![\"Breaking](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.everywritersresource.com\/selfpublished\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/04\/breakthesilence.jpg?resize=388%2C577\" "\\"Breaking")
Author<\/h2>\nDiamante Lavendar<\/p>\n
Diamante Lavendar has been in love with reading since she was a child. She spent many hours listening to her mother read to her when she was young. As she grew older, she enjoyed reading novels of all genres: horror, fantasy and some romance to name a few.<\/p>\n
She began writing in college and published some poetry in anthologies over the years. After her kids were older, she wrote as a form of self expression and decided she wanted to share her stories with others.<\/p>\n
Most of her writing is very personal and stems from her own experiences and those of her family and friends. She writes to encourage hope and possibility to those who read her stories.<\/p>\n
Diamante believes that everyone should try to leave their own positive mark in the world, to make it a better place for all. Writing is the way that she is attempting to leave her mark\u2014one story at a time.<\/p>\n
Based on a true story, a new novel from Diamante Lavendar. Joan Eastman was born like any other girl. However her life would prove to be a life of great pain\u2026 Growing up, she was treated differently by family members, powerless to defend herself against their sexual and psychological abuse. Feeling she had been dealt a wicked hand by the \u201cpowers that be\u201d, she spiraled into substance abuse and troubled relationships. She became a victim of addiction and self-hatred. Not giving up, she becomes aware of a greater spiritual being that protects her and she begins to heal. Then she finds herself pregnant. She learns to understand nothing is hopeless; that with a changed view and self discovery, there is real hope in every situation, no matter how difficult. As she and her husband look forward to the birth of their child, she writes in her diary as a way of expelling all of the evil memories. On bed rest for the duration of her pregnancy, she endures tests and tribulations that at first she couldn\u2019t begin to underst
\nand. But no matter how high the hurdles in Joan\u2019s life are, she doesn\u2019t look back, and pulls the pieces of her life together\u2026for herself and her unborn child. This inspirational story speaks of Joan\u2019s gradual self acceptance and healing of her body, mind and spirit. It speaks of the possibilities of the future and the fulfillment of the dream of love and family. And it speaks of jumping the hurdles in life without looking back, no matter how high those hurdles may be.<\/p>\n
My Story Begins…<\/p>\n
Life has a funny way of providing winding roads for us to travel on. This
\nstory is of my many winding roads. I decided to start here, with what
\nhappened today. I was at the office of a new doctor, one who I had never seen
\nbefore. As I looked across the room, I stared at a picture on the far wall. It
\nhad a blue painted sky, almost the same color as my eyes. I nervously twirled
\nmy dark brown, shoulder length hair in between my fingers, as I waited for
\nthe nurse to say my name.
\n\u201cJoan Eastman?\u201d the nurse called across the waiting room.
\nI got up quickly, apprehension gripping me. My thoughts came at me all
\nat once. I want a child more than anything. Please let me carry this baby to
\nterm.
\n\u201cDr. Marx will see you in his office now,\u201d the nurse said as I followed her
\ninto the area where the examination rooms were. \u201cCome with me, please.\u201d
\nI followed her to his office, and when she opened the door, sitting behind
\na large desk was an older man with gray hair.
\n\u201cDoctor, this is Joan Eastman,\u201d the nurse said as she ducked out of the
\nroom, shutting the door behind her.
\nDear God, I prayed, let him be able to help me.
\nHe stood up, extending his hand. \u201cI\u2019m Doctor Marx. Good to meet you,\u201d
\nhe said with a smile. \u201cPlease have a seat.\u201d
\nI sat, making myself as comfortable as I could. I feel like I\u2019m going to
\nvomit. I\u2019m so scared..
\n\u201cI understand you\u2019re a friend of one of my patients?\u201d he asked.
\n\u201cYes…I am,\u201d I answered. \u201cShe said you might be able to help me. I\u2019ve lost
\na child before…I was six months pregnant. She was born premature…and…
\ndied.\u201d
\nI remembered Stephanie\u2019s tiny body wrapped in a blanket as I held her
\nand whispered my goodbyes right before they took her to the morgue. Tears
\nstung my eyes. I needed to be strong today. I can\u2019t bear to go through that
\nagain. I can\u2019t survive burying another child. And here I am pregnant again. I
\nneed to carry this child to term more than anything in life. Dear God let him
\nbe able to help me.
\n\u201cI see…\u201d he mumbled, grabbing a file.
\n\u201cI was told I have an incompetent cervix by my previous doctor,\u201d I said
\nquietly. \u201cIs there anything you can do to help me keep my baby to term?\u201d
\n\u201cYes, there is,\u201d he said, his eyes softened, showing his concern as a doctor.
\n\u201cWe can suture the cervix. It\u2019s called a cerclage. You\u2019ll have to be put on bed
\nrest for your entire pregnancy, but it should allow you to carry your baby
\nfull term.\u201d
\nHope blossomed through me. I may be able to keep this baby in me long
\nenough for it to survive? Maybe I can do this! Please let it be so.
\n\u201cWhat is the success rate for this procedure?\u201d I asked, a guarded tone still
\nin my voice.
\n\u201cIt has a very high success rate,\u201d Dr. Marx stood. \u201cYou should be just fine.
\nI\u2019ll have the nurse make an appointment for you for next week. The sooner
\nwe can do the procedure, the better.\u201d
\n\u201cThank you,\u201d I breathed gratefully, standing along with him.
\n\u201cYou\u2019re very welcome. I\u2019ll see you next week. Nice meeting you.\u201d He
\nextended his hand again and I shook it.
\nExcitement flowed through me. Maybe, just maybe, I\u2019ll be lucky enough
\nto be called Mom by my child someday. I can\u2019t wait to share the good news
\nwith Steve. I thought of the delight I would see in his hazel eyes as he pulled
\nme next to his tall, lean body in a hug. I knew he would be thrilled with the
\nnews!
\n\u2014\u2666\u2014
\nLife Lesson
\nI have learned parenthood is a gift, an opportunity. It\u2019s a
\nbeautiful thing that should never be taken for granted.
\n\u2014\u2666\u2014
\nJune 16, 1985
\nDear Diary,
\nI bought this diary on my way home from Doctor Marx\u2019s office. Since I am
\ngoing to be on bed rest for eight months, I decided that I should keep a diary.
\nI\u2019m hoping it will keep me occupied and help me sort my feelings out before
\nI have my baby. I love this baby so much, and I want to be a good mom more
\nthan anything in the world to him or her.
\nThis hasn\u2019t been an easy journey for me, so many winding roads leading
\nup to this point in my life. A lot of times, it has been grueling and extremely
\npainful. I\u2019ve thought a lot about how I grew up, how my parents handled
\nthings, how they raised me, and the abuse that happened when I was a small
\nchild.
\nI want to be a better parent…a different kind of parent. I want to try to fix
\nthe mistakes my parents made with me. It\u2019s not that I don\u2019t love my parents.
\nI have always loved them. As far back as I can remember, I\u2019ve wanted
\nthem to be proud of me and to like who I am as a person. It seems, though
\nlife has a funny way of trying to change people\u2019s perspectives through
\nmisunderstandings and misgivings. My life began in such a way.
\nI was told by my parents when I was very small, I was adorable. Chubby
\nand sweet, I was given a nickname: Joanie Petite. I was supposedly the apple
\nof everybody\u2019s eye. However, from my viewpoint, just the opposite was
\ntrue. From toddlerhood on, I endured abuse from numerous extended family
\nmembers. And as child, I internalized the pain until I felt like everybody was
\nout to get me.
\nWhen I was two the abuse began. I don\u2019t really want to get into the gory
\ndetails about it, except to say I was molested and it was ongoing for many
\nyears when I was around the wrong people. Unfortunately, I saw those
\npeople quite frequently. I suspect they made themselves readily available
\nto my parents when I was a child so they could victimize me frequently. I
\nam convinced child molesters enjoy their sick acts so much they take risks
\nto engage in that behavior. What they don\u2019t ever think about is the effect it
\nhas on their victim. They are very selfish people and only think about their
\nown desires. The main molester in my life chose to hurt me because he was
\nangry about things that were done to him. So he decided to take it out on
\nme\u2014Joanie Petite. He knew what it felt like and wanted to hurt someone
\nelse as much as he had been hurt.
\nMost of those memories are blurry for me thankfully. Over the years I got
\nreally good at shutting them out until they were placed in a box at the back
\nof my mind. But don\u2019t get me wrong. They were still there. Nothing like that
\nis ever really forgotten.
\nI remember many things when I was a child: some good, some bad. They
\nplay in the front of my mind like a movie every now and then. I remember
\nthings from every phase of my life, even now that I am in my twenties. The
\nmemories pop into my mind at random moments, unbidden when I least
\nexpect it.
\nOne of my first memories happened when I lived with my parents in their
\nfirst apartment in Chicago. I was two years old and my brother hadn\u2019t been
\nborn yet. My mom was home with me, and she wanted to visit the neighbor
\ndownstairs. We lived in an old house that was renovated as a multi-family
\nhome. The upstairs was a separate apartment.
\n\u201cLet\u2019s go visit Mrs. Walker, Joanie,\u201d my mom smiled at me as she held
\nout her hand.
\nI grinned a wide smile and took her hand, and followed her out of our
\napartment.
\nWe walked down the stairs slowly, going to the first floor where Mrs.
\nWalker lived. I was careful not to trip over my ankle-length dress as we
\nmade our way down the steps.
\n\u201cCome on, Joanie, you can do it!\u201d my mom encouraged me as I held onto
\nthe railing. \u201cYou want some of Mrs. Walker\u2019s chocolate stars, don\u2019t you?\u201d
\nI was too small to do much talking. I knew some words. But I didn\u2019t have
\nto talk to know how delicious those chocolate stars were! \u201cYes, Mama,\u201d I
\nanswered.
\nMy mother continued to smile at me as she encouraged, holding onto
\nmy tiny fingers with one hand as she watched me descend the steps. Almost
\nthere\u2026
\nMrs. Walker always kept a supply of those delicious chocolate stars. She
\nnever failed to offer me some when we visited her. Soon, we were standing in
\nfront of Mrs. Walker\u2019s door. When my mother knocked, we heard a shuffling
\ninside.
\n\u201cWho\u2019s there?\u201d Mrs. Walker\u2019s muffled voice asked through the door.
\n\u201cIt\u2019s Joanne from upstairs,\u201d my mother replied.
\n\u201cOh!\u201d Mrs. Walker said, as she unlocked the door and swung it open.
\n\u201cCome in! Come in!\u201d
\nWe went into the living room and my mother and Mrs. Walker chatted for
\na while. I sat quietly gazing at her clean, sparsely decorated home.
\n\u201cHello Miss Joanie, would you like some chocolate stars?\u201d Mrs. Walker
\nasked, looking down at me, her leathery face surrounded by tufts of gray
\nhair.
\nI nodded, smiling expectantly.
\nShe handed me the candy dish and I carefully picked a couple pieces of the
\nsweet chocolaty stars. I ate them as my mother and Mrs. Walker continued
\nto talk for a while.
\nEven now, I feel happiness when I think of the spontaneous visits with
\nMrs. Walker. They were never long, but I always left feeling happy and
\nsatisfied. My mother probably didn\u2019t realize it at the time, but I enjoyed
\nevery moment I shared with her. And I still love chocolate stars!
\n\u2014\u2666\u2014
\nLife Lesson
\nChildren are very easy to please. All they require is love.
\nYou don\u2019t have to give them everything.
\nYou just have to show them you love them.
\n\u2014\u2666\u2014
\nJune 18, 1985
\nDear Diary,
\nI have been doing a lot of thinking about the past. I have been considering
\nwhat my mother must have been going through when I was small, living
\nin that old renovated house. It was just us and my father, and Mrs. Walker
\ndownstairs.
\nAnother hazy memory from that time of my young life gives me great
\nsadness. It is a very fleeting memory…one of just a few moments.
\nI was standing next to my mother\u2019s bed calling her name. She lay there,
\nunresponsive. The covers were up to her chest and her arm had fallen over
\nthe side of the bed. I didn\u2019t understand why she didn\u2019t wake up and answer
\nme.
\n\u201cMama,\u201d I said again, a little louder this time.
\nDad rushed in and took me into my bedroom. I think somebody came in to
\ntake my mom. Or maybe Mrs. Walker was there to watch me while my dad
\ntook her to the hospital. I\u2019m not sure. I just remember being scared that day
\nand worried something was wrong with her.
\nYears later I asked her if she had tried to overdose when I was younger.
\nShe admitted she had. She had battled depression most of her life and always
\nseemed to be on some type of medication to help with it.
\nI\u2019ve been thinking about what life would\u2019ve been like without her. It
\nwould\u2019ve been so hard and sad for my brother, Tommy, and me. I\u2019m really
\ngrateful she didn\u2019t die that day. I love her so much despite everything that
\nhappened. If she would have succeeded, I wouldn\u2019t even have my brother.
\nWhat a lonely existence that would have been.
\nThank you, Mom, for hanging in there for both of us. I know it hasn\u2019t been
\neasy. I\u2019ve been battling depression myself for many years as well. It\u2019s a hard
\nroad. I understand how you have suffered. I love you, Mom.
\n\u2014\u2666\u2014
\nLife Lesson
\nI have learned love requires patience and understanding.
\nI have found we are richer for the love we share with others,
\nparticularly when sharing that love is difficult.
\n\u2014\u2666\u2014<\/p>\n
http:\/\/diamantelavendar.com\/<\/a><\/p>\nBest place to buy your book<\/h2>\n