Relief of Blog Constipation or Yes, YOU are Needed

I don't know where to start. It's like blog constipation that has found relief...I want to finish my orphan post (and will...just not now), tell you about the 90 simple cards sold, um...my hair is now freaking orange, MOPS international, refugees needing more work, group home, midwifery training in Gage's village.....Where to start?

My one long run-on sentence attempt to address the above

Lately, I have felt overwhelmed with people thinking I'm special or the work I do in Africa is extraordinary, when actually I am nothing more than a woman in all reality who shouldn't even still be alive and decided to share a little of my past with you to help you understand that where you come from and your past is NOT who you are...but after everyone's response about my orphan post, I felt sad you thought I was healing or hurting(my fault for writing it in more than one post and leaving first post the way I did)...just the opposite really...I am a new creature and very healed thanks to HIS love and in that light and realization..let's move on to..launched our "back to basic" program and have spent many sleepless nights waiting for my email to tell me another momma can live because YOU bought a simple card...how awesome....90 women and babies have the basics...Did I mention MOPS International is developing a program that will impact 500 moms and a whole community in Ethiopia...and that those very moms told me to carry their burden home when I met them in March and I have, but need $14, 000 for them which will be raised partly through our Tacky 4 Africa" headbands....oh my gosh...did I tell that I sold only 14 since March...I haven't given a check to the refugees in 2 months..., but I have 50 here that I already paid for, because I pay them upfront... and I'm offering a Spring Cleaning deal where you can buy 2 for $15...wait! Almaz and Fekede my twins parents are going to run BEMM's first house for street mothers in Nekemte and we are hoping to fund a midwifery training program in the village Gadese is from....Oh yeah before I forget.....

How cute is this headband?
If you want one like the one I'm wearing...
order them on my blog or website and in the notes write
Cute headband
Oh...
We will also be re-designing our website soon
and
can be found at
BEMM.org
Yes. Much easier than Becauseeverymothermatters.com:)

back to the headbands
seriously though
the refugees need money.
In order to pay them
I NEED SALES.
I am not one to beg for my own needs...
BUT
I will beg for others...

Buy a cute headband or two.
right now I'm doing Spring Cleaning and will sell the 50 I have for 2 for $15.
Why?
I already paid them for these and can't afford to buy more fabric and pay them to sew another batch until our sales pick up.
Bottom line.
Will the money still go to them?
Yes. (in a way)
I have actually already paid them out of my own pocket (like I always do) for this batch they made in Feb. The sale of these 50 headbands will go towards new fabric so they can make a new batch and earn money and the other revenue will go towards the MOPS International program.
Why am I telling you this?
I know when I buy things to "help" people...
I really do care how my money is being used.
I want you to know that all money either directly donated to BEMM or products purchased through us....really does directly impact people.

Yep. So, here I am...
asking you to help us
make a difference
in the life of another.

Buy a headband or 2,3,4,5 that will help local refugees and MOPS international
Buy a Simple card for Mother's Day that will help provide the basics for a momma to simply live.
Organize a fundraiser in your MOPS group or group of friends.
Sell Simple Cards.
Tacky 4 Africa headbands.
Are you creative?
Have a product we can sell?
Spread the word.
Join us on Facebook
Talk to your local birthing center.
Join the bandit crew of
Because Every Mother Matters.
Only requirement
Be real
get messy
and
be
YOU.
yes. you. you are needed. just as you are.

The Beep

My phone has a feature
A feature that most of the time annoys me.

It beeps when I get an email.
Typically it's an email soliciting Viagra at all hours of the night.
But
In the last 36 hours
My phone has beeped every hour or two
letting me know
that we can make one more kit.
Normally I silence my phone at night
But
I can't help it.
I want to leave it on now.
Every beep I hear
makes me want to dance.
It's like Pavlov's Dogs
Beep=good

So far 60 simple cards have been purchased by you to provide 60 mommas with basic needs to simply live. That is HUGE! Right now our medical director is busy assembling the birthing kits that will be delivered to the war torn regions of Congo. NEVER underestimate what it is that YOU can do. It might be the simple card you bought to honor a woman in your life that you love that provided the basics needed to help a woman someone else loves simply live.

Back to Basic

Mother Teresa tells us a simple smile is the basics of peace.

We all know the basics....
The ABC's
The 123's
Most of us know
The golden rule.
The 1o Commandments.
"Live simply so others can simply live"
Eat less
Exercise more
"Count your blessings everyday"
"A healthy heart is a happy heart"
The basics
are pretty simple

When my children are crying they desire nothing more than a simple hug. When they fall down they need maybe a basic band-aid for their booboos. When I have had a rough day just hearing a simple encouragement like a basic,"I am sorry you are hurting and I love you" means everything to me....When my soul is thirsty, I simply and humbly go back to the basics of my faith.

If the basics are so simple
and if we can simply live by the basics
then why do so many of us (me)
simply walk away from the basics of what can help so many simply live?


Because Every Mother Matters was started over three years ago after Brandi and I read about how women give birth in Uganda. It was simply a heartfelt response to meet the basic needs of mommas. We learned that women and children were dying needlessly due to simple needs of basic materials.
Please read what started it all here
You can see the very first kits delivered here

Since then BEMM has delivered a many kits...
and raised 10,000's of dollars for amazing organizations

Somewhere along the way though we got lost .... We forgot. Yes. Health Care Centers are needed
and Programs help but
often times it comes down to needing the basics to simply live.


$10 provides the basics needed for a mom and her child to simply live.
It's not much
It's simple really
A plastic sheet
A sterile blade
soap
gloves
a chord
A blanket and cap

Basic stuff
Yet...

Every minute of every day, a woman dies from complications related to pregnancy or childbirth.

99% of these deaths occur in developing countries.

In Ethiopia the lifetime risk of dying in pregnancy or childbirth is 1 in 7.

An estimated 1 million young children die shortly after the death of their mother.

"There are “six cleans” that make up a clean birth: clean hands, clean perineum, clean delivery surface, clean cord cutting implement, clean cord tying, and clean cord care."

Because Every Mother Matters is going back to the basics. $10 will provide the basics so mommas can simply live. This Mother's Day We are humbled to share with you our Back to Basic greeting card It's not much really. It's just a simple card...
Basic really. blank inside. 1 in 7 mommas whose futures are unwritten... waiting for someone to fill in the blanks...

This Mother's Day
Give a $10 simply made card
to provide the basics
for a mom to simply live.


Simply order your Back to Basic Cards to the right of my blog or on the BEMM website

It's simple.
One card provides the basics to help a momma simply live.
No fluff
No glitter
Just the basics.

The Orphan Part 1-

I was driving home yesterday with my three daughters in the car after a girls getaway. Along the interstate, tucked back between trees, is a little white house with broken green shutters. It is no bigger than a shed. I drive by this house a dozen times a year on my way to St. Louis. I pretend to not see it most of the time or look the other way when I pass by. Sometimes I wonder who lives there..if anyone does at all. After 18 years it still looks the same to me. A small white house along the interstate and in the middle of nowhere. A modest symbol of home to a girl who had nothing, but desired something. I moved into the little white house in the middle of Missouri with my boyfriend whom I had met while being homeless and working in a crack house in California. I had a dream. I wanted to leave all my past behind. The drugs, the prostitution, the heartache, the loneliness, the chaos...all of it. The little white house was to be my new start. A symbol of family. A few months later I ended up fighting for my life at what was suppose to be the symbol of new beginnings, family and hope. My boyfriend, in a violent rage attacked me. He beat me and didn't want to stop. I fled the house. I hid in the bushes. The blood running down my face blurred my vision, but I could still see my dream...the home....the symbol of family in front of me. He had a knife. He was stabbing at the bushes. He was screaming. He was taunting me. I sat there. I looked at the little white house and at that moment I turned my back and I ran. I ran as far away from the house as I could. I vowed to never look back. I called the only person I knew would not judge me. I called my big sister Kym. She picked me up on the side of the interstate. My trembling body covered in blood. I just wanted to go. Yet, she knew that back at the little white house was the man that did this and my two puppies. She drove to the house. Punched her hand through the glass, grabbed the man by his throat and said, "Give me the pups and if you ever lay a finger on my sister again, I will kill you". My sister drove me to her trailer. I don't remember much for the next few weeks until I ended up in the hospital. See, included in my dream of the little white house was a baby. I was pregnant. He did not kill me that night, but he killed our son. I was about 20, but looked 13. The staff at the hospital was cruel. I almost bled to death in their attempt to teach me a lesson. I did die that night though. Every dream I had died. Every hope for the white house died. I had nothing. No home.

My Mirror

I looked in the mirror today and cried. This may sound weird, but I try not to look in the mirror that much. It's not that I don't like what I see or have hang-ups about my appearance. It's just I am who I am. I don't want what I see on any given day to dictate how I should feel about myself. I don't normally wear make-up or spend any time getting ready. I get up and go. Because inside I feel beautiful. I feel alive. I feel loved. I believe I look the same on the outside too and it is what is inside that will control what I see on the outside.

Lately though I have felt ugly, tired and unloved....I was scared to look in the mirror. I am almost 40, I am weary, and I don't feel loved...I did not recognize myself. Holy crap...I look old. I look weary. I look unloved. I look exactly how I feel. I cried. My tears got caught in my wrinkles, my happiness was lost in the bags under my eyes, I feel unloved...and it is obvious from my face, I feel alone.

Yes, I looked in the mirror today and my reflection described me. I can't change my age or my wrinkles.....or even who loves me.

I do know I can feel beautiful. I can feel alive. I can feel loved.

I will not find what I need or all I lack, gazing upon my image. No. I will discover it when I remember to look beyond what I see and who see. I will find it in loving. I will find it in serving... I will find the image I seek and who I am among the least of these...

Argh.

Everyday I have people telling me what to believe or not believe. What to feel or not to feel. What to see or not to see. Sometimes the input is so subtle I don't realize it...other times it is being crammed down my throat. Today was one of those days that I just felt like a pawn. Every body wanting something, needing something. It is in my nature to just give it all. I would have let them nail me to a cross just like Jesus...although I would have done it out of guilt and exhaustion.