Wed Apr 13, 2022 – 2:01 pm EDT
(LifeSiteNews) – It was April 17, 2020. A Friday, in the Octave of Easter. It still felt like a never-ending Lent, and it was not to be over any time soon. Clearly, at that point in time we had no clue how the far-reaching government intrusion in our lives was going to manifest over the next couple of years.
After dinner I was reading a favorite book with my then-four-year-old son, “What Can You Do with a Shoe?” (deRegniers 1955). Suddenly, I felt something strange. I was about 33 weeks pregnant, so baby was not due until June. This was my eleventh pregnancy, so my first thought was, oh no, my water has broken, and too early.
I got up and there was blood everywhere.
In timely fashion, my husband had just gone upstairs for a well-deserved shower after a busy day of work outdoors.
I yelled to my older children to tell their father that we needed to leave NOW. I tried to compose myself, leaving the embarrassing mess behind for my older children to clean up. As we started off towards the closest emergency department,
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