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The Irony in a Box, The Octuplets’ Mom

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nadya_suleman

The mother of eight says that having children is what she ever wanted. Good, no argument there and more power to her! I am pleased she feverishly pursued and achieved her goal. I am also proud of her for taking the stance and having the courage to step forward with her conviction. Lovely! What else a single woman can want besides having an army of kids?! Brilliant! I am ecstatic; bring up the troops!

I mean, Nadya Suleman is to the money; she followed a picture perfect well choreographed script – pardon me, I can feel the beejebs niggling (mutating) in my petunia – so, why aren’t her comrades in chief, champions of the cause coming to her rescue? They should be smiling, tapping her on the back, kicking up their heels, dancing Macarena, hoopla, playing the bongo and the piper at the pier. They should be having a family feast, inviting the entire neighborhood, praying and tango to the celebration; instead everyone is silent. The temperature is so blue, the wind so spongy that I can even hear the aunts scavenging for food. Hummmm!

I am yet to hear from the Right to Life citizens or see them standing at hospital main entrance holding their idiomatic flags, standing firm with a grin of “I told you so” and acknowledging with an approval stamp that they have finally arrived?! I have yet to see the Right to Life soldiers and legions of sound followers brandishing their banners up, and spewing their acrimony lingo that they finally have their trophy. Where are they and why are they taking so long? I mean, it is not like she decided to abort the babies! It is not like she has terminated a few by using the process of elimination. It is not like she disappointed them. She delivered all, at once, like a rabbit; she had all 8 (her belly looked like glued stack of playdo) in one drop… “cow paw” and they were all out.

It was so endearing to see all the Drs and nurses who oversaw the delivery standing behind the podium, flaunting their Pepsodent smile, grinning ecstatically while announcing to the world that they had won the Powerball;( hoops! No, they helped to deliver eight tiny bundle of joy).

My first reaction was astonishment! I did not want to believe that it was even humanly possible a person carry eight flocks in her belly less again it stretching that far out – plastic surgeon heaven – and being able to carry it to term. But mostly, I was left to ask why, really why? Why was she willing to have them all at once, I mean there is nothing wrong with triplets or twins, one pair at time until you reach 14 like the Duggar from Rogers, Arkansas did!

I could not wait for the pictures; I was anxious to see what they looked like. I had this idea cocooned in my head but needed confirmation and just as I expected, they look just like that, baby “wabbits” but just bigger because let’s face it, one little stomach can only hold so much. I was not disappointed. They reminded me of the hours old baby rabbits I last saw on my parent’s farm; cute and cuddly – not that I am calling them rabbits at all.

At the beginning, there was jubilation (everybody clap your hands!) then it was shock and then bewilderment (say what?). And then there was the hospital personnel (good morning, I am Dr…and nurse so assisted on…) walking into the fray with Jumbotron smiles, mushroomed behind the podium on the path of camera view, flashbulbs here, flashbulbs there, one by one taking turns answering questions, explaining how the delivery went, how long it took, who was involved, which of the babies came first, which was last, their names (no one knew then), their weight, their genders and their mother (finally!). They wanted details and then some but no one was getting it; well at least not the juicy part. Nadya (very soothing name) was nowhere to be found and was kept out of the spotlight. We soon met her, first through her parents and then when she appeared on the interview on NBC.

Even though, there were indignation and concerns regarding the number of babies, people were willing to cut the mother some slack as everyone was still in shock, anesthetized and taken aback by the news. But things hastily went sour the instance the world was introduced, came to know the mother closely, and learned that she not only had the one’s she just gave birth to but six others (hit the buzzer please?!) making them a total of fourteen; fourteen little beings under the age of 7 enough for a basketball, soccer or handball, or maybe tennis (pairs) teams. It became apparent that it was not her first pregnancy but her third, all achieved via the in vitro fertilization (I hope she tied her tubes!) and that she has been receiving public assistance. Oh Lordy, she just incited a earthquake; if she even knew!

Soon it became “Oh my God”, “what was she thinking” or “how she is going to take care of them”! I don’t see the reason for the questions. She did exactly what the cause professes; she did exactly what the cause embalms; she had the babies; she did not “kill” any; she dropped them all, so where is the beef? Interesting to point that money (how much it cost to jump start the project) has never been point of contention (even though, we are in recession and could help caring for her kids) but the debate has been more on the brushstrokes of how dare her have all eight at one drop when she already has six others. My friends state that it is the whole attitude of how she went by to accomplish it and I am like which attitude? She wanted to be a mother and she chose this method and…?  She is definitely not getting any sympathy from a lot of folks.

Octuplets

Given that she has fulfilled the dogma modus operandi, what the crusade advocates, hence why is everyone up in arms as if she has committed the worse sacrilege in the face of this earth? Why are they so mortified, enraged – some leaving vitriolic and threatening calls to the point of her needing protection (added tax payer money)? I mean, she seems to truly care for the children. It is not like she appears postal; she seems to be genuinely (?) secured of her decision. She has had nine months to think about it after all. Why her impeding pregnancy event was not announced then until the babies were dropped, is besides me.

Where are the legions of churchgoers who preach and make some of us, see our graveyard just because we churn out “you are responsible and have the right to chose what you do with your own body”! Where are the defenders of “Roe vs Wade” who are adamant about the right to live at all costs and forms, and the principle that only their creed and no one else is right? Why aren’t they parading like Mardi Gras floats to help carrying for these babies? I thought that all brothers and sisters of the cause would be camping at her doorstep, lifting the banner and proclaim “power to the people”, yes we have arrived instead of commiserate silently? Where are you?

I have not seen anyone stepping out; I have not seen anyone coming forward!? Isn’t this the time for all to show the world the goods and what they are all about, come together and scream “Hell Mary”? Isn’t this the time for them to show that they really mean what they preach? Isn’t this the time for them to band in concert and support the cause, put their lectures into practice?  It is obvious she will need assistance, forget about the fact that she will not be able to do it alone; I am assuming, round the clock feeding, diaper changes, trips to the Dr; and then some. Grandma will not be the catalyst and the savior neither will calgon take her away. This is going to be one daycare center.

The right to life citizens should step up and march to their own drum, come clean! Why just swim when the tide is high and not when the river is low. This would be an excellent opportunity for them to prove that they are a force to be reckoned with, and they are serious in their cause. Don’t just talk the talk, do the walk too. Fess up and man up; time to show your cajones. Personally, I think she is over her head and not balancing all together but to each his own; who am I to judge.

Has she touched a nerve or what?!

Oh, I understand what the annoyance is! It is not printed on stone but behind the smelly, toxin-filled smoke waft from bellowing furnaces. The uprising is mostly because she is a single mother and with no daddy, yes no daddy at home. Therefore, the nuclear “family” is absent and her unconventional one does not count.  It is one or nothing, the father, the mother and the children?!

Reversal of fortune and irony of it, is that unbeknownst to many, the covert desertion of the Right to Life begins to nurture, something hardly gossiped, as soon as the alarm bell goes off. After the curtains dies down, everyone ghostly walks back to their respective homes, leaving the wounded to rotten alone. True to form, no one comes to pray, rescue or care to help after the seed is implanted. They should run up to and side with Nadya with open arms but the fact of the matter is that I have yet to see a member of the Right to Life people volunteering or be the flag barrier for the cause after the hoopla dies down. I do not see them marching on to take all the unwanted beings currently living in foster care or on the streets after they have been abandoned by their parents.

So who will suffer? The babies. The birthing of these kids akin the economical situation we are currently experiencing. Now that they are here what to do, something has to be done but what? Move them to a homeless shelter (now that the family is about to lose grandma’s apartment) or offer (because they can even afford that many diapers) them a home  – taxpayers to the rescue! I mean, I hate to say it but the government is already paying for the other six matters as well continue. She is in time of need and for the benefit and sanity of these kids we as society wanting or not, have the responsibility (it is a choice off course) to provide the minimal condition to help them grow and become good citizens.

But wait a minute, really, pretense aside; how dare her?! How selfish and unconsidered of her.  Now, we are left to pay for her misdeeds and calculated idiocy. No wonder why a war has been waged.

Funny, how things turned out. She really had a choice and followed through; the right to have her fourteen kids. What is the wise thing to do? Give them for adoption or put them in foster care before things go south. Not that I am anticipating adversity but the road is bound to be overwhelming. How long will the support team be available; there is if one is ever amassed? It is too much of a burden for only one woman to take care of.

It is interesting to note that a measure was just approved last week by the North Dakota House that gives a fertilized human egg the legal rights of a human being. I wonder what took them so long.  Yeah, I can see the embryo defending itself in the court of law and make decisions against the “predator” (oops, the mother – a stranger to me and you carrying a baby on her own womb). I think the family should move to North Dakota.

A Note About “Phishing”

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cellphone

Mind you that it was Sunday evening. Granted the Bank deserves the right to communicate with its customers whenever but on a Sunday?! My friends, you hear stories; you get frivolous emails akin to the ones from your long long Nigerian cousins (not!); you get chain letters and you brush them all aside to only react when and if it happens to you. By then, the light bulb and your wires are up blazing full throttle like tornado.

I was in the middle of my affairs when I received this text message that startled me. My immediate reaction was to call my bank which I did, as precaution, just to be certain but it may have perhaps been a tad superfluous!

I was fuming and considered calling the spoilers who annoyingly interrupted my serene evening.  I really wanted to stick it to them and send them to where the “sun don’t (not doesn’t) shine”, bark at the perpetrator, raffle and tell them like it is. I wanted to tell them this, and that I was on to them and… hoof (I am tired), but soon realized that if I wanted to make the call, it needed not to be to the malefactor but to the “big guys”.

Early in the day, I was in the supermarket and used my debit/ATM card, so the prospect of the number being stolen was unlikely (yeah right!) for the reasons that I closely guard my code like fortress (I have previously requested persons to move back a bit so I could discretely enter the code), people comings and goings, and besides the place is so well lit that it discourages (not!) even the most “professional” pickpocketer from thieving a tomato, let alone sixteen digits (great!) but these days, all is academic.

Hours after my trip, I received the following text message “Notice/ This is a automated message from NCUA. Your ATM card has been deactivated. To reactivate call urgent at: 515-678-9538. From: 5000”.

I made good on my first reaction, I called the Bank but after thinking it over concluded that I needed not to. C’mon, I only use my cellphone to bull…. and emergencies, so the answer was apparent; my habits should have been the key but nooooo, I ate it with my mouth wide open and lived to burp about it too!

I should have taken the message for the coupon it was worth; textmarketing (for lack of a better word) notoriously branded as phishing; instead, my trigger-happy fingers quickly charged off. I replied back in a jiffy with my own salvo, “Yeah right and I am calling the police”. But if I wasn’t such an airhead, I would have done the thinkable, the obvious in this 21st century, because when in doubt, google it! Perhaps, it could have saved me some aggravation but I was being fastidious.

The complaints were there; entries after entries; one by one, the victims were listed in details but I was saddened because there were no cigars; there were no answers other than a link to NCUA (National Credit Union Administration) http://www.ncua.gov/Phishing/phishing.htm. How fitting! How more genuine can a message be coming from them in particular?  I was suspicious because I still had to do the leg work. There wasn’t much there other then the recommendation to register my number with Do Not Call List.

Ok, I know, you got me! I can hear you from afar. I dialed the number back after all, not on the say day but two days later. I was curious and it is done! I was just being inquisitive and my action could have resulted on my number being moved to another carrier without my consent – at least that’s what they used to do back in the days. I did not get the response I was looking for, however. I was expecting and wished to receive an open and free for all voicemail so I could rant and spew my disgust but got the meager ad message instead, “You have reached three digits dot com. Get you free phone service today at three digits dot com”. That’s it? That’s all?

I did not call the police as I inferred, as the subject is more in line with consumer and credit, and not law enforcement; therefore the FCC, the same notable body that could not control Mr. Madoff. The call ended just as soon as the message started without me having the option of leaving a voicemail. Chickens! You can diss but you can’t take it. Nice going dudes! That’s what I call good fish “phishing”.

I Can’t Comprehend Nor Accept Mr. Lupoe ….

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But can condone!

As I read Mr. Ervin Antonio Lupoe’s story on how he took his and his family’s life out of desperation, it got me thinking; there is no telling what people can do when in despair! I am a firm believer in the line of reasoning.

We are all sketched and connected in our own way; some are wired to the left and others to the right, some have fuses plug on the negative and others on the positive. I call it the law of physics; all men are not wired equal but somehow we pretend to connect the fuses and wires, make it work.

Some people handle despair with dignity and others with aggression depending on which fuse and wire they find themselves in.

Every so often the wires and fuses become a little rowdy and untamed in your brain combusting like a nuclear weapon when you are confronted with challenges. They have their say another way, they don’t care what your feelings are, they lurk around like a pest frolicking while you are going through loads of (explecitive) and there is not one lame thing anyone can do about it; there is not one damn thing stopping them unless you get a grip of yourself.

It is not an easy task as it takes zamboni size willpower to control your emotions and not a cup of Ben and Jerrys ice cream. I know because I have lived it, you know because you have lived it. I know because I have been there, you know because you have been there. I know because I experienced it, you know because you have experience it.  Hello, my name is and I was once downsized, for lack of better term, laid off.

It is not pretty when you get your marching orders. The delivery of the “pink slip” – I have no idea who invented the moniker since the paper is not near and will never be pink unless it is April Foul day and you just been punked.

The deed usually takes place in a room with company’s officials, most likely Human Resources personal and your supervisors. They go over the script and expect you to smile along to the karaoke. “Do you have any questions”, they ask. “Yeah, when can I puke in your face?” Once the gathering is over, you load all your (oops!) belongings into one box, plastic bag or whatever available at the time, and talk yourself into walking out with your chin up given that you don’t wish for anyone to see you sweat or in tears. Often you don’t say goodbye, you don’t get to send send-off letters but storm out to later ask why me. “Why me” is recited constantly, over and over again for minutes, hours, days and sometimes months without generating any sensible answers. “Why me” becomes the two words of the jour.

It is not pretty when you hug your colleagues – tears jolting down your cheeks, wires frolicking in your brain. It is not pretty when you collect their emails and phone numbers, wave goodbye and promise to keep in touch. It is not pretty when your work family disintegrates. It is not pretty when you cry your eyeballs out, retreat to a corner in a fetal position and are dejected. It is not pretty at all but the movie is played! It is not like you had a discord or participated in bad behavior and disgraced your company, and you were let go. It is not that! It is the fact that you gave your life to the company, performed 100% to the best of your ability and yet you were let go.

You cry, you scream, you yell at what you don’t know; you punch the wall…you just do it! You vent, and?! You feel like going to an amusement park (the community fairs because you can’t afford Disney), to the rollercoaster and scream but you can’t because it costs at least twenty bucks; money that you don’t have, money that you can use for necessities, so you resort to staying home. So, you sit and wait, think and strategize, there is if you can; if the fuses in your brain permit, if you find the writing on the wall, the magical pill, your way out.

You are all familiar with the feeling of despair, of helplessness, of weakness, of shame when it charges towards you with the rage of a tiger. You are familiar with the feelings that tailbacks, entraps and shudders your emotions. You are familiar with the struggles to take back your dignity, to shrug off others perception of you but in the end you move on. You choose to put it all behind you as it becomes a blur, a part of growing up. No one pays your bills, so?!

God never gives you more than you can handle!

I got then candidate Barack Obama when he made his famous remarks that almost cost him the election that residents of small-town America “cling to guns or religion” out of bitterness over lost jobs. It is true; I did not cling to gun but clang to religion. Perhaps, there were some with contentious thoughts of clinging to gun but chose not to exercise it but Mr. Lupoe did.

Personally, I embraced religion with a vengeance, with all my teeth and nails, and I am not apologetic about it. Prayer does a body good; so there, take it if you can. It medicated my soul, stabilized my sanity and quieted down the wires that were too anxiously bottlenecking in my brain. It gave me a sense of pause and hope, and made me see the light like Punxsutawney Phil. I did not create the scenario nor knew the ingredient was part of the dish being served either until it fell on my plate. I could not swerve it even if I wanted it but ride it. So, I did.

I do not believe in taking own’s life and I hope people I know will never resort to the level. If you worship life, there is no reason to lose any sleep! Put a zipper or a ribbon, and sail away. However, these are no ordinary times; things are different this time around. We are all going through it or know someone who is going through it but the difference is that too many of us are going through it at the same time, which hastens the fuses to twist and shout even more.

To some, this is a new phenomenon; they have never been in that predicament so, there is no telling how they will react. The fact of the matter is that Mr. Lupoe did not have to kill his children, he did not have to kill his wife, he could have gone it alone if he so wished but no, he was too selfish, and a chicken at best. He could have resorted to his church, neighbors, community but he did not, yet again who am I to judge?!

We all deal with things differently. We make decisions that we believe is appropriate based in our beliefs and temperament. When in despair, we all look for that perfect antidote to numb our hurting, the miracle drug that seeds joy but does not speed injury. Taking own’s life can alleviate but can also have dire consequences, injures to those we love.

“”No matter how desperate you are, no matter how frustrated you are, to think this was the only answer — to take your whole family with you in death — is just too much to understand,” said City Councilwoman Janice Hahn, who represents the city’s Wilmington neighborhood where the slayings took place.

It’s sad that this happens anywhere, you know?” neighbor Jose Rodriguez told KABC. “You see it on the news but you never really become accustomed to it.””

When in need reach for the man on your right, he may be able to lend a hand! I was lucky my rescue package came within days; it did not take long. I reached to my old employer and ended “taking a sabbatical” by telecommuting all last year. Not bad, thank God for technology. No, I am not being fictitious.