Depression Looks Like, No, Not The Clean Dishes
This is what depression looks like.No. Not the clean dishes.
But that there were that many dishes in the first place; that Iâve gone 2 weeks without doing them. 3 days ago I sat on the kitchen floor and stared at them while I cried. I knew they needed to be done. I wanted to do them so bad. But depression pulled me under. It sucked me in. Like a black hole. Rapidly, sinking quick-sand.
I walked by them morning and night and all day long. And just looked at them. Telling myself that I could do them. Telling myself that I would. And feeling defeated everyday that I didnât. Making the depression only that much worse because not accomplishing something that needs to be done is failure. Worthless. Failure. Piece of shit. Incompetent. Stupid. Lazy. All things that roll through the mind of someone with depression.
All. Day. Long. Throw anxiety on top of it, and youâve got yourself a real treat.           Being scared your husband will leave because he thinks youâre lazy. Being scared to let people into your home because theyâll think youâre nasty. Feeling like youâre failing your kids because for the 3rd night in a row you donât have any clean dishes to cook dinner on.. so pizza it is. Again. And the worst part of it all, itâs not just with the dishes. The laundry, cleaning, dressing yourself, taking a shower, dressing your kids, brushing your and their teeth, normal everyday tasks. It all becomes a nightmare. A very daunting task.
Somedays it doesnât get done at all. Depression is something that âstrongâ people donât talk about because they donât want people to think theyâre âweakâ. Youâre not weak. Youâve been strong for so long and through so many things, that your body needs a break. I donât even care if the only thing you did today, was put deodorant on. Iâm proud of you for it. Good job. Iâm in your corner. Iâm on your side. Iâm not looking for sympathy, not in the slightest. But I am letting everyone know that Iâm here for you. I get it. If you need someone to talk to, Iâm always here to help.
Full credit goes to the amazing Brittany Ernsperger
