Regrets

For most of my life I actually have had very few regrets in my life. I have almost always done what I thought was best based off of my internal guidance and intuition. It has guided me well. The only times it has faltered were in times of fear. As with most people, when I am in fear I am unable to tap into my inner knowing, listen to the wisdom and do what I knew was right for me and my life. My TTTS pregnancy, hospitalization, birth and the boys NICU stay was a time of deep, cell shattering fear. Not fear for me, never fear for me but fear for my boys and their lives.

So why do I bring this up now? A couple of friends of mine posted on facebook a wonderful video a loving family created to chronicle their child's 10 day life on this earth. So many pictures with family and friends. Time spent together with clear knowledge that every moment was a moment stolen and a gift of love. While I know that there were tears and pain and sadness, this beautiful family seems to have been able to remain in the beauty and love of the moment. They were present and loving what was now. Here is the video, if you wish to watch it.

And so I regret....
I know that my love and joy for Eli's life was as strong and powerful as the lovely family in the video
And
I was so filled with fear and physically exhausted from the experience of TTTS I did not share the amazingness of my boys during my pregnancy. My sister asked for pictures of my pregnant belly and I straight up refused. I am saddened that I do not have more of those. I am saddened that I did not have more joy during my pregnancy. I did not speak to people while I was in the hospital on bed rest nor did I want anyone to visit me. It was fear, all fear, for what might happen. I was frozen inside and I internalized it all.

Now of course I could have never guessed that Eli would catch an infection and end up dying from that infection before he was 2 weeks old. And I wish I had more pictures of him and his family members who came to see him. I wish I would have made a point of others seeing him. I wish. I wish. I wish.

I could say that TTTS took all this from me and in part it would be true. But if I were to be as true and honest as I possibly can be, from the deepest part of my being, I would have to admit that it was my fear of the future and what might happen that truly took away the moments I now regret never happening during Eli's life. I know that I had every right in the world to be as fearful as I was and I have been complimented on just how strong and brave I was. And now almost 3.5 years later I can understand and say publicly that my fear stole things from me just like TTTS did. I had little control over the TTTS. I had complete control over my fear.

So, what do I do now?
I grieve and forgive all that I believe I lost due to my overriding fears.  Once I have done that I will begin to choose a different way of being. I have understood for a long time that fear of the future steals from the love and the beauty of now. I am finally strong enough to experience the grief of my fear, heal it and choose to be different for myself and Nolan. Always with a undying love and gratitude to one of my most beautiful of teachers, my son Eli.

I let go of my fear and regrets, forgive, and move forward and learn how to choose love over fear
Every
Single
Time

25 Events of 2013 - In No Particular Order

    1.       We got Nolan’s official diagnosis in May – severe autism.

    2.       A beautiful friend of mine died unexpectedly in his sleep in February – I miss you John.

    3.       Finally had the finances to do some of the things I had been wanting to do in Eli’s name since he died in 2010. Every single penny and every single moment was worth it. 

    4.       I became a published author again! Thanks Tova!  

    5.       Police, CPS, family court and lawyer’s fees – oh my……

    6.       Nolan started developmental preschool. He is absolutely thriving there.

    7.       Helped support some fellow baby loss moms in connecting with their child on the other side, on their own.

    8.       Started back to college to finish my degree. My sister was my inspiration.

    9.       I have heard my little man’s voice. Nolan finally picked up the first sign. We had been working on it for months and he hasn’t looked back. He’s now up to 5 and starting to sing the alphabet.

   10.    I didn’t get to see my niece and nephews in Tucson as much as I wanted to this year. I miss them.

   11.    Took HUGE steps in healing old wounds, forgiveness of myself and others, reclaiming my power and remembering to trust in the Universe.

   12.    Months and months and months of being up 2-4 hours in the middle of the night with a little boy who doesn't sleep well.

   13.    Amazing moments of cuddling, silliness and love with my little one in those 2-4 hours of middle of the night awakeness.

   14.    Knowing I am stronger than I ever thought I was, and I have always thought I was pretty strong.

   15.    Finally coming to the point of starting to create holiday traditions for my little family. It has been a hard road.

   16.    Understanding that the new year doesn’t move me further away from Eli. He comes with us.

   17.    My little man sat on Santa’s lap!

   18.    The loss of some old friendships.

   19.    The gain of some new friendships.

   20.    Knowing how lucky I am to have my client base, some who have been with me for years now and they always recommend me to others.

   21.    Being acknowledged as a spiritual mentor to a wildly successful, beautiful and spirited young woman.

   22.    Being told yesterday that I do not look anywhere near 45. I feel like the past 4 years have aged me more than any other time in my life. 

   23.    I finished Eli’s picture book and got his beautiful Molly Bear.

   24.    I am honored to continue to be a faculty member at Southwest Institute of Healing Arts.

   25.    Remembering in all of this that I choose what it means. And I know it means I am blessed.

Letting Go

She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go. She let go of the fear. She let go of the judgments. She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head. She let go of the committee of indecision within her.

She let go of all the 'right' reasons. Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go. She didn't ask anyone for advice . She didn't read a book on how to let go. She didn't search the scriptures. She just let go.

She let go of all the memories that held her back. She let go of all the anxiety that kept her from moving forward. She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right. She didn't promise to let go. She didn't journal about it. She didn't write the projected date in her Day-Timer. She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper. She didn't check the weather report or read her daily horoscope. She just let go.

She didn't analyze whether she should let go. She didn't call her friends to discuss the matter. She didn't do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment. She didn't call the prayer line. She didn't utter one word. She just let go.

No one was around when it happened. There was no applause or congratulations. No one thanked her or praised her. No one noticed a thing. Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go. There was no effort. There was no struggle. It wasn't good and it wasn't bad. It was what it was, and it is just that.

In the space of letting go, she let it all be. A small smile came over her face. A light breeze blew through her. And the sun and the moon shone forevermore.. ~ Reverend Safire Rose

This has been a reoccurring theme for my clients and in my own personal life recently.

Just let go. When does the trying and struggling end? Where does the knowing that you are doing enough that your Being is enough begin?

Breathe - accept - allow - choose - and act

or don't act.

lol

I Did It! I Felt it.

I did it! I made it through one of the most challenging years for a new mom, the first year of their child's life. I have also made it through one of the most painful years of my life. The first year after my child's death....... Not sure how. At times I questioned whether I could but here I stand - well sit. I am here.

"It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children." - The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

I have lived the second part of the above quote many times over this year and I got up every single morning. I got up. There were days when I went right back to bed as soon as I could but I got up, showed up and gave as much as I had. I did it.

"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, I will try again tomorrow." — Mary Anne Radmacher

Another quote I have lived this year. There have been mornings, there have been days where I felt as though that was my only saving grace. This day will end. I will have some type of sleep and the sun will rise again tomorrow. Please, God, help me get to that sunrise tomorrow.

See, tomorrow is September 15th. At 8:18a on September 15, 2010 my son, Eli Michael, left this earth in my arms and somehow, by the grace of God, and a little bit of courage, I have made it to September 15, 2011 with his brother, my sweet Nolan, right here with me.

That's the "I Did It!" part of the post. Now on to "I Felt It!"

Part of my philosophy of life is that it doesn't end, not really. Time in our bodies end but our souls, the energy of who we are, is endless and timeless. Our souls are pure energy that shift, transform and change but do not disappear for it is impossible for energy to disappear. These statements have rung true for me, in some form or another, since I was a child.
I loved the movie "Powder". Below I have posted the end of the movie and it shows what I believe to be some form of truth to when we leave our human bodies.

Powder - click to watch

Now most of us probably will not leave this life running with lightning
and
I have always believed that when we love someone one and they die we carry a part of them with us
and
they become a part of everything else again. Their energy/soul does not die or fade away or disappear. It expands.

"Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the soft starlight at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die." - I do not know who wrote this. It is not mine.

Wonderful and poetic and somewhere I have always believed it to be true.

September 15, 2010 and my 11 day old son dies in my arms after I tell the doctors to stop resuscitation. Those images from "Powder" and words like that poem were some of the furthest things from my being. My entire moment was filled with knowing that my son was stopping breathing and his heart was slowing until it stopped and there was nothing for me to do but be with him. The depth of shock of that moment was beyond anything I had ever known. There was no room for poetry in that instant of human anguish. Not for me. Not then.

Fast forward, now to September 13, 2011. I had been spending many nights crying myself to sleep knowing the 15th was coming and that would mean.... Well, I didn't know what that meant but I knew it hurt. It was taking me back to some of the overwhelm and grief I had experienced shortly after Eli's death. On the 13th, I worked a long day teaching online that morning, seeing clients during the day and teaching at school that night. When I left I was exhausted. I walked out of the school doors and saw that it was POURING rain, sheets of rain. The sound was scrumptious. The smell was heavenly. I walked to my car and was soaked by the time I got into it. The rain felt clean and cold on my skin. I actually turned on the heat in my car. I got home. Kissed a sleeping Nolan. Said goodnight to my mom. Changed into my pajamas and stepped out on the patio. I breathed in a lung full of fresh rain washed air and I felt it. I felt it! I felt him. My sweet little boy Eli. I breathed him in. He was there, in the clear night air. He was the clear night air. I knew it. I felt it. He was with me, surrounding me, in my breath and my blood. I felt him and I knew that I had finally, at least for a moment had gotten to experience the gift of what I knew to be true. He had never left...... I felt him alive and real. And I was blessed.

And so, I will wait for another experience like that to happen again, and another one and another one. Until they form a line without separation so that it is simply how I live, knowing that my darling little boy who left physical form way too soon for his momma is alive and real, right now. I am not there yet but I now know that I will be. If I can live that way just for a moment I can live that way for the rest of this life. And so it is. I am grateful.