A Message From Spirit Delivered By My Son

Leave me alone in my time of need. I needn't your care.
This too shall pass.
From the largest whale to the smallest mustard seed,
I too shall find a way.
To leave me now will not inflict pain in me.
To leave me now will have done me a good.
My suffering needn't be on your shoulders.
I needn't your care.
This pertains too all everywhere.

Leave me now and I shall be happy, I shall be content, I shall be at peace.

My Neighbor and I

We sat down together
My neighbor and I
We talked for the first time
Long gone were our spouses
That prevented our talk
All these years

We discovered we are the same
We carried the same loads
We shared our pains
We encouraged each other
We said the things we should've
Said all these years

She said I was blessed
Being free twenty years earlier
Than her
I told her it's never too late
To start anew
Even after all these years

We laughed
We cried
We embraced
We expressed our love
We promised to live for ourselves
For the rest of our years

I Should Be Worried

I was driving up my washed out driveway to my house that the Sheriff is auctioning off Tuesday and the car slid creating a big thud in the front of the car. My boys and I finally got to the top to find all my transmission fluid covering the rocks and mud.
I hurriedly crawled under the car to find a hole in the bottom of my transmission pan.
"It's ok. I can fix it!" I hollered to my worried middle son.
The boys walked into the house and I stood outside, in silence to collect my thoughts. Instead of the usual thoughts one would think in this situation, I thought of gratitude.
Thank God, I know how to fix my car's damage.
Thank God, it wasn't worse.
I thought of the fact that I would be spending most of my weekend under my car. To be honest, I love working on my car and I find myself working on it often. My Dad once suggested I open my own Chevy Cavalier repair shop.
I walked into my house thinking things can be rough but I was at peace knowing I would walk out of this with a sense of gratitude and empowerment.

A Poem Of Me

I saw her first
That cool Fall day
She was taller and much older.

Her hair
tainted in golds
Danced in the nonexistent winds.

She stood in a way
That transformed  her scars
Into grace.

Her long coat
Whipped against her energy
That contained strength and love.

She couldn't help but laugh
As I stop suddenly
With disbelief.

And she teases
Don't be silly
You are me.

Time

Running out of time
It's time to go
Not enough time
Time heals all wounds
Time stood still
Give it time
It's about time

I am no friend of Time. It's contradictory and inconsistent. I struggle with it regularly and yet I find myself using it as the foundation of my life.
I look back on my mornings thinking I should've done more in my time. I give myself deadlines and restrictions with my time, only to fail. I think and some times verbalize that I have had forty one years of time and I should've spent it better.
Time doesn't exist. Time does not matter. You are only promised this one moment in your life as you sit here reading this. Who cares about time? Just sit back and live this moment and live it good.
Life is not about time. It's about all those moments you were promised all combined to create your life.

Fellow Warriors

I was told that my baby had a chromosome disorder due to his many birth defects, the doctors just didn't know what it was. I started out wishing he didn't but as time wore on, I hoped I could find out what he had so I could have answers to his issues and knowledge of what medical/mental situations that may arise later in life.

After testing for two years, I found myself in a room with a genetic doctor who sympathetically broke the news to me.

"Your son has a microdeletion on his sixteenth chromosome. 16p11.2. The problem we have now is there are only a handful of cases in the world with your son's deletion. He would be a good candidate for research." The doctor said as he put his arm on my shoulder and instructed me to keep in touch with him in hopes that he may find more information on my son.

I drove the two hours from the hospital to my home crying. I finally had a name to his condition and yet I still had no answers. It wasn't fair. I was just as lost as I was when I walked into the doctor's office.

I drowned myself in research, trying to find answers only to come up empty. I was in a bad place mentally and emotionally.

I do not remember how our paths crossed, but I found a fellow Mom with a child that had the same deletion.  

She and I became very close, she was my kindred spirit. The Mom was more internet savvy and soon she found other Moms and she created a Facebook support group.

I found myself on the page constantly. We all had the same frustrations, fears and anger. We shared our hidden thoughts that we dared not share with the outside world. We compared our children's symptoms and challenges. We shared our joys, hopes and the powerful love we possessed with our children. We were One. We were different and yet we were the same.

I learned so much from these Moms. The knowledge of our children's conditions that we gathered would put any genetic doctor to shame. 

The group formed five years ago and it has grown to over four hundred parents. It saddens me to see new Moms joining the group. No one wants another to go through such things, but it warms my heart that the new  Moms have a place to go for help. No one should feel completely alone and lost with no answers.

When I speak to new Moms that are faced with a devastating diagnosis, I tell them do not google, seek out fellow Moms. That is where you will not only find answers, you will find love.

We Are One

Hospitals tend to treat you like cattle. They load us all up in a room and slowly call us off one by one to hand our babies over to them.
My son was in to have his cleft palate repaired. With two heart surgeries under his belt, this procedure wasn't so hard to accept.
We all handed our children over and quietly waited to be called. I noticed a mom who was alone. For whatever reason, she held my attention for a while until she moved to another area.
A surgeon entered the room and walked past me into another part of the room. I was startled to hear someone crying. I recognized that cry. I had cried it many times myself and it terrified me that a mom would be doing it out in the open.
I turned around and saw it was the mom I noticed earlier.
"Oh God, what is he telling her to make her cry like that?" I thought. I found myself walking towards her not having any idea what I was doing. All I kept thinking was she was alone.
I sat down beside her and put my hand into hers. The surgeon kept talking and the mom put her head on my shoulder as I stroked her hair.
I held her as she cried. She quieted down and we talked of hope and how she needed to be strong for her daughter. I walked her to the door and hugged. She thanked me for helping her. I told her there was no need, I had found myself alone many times when doctors tried to take my hope away. No mother should ever go through that alone.
Up until that moment, I suffered quietly. It was my own private Hell. I realized that we were all in this together and we should embrace and love one another and allow each other to help.
Since then, I have met many amazing moms along the way and I can honestly say without them I would have been lost.
I am you. You are me.

Reiki Part 3

Three years ago, I loaded my children in my car and told my husband that I couldn't live with him anymore. He had to go. He didn't help me in any way, in fact he managed to make things worse. He was too self-centered to see past his own nose. I found myself telling him daily that if he didn't want to help, at least he could stop making things worse. 

It was crazy of me to do this. I had no job. I spent all of my time dedicated to my youngest son's needs. But I knew if I stayed, I would eventually give up living. Why try to better yourself only to have someone steal it all away from you? 

I was lost and broken. I was in a state of constant panic attack. The idea that making him leave would alleviate some of my problems was quickly replaced with the realization that he dedicated his life trying to punish me for making him leave. 

I started searching. I knew I needed help for myself. I had three boys that needed their mom to be okay. I found a Reiki healer and after my session, I felt alive for the first time in my life. I found my Reiki teacher and became a Reiki healer myself. 

I started doing Reiki on my youngest son. March 2012, my son was hospitalized for septic shock, enlarged spleen and liver and he was in congestive heart failure. The doctors couldn't tell me exactly what put my son in this state, but slowly he overcame it and we were sent home. I did not allow myself to worry. I kept hope in my heart and did Reiki on him constantly. He was in a lot of pain and he would take my hand and place it on his belly and smile at me as I would allow Source to come through me to heal all that was going on. 

Two weeks later, I took my son to see his cardiologist to discuss what they were going to do about his heart issues only to find that the issues had corrected itself and we were sent home happily.

I do Reiki on myself regularly because I now know I need to be healthy and content in order to be who I need to be for my loved ones. Every morning, I send Reiki to my loved ones that I feel could use it. 

Reiki not only saved me, it gave my life a sense of purpose. 

Reiki Part 2

My youngest son had many medical diagnosis but the one that terrified me was "failure to thrive". At a year old, he only weighed twenty pounds. He couldn't sit up let alone crawl. He was fed using a feeding tube surgically placed in his tiny belly.
I desperately searched for help for him and one day I found myself in a wellness center begging the owner of the center for a magical vitamin that would help my baby.
I purchased some powders to hopefully help him build muscle and put weight on him.
As I was walking to the door to leave, a woman who worked there touched my arm and handed me her business card. Her card stated that she was a Reiki healer. She told me to call her for a session.
"Let me help you, dear." She pleaded with a kind smile.
I asked her if this Reiki could help my son.
"You are the one who needs this." She replied.
I became irritated. I didn't need help. My baby needed the help.
I thanked her and left never to return.
I was so lost back then, I didn't realize I too had the diagnosis of "failure to thrive".

How I Did It Part 1

This hospital security picture was taken of me in July 2007. My 15 months old son was flown to this hospital critically ill. The security guard wanted me to smile. As I mustered up a smile, all I could think was I didn't know if my son was alive and this man wanted me to smile. My son survived..and so did I.
This week I'm starting a series of blogs on my story of how I accomplished it all.

Giving Up

I told a dear friend of mine that some how, all the stress and crap that goes along with my path doesn't reach my space. I came feel it, hovering but it's nothing more to me than a weight floating somewhere around me.
When a new issue or feeling arises, I allow it in for a moment and then push it out, usually by finding the things I'm thankful for in those dilemmas. But lately, I've been getting slammed daily by these things and the weight is seemingly heavy.
This past Saturday, I let all the weight in. I'm a failure..I can't find the job that will continue to allow me to be there for my youngest son..I can't find a home for my children..I allow people to hurt me..I mistaken being a dreamer for being just down right delusional..
I was weighed down and I was a mess. Sunday morning, I went to church and I left feeling lighter but still so heavy.
I went home to try to busy myself and eventually gave up and plopped myself in a chair and turned on the television. I scanned the channels not really paying attention to the shows. Suddenly, the movie The Life Of Pi showed up in the menu. I remembered the day before my oldest son was watching it and he told me I should find some time to watch it. I turned to the movie and watched it as my mind carried on with my angst.
The scene came on when the main character was in the storm and he yelled up to God asking him what more did he want..he had nothing left..he surrendered. This made me sit up and pay attention to the movie.
Then the main character said this:

Even when God seemed to have abandoned me, he was watching. Even when he seemed indifferent to my suffering, he was watching. And when I was beyond all hope of saving, he gave me rest. Then he gave me a sign to continue my journey.

This was my message. This is what I needed to hear. I read it many times. I memorized it.
Sunday night, as I laid in my bed waiting for sleep, I thought this if my path. This is the life I chose. Before I lived any of my breaths, I chose them. I thought of my children and my role as their mother. Many times I've wished I could live their lives for them. I've wished that I could make their decisions to avoid pain. But it is their lives..it is their paths.
I thought of a moment when I'm hovering over my life before it happened and saying to God, I can do this one.
And it's not God's life to live, it's mine and when I need help I need to surrender and allow it to happen.
And now it's Thursday and I am finding my blessings again and my gratitude. And the weight took a walk so far away that I can't even find it.
I mentioned to my friend this thought and I said some times I wonder what the heck I was thinking choosing this difficult life. This morning, I answered that question. "Because I knew I could survive it, live it, embrace it and enjoy it with wicked delight."

Women At Their Worst

One day, my ex told me that one of the women he was dating refused to meet our boys. She wanted to meet and talk to me first. My ex was agitated over this and he couldn't understand why there was a need for her to meet me. I tried to explain to him but quickly gave up. I never was blessed to meet this woman. You see, she didn't want to play the game and my ex thought he could find better living arrangements than an apartment above a bar where she resided.
October 2011, my ex met and started dating another at the bank she worked at and where I was a customer for many years.
I never met her, I just heard stories about her from my ex and my boys.
Right out of the gate, the girlfriend did things to hurt me. I won't go into details, but at the very least she became a thorn in my side.
Months past and one day, I found myself in the hospital with my son who was very ill. My ex called me and offered to spend the night with our son. I was happy about this for the fact that he never volunteered to do this ever before. The happiness was short lived because my boys informed me that their father's girlfriend was going to the hospital to support their father.
I was grateful that I did not learn of this until I was home with my boys because I was furious. How could a women sit at another woman's child bedside without having the decency to even introduce herself? By the time I arrived at the hospital the next morning, I had calmed myself and focused on my son.
About a month later, one of my boys confided that while I was away at the hospital, their father had them stay with him at his girlfriend's house. This sent me into orbit and I called her. We argued back and forth. She told me that I should thank God that I had her. She could tell me horrible stories of the girlfriends of her ex. She said it didn't matter what I thought or wanted, she was in my ex's and my childrens' life and there wasn't anything I could do about it.
So almost two years have past and ill admit that her actions and words still have the ability to shock and amaze me. I've felt extreme anger, sympathy, and disappointment for her. And it's been a struggle to keep my Zen intact.
The strongest feeling I carry is sadness. This experience has made me realize that up till now, I have been living in a cocoon surrounded only by women who loved, encouraged, uplifted and inspired me. How could a woman hurt another? How could a woman intrude into another woman's family?
I struggle with the thoughts..do I fight to force her to see what she has done...do I accept and let her continue to hurt me..do I continue to allow her to parade my children in front of her family, my family and her friends?
Or do I accept that their are women out there that are lost and in pain and they are willing to sacrifice anything to find some misguided happiness?
Do I send her love instead of disgust and quickly replace her from my mind with the woman who wanted to meet and talk with me before meeting my boys?
I have found when I can't see the right path, I let it go until it appears..until then, I will let the dreamer in me dream of a fellow woman that comes to me and says "Wow! You have your hands full. What can I do as your boys' stepmom to help?" You have to admit..that would be a cool situation and story!
And I'll express daily my gratitude of the cocoon of extraordinary women I have been blessed to have...especially my aunt whom I admire and look up to. (Thank you Aunt Mary Lou for talking me down)
And most importantly, I'll rise above gracefully and let go.

Miracle

Five years ago my son, Pants was fifteen months old and dying.
March of that year he had his second heart surgery. His surgeon couldn't complete the procedure because Pants' pulmonary artery and his branching arteries were too narrow. So they closed him up.
Despite the fact that they didn't complete the heart surgery, Pants did well.
In May, he had his cleft palate repaired and tubes placed in his ears. After that, Pants health started going downhill.
As the days and weeks passed, Pants became weaker and bluer.
Pants' cardiologist had no answers or a plan.
By July, I was in panic mode. Pants wouldn't tolerate his feeds from his feeding tube. His body was too weak to digest anything. He rarely cried, he would pass out.
I never slept. The time Pants didn't need me, I spent with his brothers, researching, making phone calls. I got a second opinion before and the next closest cardiology team was three hours away.
The last time I took Pants to his cardiologist, I did something I never did before. I begged her to do something. I told her he was dying. She said she would have a meeting with the team the next week.
That night after the boys were all asleep, I walked outside and sobbed. I cried so hard that I vomited. All the while I thought "He's not going to make it if I let them touch him" "Oh God..I have no answers" "Please send him to where he needs to be" "Please don't let him die" I cried until I had nothing left and walked back into my house to find Pants peacefully sleeping. I laid down beside him and slept through the rest of the night.
The cardiac didn't have their meeting on what to do with Pants. Instead, Pants woke up one morning on the verge of crashing.
I rushed him to the hospital. By the time we got there, Pants was gray. We were sent to an PICU room and I paced around the bed rocking Pants who was screaming his head off.
Two cardiologists were standing outside the room talking and looking at us through the glass window. I wanted to scream at them to stop talking and do something.
Finally they walked in. They told me that Pants' branching arteries were closing shut. He needed an immediate angioplasty. The problem was their team were at a convention along with the surrounding hospitals teams. Pants' surgeon was on vacation far enough away so he couldn't help. The closest hospital that had a full pediatric cardiac team was a hospital that I had no idea that they had a childrens' hospital. The doctor said the helicopter was on it's way.
The physician assistant stayed in the room. He put his hand on my shoulder and told me to call my family. I called my Mom, brother-in-law and the boys' father. I had to tell them Pants was being flown to another hospital and he was dying.
The helicopter staff arrived. I looked down at Pants. He was crying and screaming. I had never seen him do this because of his weak heart. He was fighting to stay, but he didn't have much time. I turned to his nurse and asked her if she could print out directions to the hospital for me. She protested but printed them for me.
As the paramedics strapped Pants onto their stretcher I told him that I was going to meet him at the hospital and that he had to keep fighting until he saw me again.
I don't remember the drive to the hospital. I pulled up to the front doors, jumped out and handed my keys to a man that approached me. I told a greeter who I was an he took me to the floor of the childrens' hospital. A nurse was waiting for us when we stepped off the elevator. She opened two steel doors that had a long single hallway. There was a room three doors down that had so many white coats (doctors) that they spilled out into the hallway. I knew Pants was in there and when they saw me, they knew I was his mom. No one said anything, they just nodded as they parted to create a space where I could see my baby, intubated and no longer crying.
I stood there at the foot of his bed not knowing what to do until his new cardiologist said "Give your boy a kiss Mom and tell him you will see him in a little bit". I have Pants a kiss and they wheeled him out.
I just stood there in the middle of the room in a daze. A nurse brought a chair in for me to sit in. Finally a man walked in and grabbed a chair to sit beside me. He had a very thick accent that made it difficult to understand all he was saying. His hair was dark and thick and by it's appearance, I could see his main hair brush was his hand. He had one wrinkled and old white dress shirt and slacks. He told me all that was wrong with Pants' heart and arteries. He said he could reconstruct all of it using Pants' own heart muscle. He told me he could help Pants. He said he needed to go back to the Cath lab and as he left, I thought "That janitor is going to save my baby"
Soon after, my mom and sister arrived to help restore my sanity.
That night, I slept on the windowsill in Pants' hospital room. Three months later, Pants' new surgeon was true to his word. Not only did he save Pants' life, but he gave him one.
It took me a while to forgive those who were to blame, especially myself. But I've learned from it all. The most important thing is nothing is hopeless. The answer is always there. Some times you need a miracle and when that time comes, ask for it and stay out of the way.

Thank You Mr. Cash

The night my son, Pants was born, I grabbed a nurse and asked her to have a priest bless him. They were saying he's critical..they were saying they were taking him a hour away from me..they were saying all I had was hope.
The nurse came back to me to softly say a nun, Sister Judy baptized him and she handed me the tiny sea shell the Sister used. This brought me great comfort to hold on to as I laid, trapped, in a bed away from my miracle.
As the days and months past, the sleep deprivation and constant fear and frustration replaced that comfort I felt that first night holding my baby's first Spiritual moment.
One day, my mother-in-law (an old school devote Catholic) called me and informed me that she and her priest had talked and decided that my Pants was not properly baptized and I needed to have him baptized by her priest. After all, I wouldn't want him to go to Hell if he died.
It doesn't matter why she would say such a thing and I'm sure the priest didn't say that, but it was all I needed to become completely pissed at God..to turn my back on him.
What followed was more dark days and months..more fear and desperation.
Finally, one evening I found myself standing in my baby's hospital listening to a group of doctor's that I swear were just saying shit to see which one of them could finally make me snap. I got Pants settled and asleep and for the first time, I left him with a nurse. I drove to my mother's house. I took a shower and grabbed some clean clothes off of her and headed back to the hospital.
My little brother had recently sent me some CD's the mail and I looked down at them, grabbed one and put it in my car's stereo. There was a great pause and I noticed how dark and quiet the inside of my car was. And then suddenly Johnny Cash started to sing.

Oh, lord, help me walk Another mile, just one more mile; I'm tired of walkin' all alone.

And lord, help me to smile Another smile, just one more smile; Don't think I can do things on my own.

I never thought I needed help before; Thought that I could get by - by myself. But now I know I just can't take it any more. And with a humble heart, on bended knee, I'm beggin' You please for help

Oh come down from Your golden throne to me, to lowly me; I need to feel the touch of Your tender hand. Release the chains of darkness Let me see, Lord let me see; Just where I fit into your master plan.

I never thought I needed help before; Thought that I could get by - by myself. Now I know I just can't take it any more. And with a humble heart, on bended knee, I'm beggin' You please for help With a humble heart, on bended knee, I'm beggin' You please for help

His words were my thoughts that I have been needing to say.
I started to cry, not my usual cry in front of others where I tear up but quickly blink them away, but an all out cry. All of the anger, anguish and torment rushed out of me.
I drove for a hour listening to the song over and over again and I violently sobbed. By the time I pulled into my usual parking spot of the hospital, I was exhausted and empty..a hollow shell. I'm human so I held onto to some of the fear but when I reached my baby's bed to find him comfortably sleeping, I was filled with something I never before felt in my life...peace.
I still found myself struggling after this encounter, but it was different. A few months after this, I begged God for a miracle and I received one but that is a story that needs to be told at another time.
For now, I sit back with wicked delight that the Man In Black brought me back.
Thank you Mr. Cash