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Petition to apply the rules for burial in case of death of prenatal

Enforcing the rules for burial in the event of death before birth.
ask the Minister of Health to compliance with the laws of Italy concerning the possibility of burial in case of death of prenatal
Positions:
the parental path is irreversible, once that is established you can not regress to a state of mind of non- parenting
death if the event you break the physical bond with that child, does not dissolve the psychic bond with his son built
the funeral and burial take on a value central to the process of mourning
in Italy there are many situations of misinformation, ignorance and failure to observe laws on burial
ask that parents who lose a child are always given the information necessary to proceed to the burial

Associations CiaoLapo Onlus and the non-profit organization with the Millennial Oak collaboration of the Association of As-Te, have prepared a document to be sent to the Minister of Health on the importance of enforcing the Italian laws on the burial of dead babies in utero at any gestational age. The parents at the time of diagnosis of death or post-partum, are so shocked that they often can not think of the possibility of burying their son. It can take weeks to realize that the pregnancy was terminated and the child is dead, so it is quite natural that the parent in the early days, not even to think of the funeral and its intentions. In Italy there for almost 30 years a law that sets the right according to precise rules for the burial of all the babies died in utero, even if small. This law is often misunderstood, often ignored and poorly enforced by the Italian birth centers. We ask that parents who lose a child are always given the information necessary to proceed to the burial, to be carried out in accordance with the rules and rituals that they will want to decide, religious or secular. If you want to help in this campaign, you can:
join the cause on Facebook and spread it among your contacts to sign the petition online at http://firmiamo.it/sepolture download, sign and circulate the document in pdf from this link: http : / / www.ciaolapo.it / component / option, com_docman / Itemid, 89/task, doc_download / gid, 218 /

More information about the sites of CiaoLapo: http : / / www.ciaolapo.it / association / news / document-burial-collection-firme.html

and

La Quercia Millennial

http://www.laquerciamillenaria.org/news.asp?id=336

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... future holds?

With this post, I want to do radio commentary on what was the matter more traumatic, more chilling and certainly the most talked about my country, Antella: the death of Julia, who was killed by Lapo, who then in turn took his own life!

did not know Julie personally, but the fact that somehow was part of the life of my sister, got me, because I believe impossible to remain indifferent to an act so extreme, and then, avoiding those that were, I am and what will be the gossip of the country, I paused to think and rethink.

As one can investigate, it will always be impossible to understand what was triggered in Lapo's head, that had meaning for him the love for this girl, when she decided to go and take a shop with a knife but also gift, with something inside that she would never use!

But it is equally impossible to step into the shoes of the parents.

What will the parents of Julia, victorious in being able to raise their daughter to normal, with healthy principles, by all accounts a very good girl, as my sister says, kind and always smiling, but at the same time defeated by life, by fate, by the suspicion that his father had sensed something, but not enough to be able to convince not to go by Julia.

What will they think that Lapo's parents for days, months had to do with a boy who was apparently calm, but inwardly developed a killer instinct, and his father who lives in remorse of "how did I do not ever realize anything. " They will be always referred to as "parents who killed Julia," that they will move him in the heart, for life, a sense of guilt towards the parents of Julia.

But how big is the responsibility about us parents? We are victims or perpetrators? Though you might be able to keep up with these children, however much we make sacrifices to sacrifices to ensure their peaceful existence, always trying to look behind to escape the danger of drugs, bad friends, the racing car. . As for all this and more, then something happens that you realize that it was not enough, it did not do anything, everything is in vain and at that point is untenable, unacceptable your responsibility for "failure to rescue and support ".

The thing that scares me most is that now our children no longer grow up playing hide and seek, to exchange cards, to pull the ball to the wall, to make mega motor in turn through the woods, to Chicchiero BANDONE hours and hours in front of the house of the people .. today they are impregnated by facebook, from PCs, mobile phones which have always in hand, have virtual friends, exchange views with the text message, talk through "what you're thinking" on Facebook, they communicate with the e-mail .. all bits of life, thrown in here and there, disheveled, without contact, the real one, that skin to skin, to gaze into the eyes, the words exchanged a few inches away ... that of real life!

This is the life that now promises to my children and their future that scares me, so ..!

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... in the field!

We started Saturday morning Peter and I, armed with sleeping bag and Canada (courtesy of a couple of friends) to give our help as volunteers at the Tent City of Acquasanta set up inside the Stadium of L'Aquila Rugby. As they said there ... you came on our honeymoon!

I never thought that such an experience would enrich me so much, so much to still be shaken, so much to think we can retool to return there again.

As we arrived we were immediately welcomed with open arms and made immediately work within the "warehouse" surrounded by boxes of clothing, pants, sweaters, shirts, pants ... An unbridled commitment interrupted by lunch breaks and dinner during which we were able to meet other volunteers (other Florence, Turin and Rome) and the organizers of the collection, Aquilani displaced citizens.

In all that time I was able to absorb like a sponge all the sadness, the anguish and devastation of these poor people: I will never forget the eyes of the Arch. John (evacuee volunteer) that were filled with tears when he spoke of his city and he found some solace in sugar bags that depicted in full of her beauty and that, as a souvenir, also wanted to give me and Peter, it was incredible to see how those images as if they were stroked part of his heart.

Devastating was the Sunday when, as warehouse workers, I had to fill the "shopping bags" with underwear, socks, undershirts, pajamas, golf, trousers ... and anguish that I rode when I could not find anything or something decent, something dignitosaogiusto to give a little 'comfort to those who were beyond the barricade, without running the risk of stifling even more conscious of to wear their clothes from who knows who! And nobody ever made me feel so good, As the lady who came to ask for a wild belt for her husband who lost his pants, he seemed to have asked for the moon, but then I remembered that in the morning I busted a box and in there was just a belt (l ' only) for men. Happiness in having been found not get enough of it as that given to the lady in the knowledge of having "made rich" ... it took a belt to lift a 'soul from the darkness!

I would never come away from there .. and when the time is as if my time had stopped!

While I was there I had no way to process, metabolize the environment ... processing is started as soon as I set foot in the house and I found my children when I lay exhausted on the bed and I realized how much our reality at that moment stridesse with the one just experienced. That was unbearable!

I spent the day on Monday, completely stunned and my mind just stopped in front of everyday life, my eyes were weeping uncontrollably!

But in the end processing is fast, the greater was the feeling of having done the right thing, so now I'm happy about all this, happy to have met wonderful young volunteers, happy to have made a bit ' of material aid to those who have those stores made their life ... glad I drank all the wine around that big table along with Aquilani, laughing, joking, to dampen the atmosphere stifling, to profane sadness of those days!

The weather was not much but I think he tried to breathe for a while Aquilani 'air of solidarity in qaulche way to help give the push, many of them no longer have their roots, but we can help to spread their wings and start over.

And in the face of all those who think that starting as a volunteer is a form of leadership rather than a way to shake your soul, please read the blog of Anna, Aquilana earthquake homeless and jobless:

"Yesterday afternoon I entered the center with a team of firefighters. I was hoping to recover even one in my house. Even the photo of my father. This was not possible, since the scale of my building collapsed. What led to the attic where I lived. But what my eyes have seen, for the first time after the earthquake, is indescribable. Imagine the places of your soul, your life, your memory turned into a clearing of debris, with very few landmarks. In that moment I thought it would be better to die. I see my grandmother looking out the window for the girl who called me that I pranzo.Papà took her hand and took me to school. Myself that I went out dressed as a nun to go to the white First Communion. Little things, but my life. And I understand the loss of identity. The loss of everything. An immense grief. Common. But terribly individual. Your existence shrivels. E landslide ... "

http://miskappa.blogspot.com/

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"This tent is Paradise"

listened to witness this incredible TV the day after the earthquake ... and it was this old lady, who may be the grandmother of all, let me take something inside!

"unfortunately I have come to the end of my life ... I have 81 years ... I never thought that my piano had no more legs, that my books, many books, all fell to the ground, one behind the ' other things, that my linen, with lace, was desecrated ... ... and I prayed and I cried for help ... and I have heard ... I have heard. "