Like every other morning, I awoke to go for my usual morning run, from around the university to down-town London (Ontario), and back. Nothing major, just a quick wake-up.
I hadn’t felt sick when I got out of bed, but by the time I got outside, I was already exhausted. I started my run anyhow, which began heading down hill, but I just couldn’t do it…Oddly, coupled with the exhaustion, I felt as though I was being choked.
That choking feeling was so terrible, (so much so that I couldn’t wear anything close to my neck), and became a very tell-tale sign, and the very reason I knew we’d done it again, despite being so careful.
It was during my second year of studying fashion design, late in the summer of 1997 that I learned I was pregnant. I was standing in front of the mirror at school, being fitted by my partner, when I lost consciousness. This was unusual in and of itself, as never in my life had I fainted before.
To the doctor I went, and that’s when I learned I was pregnant. I don’t recall the moment when I was told, nor telling my (then) boyfriend, at all. What I do recall is his support. He’d made it clear from the very beginning, that he would go with whatever decision I made.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go through with the pregnancy, despite having such an incredible man by my side, and as heart-wrenching as it was, I’d made the decision to end it.
Only a year had passed since I left home, and I’d only just begun my own healing process, though I felt more screwed up than ever. (I’d been seeing a psychiatrist for much of the time, since running away, who’d immediately suggested anti-depressants, which we were dead against.)
I myself, felt like a child, and didn’t see myself mentally fit to be a mother. In hindsight (and in a story I’ll be sharing soon), with the decision that I’d made, I’d broken a pattern that otherwise would have seen me follow in my mother’s footsteps. Already by then, through my environment, I’d adopted her state of depression, as my own, a state which hung over me like a black cloud.
Again, I don’t at all remember how my boyfriend fared, and if we conversed about it since, my memory fails me. I know that ending the pregnancy took its toll on him too, but i can only speak for myself in saying that it was devastating for me. Though we were eight weeks along, after letting go, I felt like I’d lost a part of myself.
I had already been talking to the being that was growing inside of me, as there were moments when I doubted my decision and thought I could actually go through with the pregnancy.
For months I was in mourning and made very little contact with anyone. I’d go to school, without a care as to how I looked- no makeup, nor did I dress up anymore. I’d throw on my boyfriends clothes, which helped me, hide and drown deep into my sorrows. I’d cry on the bus, behind my sunglasses, in bathroom stalls at school, anywhere, and everywhere-in secret.
I wrote a lot, about how nothing mattered, and everything seemed so superficial.
I would do my coursework diligently, and in solitude, but even then, there came a point where I contemplated dropping out of the fashion design program to go back to UWO (University of Western Ontario), to study psychology. To be studying fashion seemed so lame to me…
“How on earth am I contributing to the good of humanity?” I contemplated, time and time again.
Thank God and the powers that Be, though, that I stayed the course, as in hindsight, I see how doing what I loved, (even though I was far from “happy,”) probably saved me, just like it did and has, my mother on numerous occasions.
Rather than to become lost in time, and dwell in the situation, whilst I was creating, (whether clothes, or painting, or drawing), I was intently tuned into the present moment.
It even gives me goose-bumps in even writing this, how I was practising “being,” in the midst of such darkness.
We were ever so careful after that, and as the doctor recommended, found an alternative to the old “pull out method,” of birth control. I was vehemently against anything unnatural in my body, due to the fragility of my mind, hence opted against birth control pills, and chose a “diaphragm.”
Though it was tedious, we used it, except once, and that’s all it took.
That familiar choking feeling returned, and this time I knew.
I went to the doctor and surely, he confirmed that I was pregnant. Again. Just over a year after the first pregnancy.
My mental state hadn’t changed, and in fact, it was becoming increasingly worse. This time, instead of despair, I was so angry at myself, so very angry for allowing it to happen, yet again.
“How stupid and irresponsible could I possibly be?!”
Once again, I kept it inside of me. I don’t even know if my boyfriend was discussing it with anyone, but I honestly don’t remember telling a soul, except my psychiatrist. I couldn’t go to my family, because we still weren’t talking at the time, and it would have further broken us. In fact, I only just told my parents on the last day of 2013, during our immense healing together.
I’d held this story very close to my heart, and every single cell of my body, until November 2010, to be exact, where there was an important shift.
Whilst visiting my parents, three years ago, back in London, Ontario, I decided to visit a healer, for something that was causing me great pain.
From the moment I entered her space, I felt at totally at peace with Jamie McGrail. Over the course of the time I was with her, she associated my problem to my root chakra (which at the time, I knew very little about), and with it came the information which put another puzzle piece of my life into place.
She told me something that I never in my life, had heard of before, which I now do on a regular basis, for myself and encourage others to do, in their own healing process.
“To forgive myself.”
I needed to forgive myself for not having gone through the pregnancies.
I didn’t comprehend at first, as I didn’t feel angry with myself anymore over what had transpired 15 years earlier. I didn’t know I had to, or that I could even forgive myself.
It didn’t at all make sense, like it does now, but I trusted Jamie.
There was energy that was stuck in my root chakra, contributing to the problem I had at that time, and in order to release it, I needed to forgive “me.”
She told me that the two spirits were present, around me and had already forgiven me, but I needed to do the same, to complete the healing process.
Already I was welling up when she was telling me this, as I wasn’t only hearing her words, but really feeling them, with the depths of my being.
When I got into the car, for a few moments I sat there and cried my eyes out, thanking the two spirits for forgiving me, for their love and guidance, and I then, forgave myself.