TW: Child Injury, Trauma.
I've always been what the spiritual world calls "sensitive". In fact, I have always been a full blown empath. The New Oxford dictionary describes this as "a person who has the paranormal ability to apprehend the mental or emotional state of another individual." to put it simply, I can feel the emotional energy of a person.
Now, being that I have always been sensitive, it would come as no shock that I would also pick up a few more gifts along the way. Luckily for me, I don't see spirits as some others do; but I do hear them occasionally, and I am clairvoyant (clear seeing) claircognizant (clear knowing) and clairsentient ( clear feeling).
Some people are born with the ability of communicating through extra sensory and often it's through generational abilities. Other's can train themselves to learn abilities (yes everyone is capable). However, one of the most common ways that an individual unlocks their gifts is through trauma. While it sounds unfortunate, and most times it is; it can be a blessing in disguise. In fact, this is where my gifts began to develop, through trauma.
Two years ago in May, my third born son, Desmond, fell out of the second story window. Face first. Onto our CONCRETE driveway. This is extremely hard for me to write about because even now, I still have triggers that send me into panic attacks from PTSD. For the purpose of example though, I will write in detail what my husband and I experienced...
The first thing was the screaming. The shrill panic inducing scream that came from my second born son, Wesley. It was the kind of scream that makes your blood run cold. Before I had a chance to ask what was going on, Wesley was barreling down the stairs shouting about how Desmond had just fallen out of the window. As these words hit my ears, my brain could not process what was being said. A moment of "what...?" As my husband and I ran out the front door to investigate this claim, I was stopped dead in my tracks at the front stoop.
I thought he was dead. My first thought as I saw my baby lying there motionless on the ground face down in a pool of his own blood was..."he's dead". I couldn't move for what seemed like forever. I was in shock. My husband however, ran to him immediately and scooped him up in his arms and brought him into the house, to clean up the blood on his head. It was crazy how the human brain cannot process something so intense until after a few moments. It suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks... "CALL 911" my brain was shouting at me. I grabbed my phone and dialed the one number you never want to have to dial; while shaking uncontrollably.
"911 what's your emergency?". Suddenly all the panic and pain came flying out of my mouth. I can't even begin to tell you how many times they had to tell me to calm down so they could get the information. I think the very first thing out of my mouth was our address and told them to get here immediately. The operator was so calm and helped talk me down while we waited for eternity for the ambulance to arrive. It was not even 3 min after my phone call that the fire department arrived and right after them, the ambulance. Every single neighbor on our block was outside. One neighbor went inside to take care of the other 3 kids without us even asking, another neighbor with medical background was helping us before the ambulance had arrived, another neighbor was hugging me, and while my husband Paul had hopped into the ambulance with our son, bloody shirt, no shoes; another neighbor offered to drive me to the hospital to be with them.
It felt almost impossible to leave my month old baby at home with the neighbors. Yes, we also had a one month old baby at the time. My body was still in recovery from birth and I was his only food source. Luckily I had been saving some of my milk. We arrived at the local hospital; my neighbor asked the desk lady where my son was and they escorted us back where I see my husband just completely wrecked, and my child being worked on by what felt like 15 different people. They were asking us questions that I could barely process because I just wanted to be next to my baby.
When Paul and I had a moment together he started to tell me about how he could see Desmond's brain pushing out through the opening of his skull ( Sorry for the graphic imagery ). The medical personnel told us that they were going to airlift him to the trauma hospital in Seattle and only one of us could go. Although it was so hard for me, we both decided since our newborn baby needed me immediately, that Paul would make the journey by helicopter with Desmond. Paul still did not have shoes on and was covered in blood. They weren't going to let him on the helicopter like that, so a doctor brought him a spare scrub top and my neighbor gave him the shoes off his feet. Talk about humans coming together to make things work!
My neighbor rushed me home so I could grab an overnight bag for myself and Paul, and of course, my newborn Fox. Without any hesitation my neighbor drove me over an hour to the trauma center as it was nearing 9pm. I was silent the whole way down, tears showing no signs of stopping, legs shaking, and the worry about my child "is he going to make it?". After what felt like forever, we finally get to the hospital and I make a B line for my son. My neighbor brought all of our items while I carried the baby and the doctors were working on tests etc. when I finally saw him in the triage. I thanked our neighbor and he left us so he could get back to his family.
We were asked to wait in the family waiting room while they tried to stabilize him. A few hours of just waiting and holding each other tight in the late hours of the night in a waiting room not knowing if our son was going to live or die was agony. Eventually they brought us to a private waiting room, like the size of a typical powder room in a home with one uncomfortable small couch and a chair. They told us we could stay there as long as we needed while we wait for news. They sat us down and told us they stabilized him but he's in critical condition. They told us what the outcomes may or may not be. They told us to try to rest if we could, but how could we? For my baby Fox's sake, I tried to sleep and maybe got increments of 15 min at a time.
Paul would go back where Desmond was hooked up and check on him. I was too scared to at first. I was having a really hard time with it. I finally did, and I couldn't stop thinking "he doesn't look like him". His whole face was swollen, there was a tube down his throat, wires all over and IV's. I held his hand and talked to him. He wouldn't respond because they had him in a medically induced coma. He had a couple seizures in that time and I believe we waited for a whole day before we were told he's going to make it, but it's going to be a journey.
Within a few days, they were able to pull him out of his coma, remove his breathing tube as well as the feeding tube after getting him to take a few bites and swallow on his own. He had to eat only super soft foods so he wouldn't choke. They had a monitor implanted in his head to measure the swelling in his brain. It was like a metal antennae just sticking right out of his head. I think it was the 3rd or 4th day they were able to remove that. By this time, Paul and I still weren't getting a lot of sleep but we were with him all day every day watching his progress give us hope. They told us that because he fell on his face and his bones broke in just the right way, it allowed his brain swelling to have space and not cause too much pressure which essentially is what causes the most brain damage.
We spent a week at Harbor View trauma center, and then they ok'd him to transfer to Seattle Children's Hospital where they were so thorough, kind, and attentive. While he was there he had facial/ cranial surgery to repair his broken nose, eye socket, cheek, and forehead. During the same surgery, the neurosurgeon repaired his dura (the sac around your brain that retains your CSF: cranial spinal fluid) which had almost been completely obliterated. With that surgery completed successfully, it looked like we were in a good spot as far as fearing complications.
Then of course AFTER the surgery we discover he has two broken wrists. Which had begun to heal on their own already. They told us we could have him get another surgery where they would re-break the bone and set it, or we could just let it heal kind of wonky. After careful consideration and all that he had been through we just decided to let them cast his left arm (the worst of the two) and brace his right arm.
Over the course of 3 more weeks, it was a constant slew of doctors, nurses, specialists, surgeons, and many others. He was put on anti seizure medication, and steroids which made him a very emotional and grumpy guy. -Hey, I don't blame him-. He was always so good about holding still for pokes and prods, xrays etc but he did get scared of the CTscans which, most normal adults get anxious about... so I think he did well, considering. We were moved through at least 4 different hospital rooms during our month long stay. I would be home with the kids most days and come spend the weekends for full days, but I drove down to see him almost every single day. Over an hour each way and it never bothered me. I could never get there quick enough.
My husband formed a strong bond with him during that time, and to this day they have a special bond over it which is awesome because when Desmond was a baby, he didn't want anything to do with Paul. Lots of therapy later, we have a strong thriving 5 year old who is starting Kindergarten in the fall. He is so sweet, so funny, and a down right miracle. They told us, statistically kids that come into the hospital in that condition rarely make it, and if they do, they end up having many complications including paralyzation or brain death etc. You would never know that he even had such a life altering experience from how well he's doing, except of course all the neat scars he has now. ;)
So now that I've summed up that traumatizing experience, you can see how that might have changed a few things in me. When all the worrisome stuff was over and my body could relax a little, I suddenly started feeling my spirit guides. I remember distinctly hearing them comfort me and feeling their warmth like a true warm fuzzy feeling. I started having prophetic dreams (predictive dreams), I was able to look at a picture of someone who had passed on and tell their relatives how they died with great accuracy. One night I had the most intense rush of sudden understanding and knowing of the universe. I had awakened. I suddenly didn't fear death any longer, I felt comfort knowing that there is more than just being human, and that I had the power to help others.
So because of this one tragic moment in my life, I now know true comfort and love. Events from my life now have meaning and make sense. I aim to help others discover themselves, just not the way that I did. I thank the universe everyday for sparing my child and showing me pure love. If I am able to help even just one person, I will have been fulfilled.
If you have stayed with me through this whole post, I appreciate you and the time you've given me to hear my story. What's your story? Tell me all about your awakening in the comments below, or tell me about experiences you've heard!
Love and Light my Dreamers
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