Oh, Mother WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME?

By E’dern Ardual

Change your mindset, change your friends, and change your surroundings it will help you change your life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Mar 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9781638816034

Book preview

Preface

This book is dedicated to all the children who have defied the odds of crack cocaine, its cousin heroin, alcohol, and any other substance that was digested during their stay in the biological mother’s womb. For the pain and suffering your little bodies have endured.

Especially to my two little survivors who have bet the odds from birth to their teen years. My love for you will be forever, and I will be eternally grateful for you coming into my life. Through your struggles for life, my own life has been fulfilled in a way you can never imagine. I will be forever with you through it all. When times get hard and you think you won’t make it, always remember I’m in your corner praying with you and for you. Through the good and bad, days and nights, it will be okay.

Prologue

That late fall day back in 1994 has truly made a difference for you and me. The way I think and proceed through life has changed, and my heart has grown bigger with more compassion, strength, and hope for others’ infants who must travel this road. It is not a candy-coated road but one with many hills and mountains to climb, and sometimes lots of rocky pathways to go around, some you may have to go through. One thing you should know for certain is that a higher power has assured that you will make the journey. I believe with all my heart that you and Matt were not brought into my life by chance. There was and will always be a divine presence to carry us through. The bondage of your life may be inherited or self-entangled, but they will not separate us from God’s love.

And I have heard the groaning of the children of Israel whom the Egyptians keep in bondage; and I have remembered my covenant. (Exodus 6:5 KJV)

Chapter 1

Cries from the Womb

I am but a planted seed, fertilized and moved to your womb. Here is where I should find a safe place to relax, develop, and grow for nine months or ten moons. Here I am to be nourished with the finest of fruits, vegetables, and meats, poultry, eggs, grains, and bread. This is where I should remain until your womb can no longer house me in comfort and I find that my body has grown and no longer has room to grow or move about. That is the way I thought life would begin according to ancient data.

Oh, Mother, what are you doing to me? Day after day, my little body goes without nourishment or a cool drink for my growing thirst. I have tried very hard to sustain my life with the few nutrients in your blood. However, besides the junk you put in your system, there is little nourishment left over. The bitter stuff has no value to my life; the burning drinks put me in an uncontrollable shake before it knocks me out. I wake up and before I can stretch an arm or leg, that stuff you put into your system takes my body on a roller coaster ride for hours.

My days grow longer and more painful, filled with disappointments. My nights are the worst of all because there is never a quiet moment. I spend most of my time trying to dodge clouds of smoke and that liquid that cuts my growing time to a standstill. I find it exceedingly difficult to thrive and grow in here. What are you doing to me? I am afraid my small, incomplete systems are no match for the big clouds of smoke or those bitters guys, crack, alcohol heroin, and tobacco. My small frame trembles from time to time, just contemplating what you might ingest next. Don’t you know I am trying to grow inside this tomb that should be your womb?

The days move extremely fast when growth is in motion. I am just afraid that all of me cannot move that fast. You see, Mother, there is a cloud of smoke that just keeps entering my space. It makes me jump around in place and lose time. Some parts of me are still growing and need more quiet time. Will you stop and allow my fragile body to grow? Will you allow my lungs to develop? And what about my little brain? It keeps trying to grow stems, but most days it is hindered by interruptions and lack of energy.

What will happen to my developing lungs that are so confused about the job they are supposed to do? What will happen to my small, undeveloped brain trying to produce the three separate parts? Will my occipital lobe be strong enough for my vision to be twenty-twenty? Will my frontal lobe be able to help me solve problems and make the right decision? Oh, Mother, what about the parietal lobe? Will it be strong enough for my speech and language to develop? Mother, my small body has decided to boycott your food supply in protest and fear of wrongful death before true life. I fear there is a greater chance for death or further underdevelopment if I try to stay. It is very hard for one so small to fight through intoxication of dangerous substances and survey with the tools one needs for a successful life. I am stuck in the middle trying to fight for you and me. It is incredibly sad here knowing that you are not answering my questions. What will happen to me if you do not stop?

Oh, Mother, I’m afraid your lifestyle is becoming a no-win situation for me if I don’t do something quick. I am trying to be fair. I know it is your body and you can do whatever you want, but, Mother, have you no mercy? I know I have three months left to be in here, but I am afraid. I think it’s time for me to make my departure from your womb before it becomes my spirit’s permanent tomb.

Mother, I wish there was another choice for both of us, but I cannot wait another three months to depart from you. I must get out and find some nourishment for my weak body if I want to live and not