Disclaimer: If you are new to this blog, I highly recommend reading death.birth.Hope (it’s about a 15-20 minute read) before reading this. It will help you really understand the whole story!
May 27th, 2017 was Hope’s first birthday. I’m still dying on the inside. I’m still being reborn. I’m still holding on to hope. This has been both the longest, yet shortest year of my life. Some days it feels like it was a lifetime ago, others feel as if it was yesterday.
This entire year has been one breakdown/breakthrough after another. It’s been a destruction, transformation, redirection, and reinvention of who and what I am. How I choose to pursue life, why I am here, and what I am here to do.
Recently my husband and I celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary, and 9 years of being in love. In Part One I took you through our struggles, so this particular anniversary was a very proud, beautiful moment in my heart. Looking back over the years…how much we have both changed, the experiences we have shared. The heartache, the trauma, the loss – but above all the LOVE. The love that we have for each other. The fight to the death, never give up kind of love. The kind of love that can only be experienced through tragedy. Love that runs so deep, you never have to question it. You never second guess. You just know… in every way, in every moment, in every look… you just know.
I am certainly not saying that everything is rainbows and butterflies every day! What it is though; is real, raw, strong, undeniable, unconditional, everlasting, passionate and pure power. It’s true what they say; love absolutely does conquer all.
This is what it is all about. In every way. In every situation. It comes down to love. Love can give you the strength to do things you never imagined you could. You can endure a tremendous amount of suffering in the name of love, and when the clouds part and the light enters… you would do it a hundred more times because it has birthed the most beautiful, unimaginable outcome.
Throughout the last year, I’ve had moments of complete clarity, and even more moments of wanting to give up. Between the emotional and physical toll my body was put through it has taken me this entire time to get my health to a somewhat manageable point, to where now I am finally having more good days than bad.
Not a day goes by that I don’t think about Hope. Honestly, not an hour goes by. You never “get over it”, you just find a new way to carry on.
One day while shopping at the grocery store, I had a random thought pop into my head, “Wow, I can’t believe Hope would have been 5 1/2 months already…. How different our life would be right now…”
Finishing my trip at the store, I lined up at the checkout and started unloading my cart. I looked up to notice a woman behind me holding a baby. She only had a few things so I asked if she would like to go ahead of me.
She engaged in conversation with the cashier, as he commented on how much the baby had grown. “How old is he now?”, the cashier asked. “5 1/2 months”, the mother replied. My heart both sank and burst into gratitude at the same time. Those little synchronistic moments remind me, she’s always with me everywhere I go.
She often comes to me by the scent of fresh flowers, pink roses or through the number “2”. I found out I was pregnant with her on February 22nd (2/22). In numerology, her life path number was 22 (as is mine). I’ll look at the clock and it will say 2:22. My total at the store will be $22.22. It goes on and on, but every time I see it, I am so thankful. I smile, say hello to my baby girl, and thank her for letting me know she is there.
I’ve read that one of the challenges that go with having a life path number of 22, is that we have often experienced many traumas early on in life. Not only this, but as an adult we become overwhelmed by our own potential, and have an extremely deep fear of failure, which is why so many of us shy away from actually walking our path that Divine has set in front of us. This sounds pretty spot on to me!
22 happens to be the most powerful number in numerology. It is known as the “Master Builder”. This number turns the most ambitious of dreams into reality. It is potentially the most successful of all numbers.
22 is a perfect number for her. She has taught me more than anyone ever could about what it means to find your inner warrior. How to call on your God-given strength, and use that strength to make a difference!
When I first started having complications with the pregnancy, I pulled out my oracle cards to try to make sense of what was going on. Only one card came out… Number 22, The Master Builder card. It didn’t make any sense to me then. I thought, “What the hell does this have to do with anything?! Universe, what are you talking about? I am pregnant, I’m not building anything! I’m not building a new life. I’m perfectly happy with the way my life is going. I have a plan, and I know what I am doing.”
Oh Universe… when am I going to learn that you never lie?
Looking back now, it is perfectly clear what that meant…
For weeks following her loss, I would awake in the morning, almost afraid to move. I would just lay there, before opening my eyes, and think to myself, “Was that real? Did that really happen?” I would almost forget for a second, that it was real…that she really was gone…until I would reach down to my belly and wait for her good morning kick. But she wasn’t there. My stomach was flat. “Fuck… This is real.” This was my exact thought upon waking up every morning. And so then it started all over again. Another day of paralyzing grief. Every morning it would be the same thing. Every day, hoping that would be the day I would wake up, and realize that it was all just a bad dream. But that day never came.
Paralyzed. That’s the only word I have for it. Completely, utterly, frozen in time. Knowing I couldn’t go back, but too afraid to move forward.
It was almost perfect. We were so close. We almost did it…
I felt terrible as a mother that my grieving wasn’t allowing me to find joy in my life. I was so blessed already! I felt like I should have been able to focus on my 3 little boys that were beautiful, healthy, funny, and loving spirits that chose me to be their mother!
It was never that my boys weren’t enough. It was the fact that my daughter died, and I was helpless. I was left with a hole that couldn’t be filled by anything or anyone and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
A friend of mine sent me a quote one day, “Grief is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot…Grief is just love with no place to go.”
Yep. That’s it exactly.
During one of my healing sessions, it finally came to me. I truly was paralyzed in that exact moment. Stuck there, on the bathroom floor, with her in my arms, screaming at God. If I moved forward, it would mean it was real. It really happened. I would have to let go of every idea I had about what life was going to be like. What our family was going to look like. What she was going to look like. The things we would do together. The things she was going to teach us. Everything that I had seen…every vision, every hope, every dream I had for our future. Gone.
It took me a long time to understand that what I was truly grieving was the “idea” of what I thought life was going to be like.
Before Hope came into my life, I really never felt like I was good enough. I wasn’t doing enough, I wasn’t a good enough mother, wife, daughter, practitioner, friend, human being…
I constantly felt like a failure in everything that I did. I was never able to see the value in what I had already accomplished, and what I would put into this world every single day.
Losing Hope felt like the biggest failure of my life.
Six months after her loss, we started trying again. I was consumed with the idea of “bringing her back”. Obsessed, you could say. I was just sure I would never feel whole again until I had her.
We lost her two more times.
I finally just broke down and knew; I had to accept this. I wasn’t “getting it”. I wasn’t getting the whole lesson. I hadn’t healed yet, and most importantly, I was not in control of this situation! I had to truly, let go, and let God.
I remember the night I released her very clearly. Lying in bed, I called on every angel, every guide I knew, God, and Hope. I asked all of them to help me let her go. I cried and cried because I felt like I was giving up on her. I felt like I was abandoning her. I told her how sorry I was…that I just couldn’t do this anymore. It was taking all of the joy away from my present life. I was in a constant state of yearning instead of gratitude. I told her how much I loved her, and I would always keep her in my heart. I would never go a day without thinking about her, but I couldn’t physically carry this worry with me anymore. I asked to be surrounded with love and light, and to help me release this pain from my heart.
It was time. I could no longer yearn for what might have, should have, could have been. I could no longer sacrifice my joy because I was stuck in an idea that was never meant to be! It was time to live the life that I had in that very moment, and love it. That was what she came for. She did not come to hurt me. She did not come for me to feel like a failure. She came to bring me back to life! I would honor her, by honoring myself.
Months and months of grieving, soul searching, being angry at God, and then apologizing for ever questioning Divine’s plan for me led me to this; Hope didn’t fail. I didn’t fail. She did exactly what she came here to do; to change my life completely. To give me the opportunity to rebuild my life exactly as I wanted. To be brave. To share my story. To inspire other people. To stand up for what is right.
With the help of my tribe and the power of the Universe, I learned how to channel that grief into joy, love and passion. Using it as my strength to get through the hard days. To find the joy. To embrace the possibilities. To laugh and love as hard as I could. To find my courage. To speak my truth. To make a difference. To ease someone else’s suffering.
This! This is what she came to do! She gave ME life. She gave birth to MY soul. She set ME free!
I have dove down to the depths of my soul, searching, questioning, ripping my old self to shreds. Every layer. Every thought. Every belief. Every seed that was ever planted. Who am I? What do I want? What am I here to do? It’s this burning desire that you can feel in your core. You know it’s there, it’s so close that you are sure if you just reach out you could touch it… but you don’t even know exactly what you are even reaching for.
Every time I would breakdown, the same question would come up for me: “what is your passion?”
This question often irritates me because it feels like so much pressure!
“Oh my gosh, I have to come up with something!”
I felt like the Universe was standing in front of me tapping it’s foot waiting for me to answer. Like how the teacher would call on you in front of the whole class and you’re shuffling through your notes searching for the answer. “I know I have it somewhere… oh jeez everyone is waiting on me. Everyone else probably knows the answer. Oh no, I can feel my face getting red. Great, now I’m sweating!”
Not too long ago, Hope came to me extremely loud and clear. I was on my way to a seminar (about fertility, pregnancy and children of all things), and as I was driving I became overwhelmed with emotion. I had just burst into tears for no apparent reason. Immediately, Hope was on my mind. I was feeling a sense of abandonment, that I had abandoned her. I continued to cry, and at the same time, I reached to change the radio station. The very first words that came on were, “Hope will find you in the dark”. I knew at that moment, this overwhelming emotion wasn’t just mine; she was trying to get my attention. I asked her what she wanted me to know. I was just coming around a corner as I asked her, and when I got around it, what did I see directly in front of me? Our vehicle that we had just sold a few weeks prior. The vehicle that we bought when we found out we were pregnant with her. She was the only reason we bought another car (to fit our whole family). Selling it was extremely emotional for me because it was the final thing I had tied to her. I know that might sound silly, it’s just a thing, I know. But it was one more ending to that chapter in my life.
And so, she had my complete attention.
I began to hear a very clear communication:
“Do you remember what we went through? Do you remember how strong you are? How much you have helped others? How much you are needed? Do you remember how much of a fighter you are? Do you remember you’re purpose now? Do you remember your passion?”
YES! YES I DO!
That girl has impeccable timing! I had really been struggling with my “purpose”. I felt so far off my path, I was starting to question the whole thing all together. In that moment, I remembered all of it! It all came back to me! Before life happened to me, before people told me what I should or shouldn’t be doing, or who and what I was.
I am a mother. That is what I was put on this earth to do. To love and to nurture our children. Not just mine, all of them. Children have always been my entire world. You will never see me fight harder for anything in life, than for the health and well-being of children.
I had gotten so far away from my passion because I was just trying to “make it work”. The truth is, I was too scared to go after what I really wanted. The last time I had followed my heart’s desire and really went for my dreams, it didn’t go well.
My mentor and business partner was much older than me, and a man. Because of this, people began to judge the situation as “inappropriate”. There were many, many terrible things said to me and about me, all of which were completely untrue. Having the heart that I do, only wanting to help others, this was absolutely devastating to me.
I was very young at the time, 20 to 21. Being as young as I was, and being tormented on a daily basis really took a toll on my self worth. I knew I wasn’t any of those things people were saying about me, but eventually, when you can’t even go to the grocery store without getting dirty looks, it breaks you down.
The sad thing is, this was all a result of a person’s low self esteem. Their own view of themself. And unfortunately for me, it was easier for them to blame me for the issues, than to actually look at the situation for what it truly was.
After several years of this, I decided to give up. I would never be able to change their view of me, so I turned off my light. I decided to stay small. If I was small, I couldn’t hurt anyone’s feelings. I couldn’t attract negative attention if I just kept to myself, kept my head down, and just got through life.
After eight years of this – I’m kind of over it! Who is anyone else to decide what I can and can not do? To take away my spark? My passion? Uh-uh, I don’t think so! It has taken years of counseling to get to this point, but hey, look! I made it! I will no longer let anyone have that kind of power over me. I will no longer stay small, feel unworthy, or live in other people’s comfort zones! I have a mission to complete during my time here on earth, and if that makes you uncomfortable, well, I have the names of some really great people who can help you find your own sparkle!
Life is brutiful. Absolutely, undeniably traumatic and magnificent. It’s never going to be what you think it should be. It’s never all going to go according to plan. But when you surrender to God’s plan, it will be more beautiful than you could have ever imagined.