Happy Birthday Emma

Well, the countown is over. My baby girl is 8 years old and if yesterday was the family day then today was all about me!

Before I left for my, "take care of my inner spirit" day I picked a card from my Law of Attraction deck and my Inner-Self deck. I know it kinda sounds like hocus pocus, but I do this everyday to center my focus and guide my intentions. Most days the card I pick really matches up with the tasks ahead of me, but today I was overwhelmed with my alignment. Today I picked, "I can relax into my natural well-being" and "I am not here to create sameness". I definatley intended to do both.

"I am one with God. I am more than enough. I am one with Emma. I am strong. I am a good mother. I am healing." are the powerful sentences I reapeated over and over in my head as I was lying face down for (hands down) the BEST massage of my life. Even so, tears escaped my eyes and dripped to the floor causing the massuse, massoose (how do you spell that word?) to silently hand me tissues under the sheet. Now, seriously, how was I supposed to use those tissues? I was face down, my head stuffed in that oblong shaped thing and had no access to my eyes. But, still, it was sweet of her. The most amazing part is I was competly unabashed. When I walked in the door I said, "I may be emotional. Today is my daughter's birthday", just so she wasn't competely blind sighted by my potential outbursts. How she made sense of tears as a response to my daughter's birthday, I have no idea. But, here's my perspective, this is my process and I am NOT here to create sameness! I have walked this grieving road long enough to be aware that anywhere and anytime is a possible opportunity for a heart reaction and it is my job to embrace it.

Embrace is a perfect word for today. After the massage (where I truly did "relax into my being") I was treated to a facial. I may shock some of you when I say, I AM 32 YEARS OLD AND HAVE NEVER HAD A FACIAL! It's true, well, until today that is. It was scrumptously amazing. So, on my sweet angel's birthday I opened myself to a new experience. But it gets better.

My friend teaches yoga and reiki at the spa resort. She treated me to a private class designed just for my healing. The seven shakras (again - spelling?) of the body combined with their affirmations shot me back to the hospital room and visions of a still baby leaving my hands, forever, but then something mindblowing happened.

On my mat in a position (ironically called the "corpse" pose) I was transcended, kind of . Cognitively, I knew I was in the solarium on a mat, but I was standing on a cliff, my toes reaching out over the rocks and my body slightly rocking. I guess you could say I was teetering on the "Proverbial" edge. I sensed there was a decision to make. I peeked down to the depths below me and could see that hospital room, see Emma in her tiny infancy, see the nurses taking possession of her, and see myself crumbling away - a shattered heart with a body for a shell.

Then, I looked up. I would love to say that I saw Emma or even some angelic symbol of her shimmering in the heavenly aura, but I can't. In fact, I didn't see anything. (not even my friend holding her hands only inches over me ) No, I felt deep in my inner gut, I knew, like the student who just opened the test booklet and felt a surge of relief that he knew the first answer.I knew that my path was up.

I knew the memory of Emma's physical body wasn't nearly as powerful as her angelic spirit. It is her spirit that has led me through years of emotional crisis to a hopeful place, an inspirational place. It is her spirit that brings rainbows, red leaves, and perfectly times songs on the radio. And so, I took a step over that cliff, but I didn't fall. I was lifted toward my higher self, my constanly evolving self, and it felt good. Simultaneoulsy, my chest heaved with sobs and the tears streamed from my eyes to the mat. I wept because making that choice not to allow my memories to lead my path was like a goodbye. I felt like I was letting go of my security blanket after eight years of holding it close. It is a fine line, because my grief will never dissapear, but I will not permit it to possess me, I am in control and "breaking up" with the images was a process in itself.

I checked out from the world today and checked-in with myself. The good news is I am doing the best I can. The better news is the world didn't stop just because I did. Emma was very busy today! Her most impressive miracle came in the form of a phone call at 4pm, exactly when I arrived home. To fully comprehend the massive nature of this miracle would require much explanation, so let me just say we, as a family, were waiting for something for nine months and this Wednsesday it was going to happen. Three weeks ago I got a call that it was not going to happen and we were back, indefinately, on the list. Today, we were allerted that there was a "freak" opening, this Wednesday and "did we want to come?". "YES! YES! YES!" I practically screamed into the phone as the receptionist had no idea that her "freak" opening was exactly the day we were supposed to come in the first place.

If I keep walking, one step at a time, towards her spirit our mother /daughter connection will stregthen, will grow and our hearts will form an integrated front. I'm listening Emma, guide me.

2 Days And Counting - "The Burning Bush"

After Emma was stillborn a slew of gifts arrived our way. There were cards, flowers, plants, and even some cash. We were grateful for all of it and used the money to pick the most beautiful baby headstone we could find.

The burning bush given to my parents, however, was the gift that became our focus. It was a living thing to gather around, to plant, to care for, to watch grow, and any other number of metaphors you could easily put in the same sentence when refering to your baby. Now, understand I am not a real "flower" person. In fact, my mother finally stopped giving me plants for gifts because withing weeks, they were withering. But, this burning bush was something different for me. It represented so many esoteric feelings and tangible moments for me. It was my first earthly link to Emma.

The first bush was planted at my parents house. J. and I didn't own a house yet and that was the home I had lived in for the entirity of my childhood. On a breezy day in mid Sept, 2000 Grandma, Grandpa, Nana, Papa, J. and I gathered to plant Emma's burning bush. In a grand ceremony kind of way, that none of us really though about..but just unfolded, we each took a turn digging into the ground, tossing in some fertalizer, then - when the bush was settled, the rotation began again for placing the dirt back into the earth and watering. After, we shared a family meal and attempted to enjoy each other's company.

In order to really understand the magnitude of this easy, holiday like scene, it is key to know our families' dynamics. (these are just the facts now...no judgement here!) I am the product of two city raised post graduates who moved to the country, but couldn't really be called "country folk". After a few years their only child was born, and although not overly spoiled, was definately doted upon with a strong focus.

J. is the oldest son in a farming family. Chores, responsibities, farm odors, hard long hours, and a weekly majority of meat & potatoes was the lifestyle from his early days. We make a great pair, but our parents, and rightfully so, sometimes struggle to see the world through the other's eyes. There are often questioning eyebrows or befuddled faces when the topics of slaughtering or seminars are brought up.

So now you see how unique our experience that day was, sitting around the table, discussing (to be honest I don't even remember what) but it was a calm, easy, low-tide discussion. There were no raised eyebrows or befuddled expressions. Emma was with us. She was our reason for gathering. She performed one of her countless miracles that day and harmoniously brought together the families of a Romeo and Juliet like relationship.

There are currently three burning bushes planted for Emma Grace. J. and I bought a house about a year after her passing, and my parents gave us one for the front yard. I was so touched by the stone work my husband did, creating an "endless circle" of flat stones around the bush to keep her safe and show our neverending love. Two years ago, my parents moved to a new house and didn't want to run the risk of transplanting the original bush, so they erected another. What a masterful show for a tiny soul. Well done Emma.

Every year on her birthday I take a picture of our bush, I measure it and record its height like you would with your child, and I cry tears of joy, appreciation, sadness, meloncholy, and inspiration as every leaf turns flaming red in the fall as if to say, "I am here. I know this when you focus on me the most and when your hurt the most. So, see my red leaves and know - I am here, mommy".

This year, the most amazing thing happened. Two weeks ago, on Bear's first day of Kindergarten, as we walked by the bush and I turned, like I always do, to say hello, I noticed a flash of color. "No Way!" I told myself. "Fall isn't here yet and the weather had been unseasonably warm. Your bush can't be turning yet!" But as I walked closer, silent tears slid down my cheeks. One, single, solitary leaf was red.

"Mommy" Bear yelled "Let's go to Kindergarten" as The Comedian was pulling on my pant leg. I wiped my tears away and called them over to the bush. "Look" I said, "Just one leaf is red on your sister's bush". Then Bear, in her 'matter-of-fact', all-knowing, odd topics don't bother her, kind of voice said, "Yeah. Emma came to wish me good luck". Of course she did, I thought. Of course.

Bear's world-colliding abilities are a post for another day, but I will tell you that the leaf is no longer red. It has gone back to green, like it's hundreds of brothers and sisters. They will all turn red, soon, but she was here for just a day, just like Bear said.

God bless each and every one of you hurting, grieving mothers who are looking for your miracles. Keep an open mind and a wide-open heart and your baby will find you.

A similar soul,

Cara