Restoration

I’ve been going through a lot lately with my health and well being. My body has been in a lot of pain and it now is pointing to endometriosis. My post isn’t about that but it’s the reason I needed the break.

Today I was able to lay down, while someone else whom I trust was looking after my child in the next room. I was able to lay and just relax and I did. It was so incredibly good and exactly what I needed.

I need more help like this. I need more time when I can just rest and know that my child is being well taken care of. It’s part of me taking good care of myself. It’s necessary. It’s not a want… it really is a need. I am better when I feel better, it’s that simple… now it’s up to me to make this happen. To make sure that I am giving myself a priority so that I am well.

Somewhere Along the Way

Somewhere along the way I grew jaded. I mean that has to be the reason right? The reason I am questioning so much after spending so much of my time in this way of thinking. That I would devote so much time and energy into the thought and lifestyle of “following my bliss”. I curated the thoughts in my head, I used mantras, I cut out people from my life, and even would steer away from friends who had gotten sick because they must not have been aligned for something to go wrong, right?

I’ve always been an optimistic person and I’ve always been one to dive right in, and this stage of my life was no different. I had been living in Brazil and was totally lost, I knew I wasn’t where I needed to be and was searching for clarity. I was trying anything and everything and even fasted for about a month on just water with alternating days where I would drink some coconut water or some sugar cane juiced with lime. I taught myself to meditate and would create art for arts sake to see what was going on. This was all back in 2007-2008 and the internet was really just starting to kick off there weren’t a lot of resources like you can find now about all of these topics, so I just kinda figured it out as I went along. A sort of friend of mine said that he had been reading Joseph Campbell and in a short email exchanged mentioned the term “follow your bliss” and I grabbed ahold of it with all of my might.

I made posters with that wonderful phrase and hung them on my dingy apartment wall overlooking one of the busiest street intersections in Sao Paolo. I scribbled in my journals, and I meditated with it in mind, hoping to figure out what that actually meant and how I could use it to help my situation. One day at a friends ranch in the countryside, we ate some “Hawaiian babies” which were seeds from one of the plants in the yard. I had broken my fast by taking them and drinking watermelon blended up, a strange way of ending it, but I got the clarity I needed. I wasn’t a very good guest that weekend, I scribbled in my journal, I drew the fabulous magical plants around me and I came to realise that for me to follow my bliss meant that at any given time I needed to do what felt best to me, even if that meant being anti-social and completely doing my own thing, which I did. I had so many realisations that weekend while I was off my head and it certainly was an awakening of sorts.

Eventually after I was back in the US after my escape from Brazil, yes it was like an escape, but I’ll write more about that later, but after I was back in my home country I was even more lost than before. Familiar people, familiar places, familiar smells, but none of it felt fully like home. Yes I snuggled and cried and danced and swam and stomped through the snow in my beloved Yosemite, and did think about returning for another round, but I just couldn’t. I wasn’t the same, I was a different persona and I needed more than I knew how to get there. I continued to listen to the writing on the wall or take tips from people to heart, and one gave me a tip about a meditation centre nearby, one that had been there the entire time I lived in Yosemite but never knew about.

I spent time at this meditation centre and there’s more to this story too, but I’ll share more about that later. I will say that it was another one of those times where I met the right people at the right time, and forged friendships that would definitely support that stage of my life. I had learned about the power of manifesting along the way by writing down what I wanted and watching it unfold. I noticed this happen again and again and again. I also felt like it was contrived and I came to the point where I actually wanted to be surprised and let go of trying to be the master of my universe. I have still used that over the years though because I know the power of my words and the strength of my mind can cause tremendous change in my life and those around me. It sounds like a god complex kind of thing but it wasn’t, or maybe it was? Is this the heaven on earth scenario just a bit manufactured? Who knows. There are always questions.

So fast forward and I got into head on collision and I was fully into that mode of thought of Law of Attraction where what I think becomes, and was certain that I had created this crazy accident in some far-fetched way because I wasn’t on the path I needed to be on, so the Universe not so gently helped me correct course. Okay, I accepted that and it made sense. Maybe that’s the biggest part of all of this line of thinking, we always want everything to make sense, I always want to put everything into some neat little informational package so that all the pieces fit together, to tie up loose ends and ensure that it all flows so I can continue moving on to the next thing.

When my very complicated pregnancy came around, I did try to change my thoughts, I did try to manage my vibration but sure enough I couldn’t do it well enough, if looking through that lens, and had extended hospital stays, prescribed pain killers, and an emergency cesarean of my baby two months too soon, followed by an intense section of life of the emotional hell that is the NICU. I felt embarrassed that I wasn’t strong enough to handle the way it happened. I felt that I had failed in my own way of thinking and had surmised to this weaker state of mind which allowed all of the heartache and pain to happen. I didn’t want to share pictures of my child that would normally be joyous of his first days because to me he looked like an alien in a clear box with all kinds of tubes and wires hanging off of him, I had failed to create this birth for both of us, for all of us. Whoa it’s hard to confront this truth and I’m getting emotional typing it. I really felt like I had failed and let myself, my new son, my husband, and every other person I have every talked to about the power of thoughts, down. Like going through seeing your child like that and dealing with my own pain wasn’t enough, that feeling of failure was absolutely soul crushing. How could I have not been able to practice what I have preached and been able to do again and again in my own personal life before then? Oh boy it was a hard time.

I see how “thought leaders” in this industry of selling the thought that you have control over everything in your life attribute being poor with not being spiritual. I see them also attribute not being healthy or having an illness as not being spiritual, that you can just turn it around with your thoughts. I think it’s all a big pile of bullshit these days. I believe in optimism and I believe in setting goals and doing your best every moment and really finding the goodness in life, but everyone has the path they need to walk and to justify it one way or another is just making a huge pile of excuses and it may sell books or speaking gigs or classes, but I don’t subscribe to this thought any more and it feels like I am breaking up with it.

I do however still believe that my thoughts influence my life, absolutely. I absolutely believe that being optimistic can bring sunshine into the gloomiest of areas and help a person get out of situations to where they really do have more sun in the sky than rain, metaphorically speaking. I’m just dropping the judgemental part of it. We all get a starting point where we are, and sure enough we can do whatever we can with it, and that’s great, that is fine, that is enough, and things happen in life, it is our attitude that helps guide us through the process but that still doesn’t justify why there are kids who starve to death, or young people who get cancer or other atrocities like this, it’s not because they aren’t spiritual enough, it’s just the hand they have been dealt and that’s it.

I’m still holding onto the need for joy and laughter and fun and time off in my life. I am still holding onto the need for beauty and smiles and healthy living. I am still holding onto the fact that loving someone else and feeling that love back is one of the most precious gifts in human existence. I am still holding onto my way of being that likes to see the bright side. I am still holding onto my understanding that we aren’t really all created equally and that we all don’t have equal ways to get ahead or to progress and I have compassion for this. I am holding onto my belief that I still get to choose in every moment who I get to be and can be that person and allowing change to happen this way in my life now. I still believe that if you surround yourself with things/people/environment that make you feel inspired to be your best self, then its a hell of a lot easier to do so. I am still in total belief that I am here to make a positive impact upon the world and will continue to do so, even if with only my smile as I pass a stranger. I will continue to share love and be love because I can.

A Pivotal Moment

The last time I had a scare in the feminine area, I had some precancerous cells taken off of my cervix. This was enough to scare the hell out of me and enough to light a major fire under my bum to change my life. I had been working for a corporation for about nine years at the time and at that stage I was the Accounting Manager for our operation at the Grand Canyon, and wasn’t really enjoying it all that much. I found that just because you are relatively good at something doesn’t mean that’s what you are meant to be doing. I had also recently left a long term relationship with a person who I should have stopped dating six months into it, but I was young, naive, and really he was emotionally abusive, specifically with mind games and I had a hard time navigating out of it, until right before I got the call about my very abnormal pap smear.

I was twenty six just made the cut-off age for the Gardasil vaccine to prevent anything else like that happening down there for me, I was living on my own, dating various guys one after another in a very short time frame, and was really lost. Eventually came this over the top very passionate Brazilian man into my life and I just needed everything about that at the time. I ended up resigning from my job and gave away everything I owned and moved to Brazil.

This crazy time prompted a total life change. A complete jumping of timelines into a complete different path and universe. I am so thankful that it happened and I did what I did because I am here now with this beautiful son and husband that I have.

So my mind goes into thoughts about what is going on in my life, and what needs to change because something major needs to shift externally as well. I am unwell in my body for some reason, yes it can just be a random event that is happening in my body, but I do strongly believe that my mind and personal well being really does have an impact on my health. It will be essential for me to create an environment that is more aligned with my values and life. I know this. I know this means not being in the suburbs even though I have a great group of friends from my mum and bub group.

I am open to change. I am specifically open to positive change that is beneficial for myself and my loved ones.

Thoughts on being unwell

Lately I’ve been having some issues that seem to be pointing to the large cyst that is on one of my ovaries. The combination of major bloating, loss of appetite, tiredness, abdominal pain, and general fear and stress about this has been a lot to handle. It’s been two and a half weeks straight of this and honestly it’s really wearing me down. I’m tired.

It’s so strange that my mind automatically goes to worst case scenario. In the Emergency Department they thought it was appendicitis at first, then another doctor on call there happened to be a gynaecologist and was tipped by the symptoms thinking it could be an ovarian cyst. It makes me cry thinking about it, but I’m lucky she was on duty that day and the week after when she called me to talk to me about the results of my ultrasound and what I needed to do next. I’m also lucky that I have a GP in our rural town who gives a damn and has helped me follow up with this. I have seen a GP here and they are so blase about everything and all the gynos here are booked out, with a possibility to be squeezed in a few months from now. Again that good rural GP has come through and secured me an appointment with the best gyno around in just a few days. I am so thankful and scared.

I am thankful because I can finally get some answers and not keep living with this pain and discomfort. It’s really challenging to be an energetic mum to a two year old when I feel like this. It’s really challenging emotionally as well, and I’ve been struggling with it. Sometimes I think I may need to get some antidepressants or something because my mind really does go to worst case scenario so quickly and I seem to get drowned in that feeling pretty easily. I’m not sure if it’s somehow still all triggered and tied in with my undiagnosed PTSD after having my son, or the fact that my father was diagnosed with cancer and died within one month, just last year, but it’s intense. So if physically I am having it hard, emotionally I am having it really hard.

I have such a fear of dying. I recently heard the thought that death gives life meaning, and although that can bring some comfort, overall, it still makes me question to myself “have I done enough” and this makes me sad. It makes me sad to think about all of the life I have not lived yet. It makes me sad to think about all of the experiences I have not shared with my husband and child yet. It makes me feel like I am going to miss out so much. This is a slippery slope to go on and seriously my mind just slides right in. I have to be careful.

So how do I overcome this? How do I overcome this feeling of helplessness while feeling so worn down? Usually I would say to a friend if they sought my help, I would tell them the following: Take time to feel your feelings. Then find every way possible to laugh. Find the positives that way. Eat really well. Groom really well. Wear nice clothes, wear makeup and perfume or whatever makes you feel good when you look at yourself in the mirror. Be good to yourself. Be easy on yourself, and trust that everything is happening as it ought to. Surround yourself with people you love and who love you. Do what makes you feel the best. Do what brings you joy. Create, create, create. Focus on the love, the joy, the goodness happening right now.

Navigating the Waters

In the last week, I have turned a corner, a major corner. I have started to allow someone else to look after my child in a maximum of 2 hour increments. This is a big deal. He’s now almost 22 months, and prior to now, I pretty much count on one hand the number of times someone else has looked after him besides my husband or myself.

I have so many feelings that are arising from this. Perhaps this is what primary carers of little people go through with this transition. Simultaneously wanting to have freedom and independence, but at the same time wanting to make sure that my little person is completely taken care of. The feeling of, YES FINALLY, I’m Doing Something For Myself, AND the feeling of guilt that someone else is looking after my most precious being, who is completely defenceless, completely incapable of articulating with words anything that goes on.

Exhale. I am doing that a lot, deep breathing. He is going to the day care option that is available at the gym I have joined. It’s all super new, totally customer oriented, and really top of the line. The classes are incredible, the machines are the newest available, the instructors are top notch, the child care is incredible. Even in the baby area, they have a huge play section that rivals the places you have to pay to go into for $12 for 2 hours where you have to buy an obligatory coffee as well. The carers are so lovely, so friendly, so very obviously kid people with big hearts and huge smiles.

All of this is good, I know it. I do. Me progressing forward by moving my body and getting back into shape, along with allowing the next stage of our lives to happen by me letting go and accepting help with my child. I know all of this, I know it’s truly all good. There is still a fountain of feelings coming up and I can’t ignore them. I even invited a fellow Mum from my mum and bub group to come over and watch a tear jerking movie that left us both sobbing, just so we could let the emotions out in a safe place.

The new chapter is beginning and I am grieving the last one. It’s normal, and it’s okay. I have loads of self compassion for myself and am being as gentle with me as I possibly can in this transition. I am also doing my best to be there for my son while he transitions, because it’s also a major shift for him as well. Such a big deal.

Birthing a New World Part 1

My son was conceived on a glorious day of love, a celebration of my marriage, which is also my birthday, specifically on our wedding day. We intentionally created him with love, had just weeks prior made a wish at a Shiva celebration asking for a healthy, fun, baby boy. We offered up our milk, ate some lovely Indian food, and made love each time with full intention and presence.

I started to get sick on the honeymoon, but didn’t think I was pregnant, just thought the circumstances of stress from the farm, getting over a flu, the exhale moment when the wedding is done and life moves along, and being out on an island in the Whitsundays taking trips out in the Great Barrier Reef.

By time we got back home, I knew I was pregnant. I still took a test to confirm at 4am with my first mornings urine which is supposed to have the best rate of truth, I wanted to be sure, and I was. I woke my husband up and told him excitedly, he smiled at me and then we went back to sleep. I was pregnant and it certainly didn’t take long, I had only taken my IUD out less than a month before hand. Everything was happening very quickly!

I had what seemed like a mini period after that, which caused concern, even though I was feeling nauseated. The GP suggested I go in to the radiologist to have a sonogram as soon as I could, so I booked the next appointment I could, and went in. As I laid on the table, I was scared, what if I had lost the baby? I was so new to all of this. My husband wasn’t available to come with me, so I was there alone, and I felt just that, all alone. Then all of a sudden there was a heartbeat, and I was both relieved that it was there and also sad that I couldn’t share this first heartbeat experience with my husband. I saw my insides on the monitor and baby looked like a little dot amongst it all, but alas baby was there. It turns out that was implantation bleeding, which can occur for some women when the egg plants itself into the lining of the uterus.

For the rest of the first trimester, I experienced the most nausea I have ever had in my life. I took ginger, I went to acupuncture, I ate small bites of food regularly, and it never subsided. I really pride myself in the fact that I can avoid puking if I want, every so often I just cannot handle it and I have to vomit, but in this case, for weeks, months actually I was so sick but never actually vomiting. I was hot, like burning up hot most of the time. The acupuncturist would try to lower my heat from my upper body into my legs, and it did work a bit, it at least gave me peace of mind and I was able to cope a little better. During that first trimester I had to really take it easy, but I couldn’t, not really.

Also during the first trimester, the climax of a big dispute of the processing plant tenants at the farm came, it had been building as they had not been taking care of the animals and we even had to intervene and feed the starving animals ourselves on the eve of our wedding night. The whole time during our honeymoon, we, more so my husband, had to deal with the issue, and it was intense. When we got back my husband had to get to work in Sydney, so I was there at the farm with his parents and a few woofers trying to make a presence and not let anything happen. They were hostile and very volatile and we did not trust them at all to leave peacefully. I was on edge and I know that certainly did not help my pregnancy. Along with that, the farmhouse upstairs has this incredible way of syphoning all of the cooking smell from downstairs to the upstairs where the rooms are. So every day I would have nausea and have to smell cooking flesh on the stove, it was almost more than I could bear. I had to ask the woofers to wear deodorant, but only a non fragrant kind. Nausea and farm life really don’t go so well together, with animals being slaughtered, carcases decomposing, and all of the chicken poop and animal smells that come along with a farm.

It was so hard for me to be away from my husband, but I did not want to move to Sydney. I did not want to raise our son in the city, I did not want to move away from the group of friends I had made in country, but I missed him so much, that eventually in the 2nd trimester, I made the move down with him full time. As soon as I was in Sydney, in our new penthouse apartment, I hardly had nausea or morning sickness. By the way, whomever called it morning sickness may have been thinking globally at the time, because it is certainly not contained to one morning in one hemisphere, mine lasted all day and night every day at the farm.

During all of this, I had many different projects going on. I had hired on a coaching team to help me build my own business from scratch, which was becoming harder and harder to manage with my fluctuating levels of energy, feeling unwell, and a totally spacey head. I had a very candid conversation with one of the coaches, and she told me to stop doing it, if there was any advice she would give it would be to stop and not do it, being a soon to be new mother and trying to start a business at the same time was a disaster recipe, and that the most important thing was my child and to not make the same mistake she made by trying to do it all. She also suggested getting a really comfortable reclining chair to live in with the baby. I took her suggestions on board and she was right, although I will get back to it and finish what I started, when the time is right.

We also had the closing of the abattoir at the farm, which was a very big deal. There was also an internet business that my husband and I were getting into, which long story short, over a year of being dragged along, paying out our noses and still not getting to the point where we could sell the internet to others, Telstra finally got back to my husband with the contract. It’s such bologna that any independent resellers have to go through the one company which owns all the lines in Australia that were actually paid fro by the people before they fave it over to this private corporation, who more or less has a monopoly over all the lines across the country. Of course they don’t want competition, there is no reason for them to help someone compete with them, it’s a very flawed system. We didn’t think it was going to be such a big issue, but it was, had we have known we wouldn’t have been stuck into it as long as we did with our finances draining by the month.

Along with this I was still contemplating whether or not to take up the offer for Honours at University and to teach the Digital Marketing class part time. It would have to be all out of pocket as I didn’t have PR, and was considered an international student. The next question was whether or not I would be able to handle having a newborn, living in the Northern Rivers while my husband was in Sydney and trying to do it all. This had to wait as well.

I also started up a mini little network marketing business to help generate some income, which ended up me just spending a lot of money in the way of their products, which while the dollar was one to one, it wasn’t so bad. I sent out heaps of greeting cards and that felt really good, until the realisation that the only way you make money is not by having others buy your greeting cards, but they have to be distributors as well, it felt a bit strange, and I found that it didn’t work as well in Australia, especially as the US dollar increased in value, it became really expensive to keep this going. Eventually I stopped paying and my account has just enough to send a few more cards and then its done.

So there were all of these projects happening, lots of stress, and then a move, to a place I didn’t really want to live, but did because I wanted, err, needed, to be with my husband.

I started trying to figure out where to do antenatal classes that fit in with my husbands rotating schedule, I didn’t get into this alone and I didn’t want to do it alone. I found a birthing from within program in the Northern Rivers and it fit the dates in my 3rd trimester, and I felt better. I had luckily gotten in to the caseload midwife program at the local hospital near the farm where I could have a water birth and be assisted by lovely experienced women with the security of having the hospital as well just in case anything went awry.

There was still a lot of stress regarding the projects we had going on, but I was getting everything sorted one by one. Then at one of the ultrasound appointments, I was told that my placenta was low lying, and that if it didn’t move up, then I would have to have to have a cesarian. This was the opposite of the midwife assisted water birth I had planned to do without any kind of medication. I kept hoping it was wrong and was misdiagnosed due to me not drinking enough water so they could see inside properly with their machine. At the 20 week scan, we saw that my son was not shy at all and was showing his parts in full glory. I was going to have a boy. It was all pretty surreal and was happening.

After a quick trip back to the farm, I got back on the plane to Sydney and was required to show my letter stating I was okay to fly. I honestly didn’t feel very good at all. The day before I had spent a little time in the healing waters of Lake Ainsworth, a nearby tea tree oil infused lake, which happens to be my favourite lake in the world. I was told later that it was an aboriginal birthing lake, which maybe somehow my body knew that.

We landed in Sydney, I met up with a Uni friend and strolled the open gardens on a lovely spring day at Westmeade hospital, and I was tired, very very tired. I had only just finished my 2nd trimester, the baby wasn’t due for another almost three months, but I was so exhausted. That evening, I went to the toilet and found that I was bleeding, a lot of blood. Interestingly only a week or so before, as a precaution I booked into the local Nepean Hospital just in case I needed anything while I was in Sydney related to my pregnancy. We called and they said to come in, and this was the first of many experiences I had with the birthing suite. They wanted to monitor the baby’s heartbeat and to make sure everything was okay. Turns out everything was okay, and that bleeding was par for the course when it came to having a low lying placenta. After a couple of days they let me go home after it was clear that I wasn’t bleeding anymore. I was relieved and very tired.

Since we lived in penthouse apartment that was a walkup, that meant I had to somehow make it up 4 flights of stairs to my bedroom. It was horrendous. We had to move. We had to move for other reasons as well. We had these two older Sri Lankans who totally leached off of us for more months than I care to admit. My husband didn’t want to deal with it as he had his plate absolutely full, and they kept promising they would pay rent. We took on two additional housemates on top of them to help pay the rent, so there was a full house on top of it all. We started looking intently for another place to live that was clean, nice, and not too expensive. I had been looking when I would come to Sydney from the farm and just couldn’t find anything that would work, the one place that did was then pulled last minute and rented to a friend of the owner. By chance, we were directed by a real estate agent to a place we hadn’t even noticed online, and it was the right one, so we signed on, things were looking up. It was a ground level, stand alone two storied town house with three bedrooms and three bathrooms with a a cute backyard. Perfect for what we needed and it was brand new.

I had another bout of bleeding a week later and again, we rushed to hospital, this time there was more blood than I’ve ever seen rushing out of my body.

To be continued.

Dad and Health

An emergency message

never good to get

call me, we need to talk

it’s not good

he fell a week ago

hasn’t gone to hospital

until now.

Scans, MRI, Biopsy

It’s been years since he’s been in.

Truth is he’s sick

he’s been sick for a while

He’s ignored it.

We have too.

It’s easier to ignore it than confront it sometimes.

This time it’s gone much further.

I’ve been trying to call him, to talk to him for months and months.

He’s been out of reach

no phone

out of reach.

Now it’s an emergency

masses in his body

around his lungs

around his heart

in his lymph nodes

in his brain

oh fuck.

he has to be in pain

and this is what pains me the most

i also feel bad that we haven’t kept in contact

he isn’t much of a letter writer

and doesn’t really do the whole internet thing

and doesn’t seem to have a phone

so the only way I know would be to actually show up

on his doorstep

hoping that is still where he is.

Even if we haven’t talked since we told him that we were expecting a baby

about a year ago now

I still wouldn’t ever want anyone to be in pain

especially not those that I love

especially not my family and close friends.

My sister said he was all choked up when she came back into his hospital room after we hung up

I could hear the strain in his voice, he couldn’t even say I love you back

and it was killing him and I could hear it and I couldn’t do anything

I was bawling and I didn’t want him to know that either

this pains me too.

My father has always been a very strong man, stubbornly strong

and even now he is still that way.

There is a part of me that feels like I need to come to grips with the fact that my father will likely die, soon. The other part of me is asking should I still hold onto threads of hope that he will somehow make it through this? With hope that the doctors will be able to reduce and remove the masses in his brain without majorly affecting him, that he will then be able to continue living his life. That he would then go through Chemo or Radiation or both to eradicate the rest of the masses so he will then be able to continue living his life. This isn’t about me, but I feel like I need something to hold onto because all of it hurts, all of it.

I live on the other side of the world, a 17 hour flight minimum. Baby’s passport will take at least 15 working days from yesterday. Time is short. Every day, every minute counts. It’s so easy to take life and all of the chances. I’ve been living my life, married now and haven’t been back to visit my family once in five years. I did strangely say that I would either be back in one year or five years when I left the states, I just wasn’t expecting nor wanting this to be the reason why.

He is just 60 years old. He isn’t even at retirement age yet. Not that he has a typical job, he hasn’t since I was just a wee little one. Most others of his generation bought into the work all your life so you can take it easy when you retire at 65 and live your golden years relaxing. However, that is the time when the body slows down, the health issues start creeping in. My dad at least was determined to make his own rules and live life how he wanted to, on his own terms, not saving anything until retirement age, burning like a holy roman candle, a mad one he is.