A Manifesto

I heard Cheryl Strayed speak once about why she wrote her memoir, Wild. She said up until that point, her life was completely encompassed by the loss of her mother. The question that consumed her, "Why did she leave so young and so early?" framed her life.

That's how it feels for me with abortion. It began 30 years ago, in 1988, when my childhood BFF found out she was pregnant after being date raped (and drugged?) at a college party. She had been a virgin and had no idea she was pregnant.  Four years later, it became more personal for me when I found myself with an unplanned pregnancy.

Like Cheryl Strayed, there has been one experience that has framed my life. It all revolves around abortion. I've spent decades asking myself two interrelated questions.

Having been raised in a fairly strict Catholic household, the first question was "How do I get past this?", because the fact is, for me especially with my religious upbringing, it had some pretty intense fallout. Especially when I started having my own family and was able to "see" my decision as I watched my babies come into the world.

Once I was on my way to finding the answer to the first question, the second question that began to take over my brain was "Why does abortion exist?". I am still wrestling with that question. I have a lot of thoughts and information from my own experience and from listening to the stories of other women who made the same choice I did. I love the way the Universe works and I am seeing a tapestry being woven as I lean into this question with curiosity.

My purpose and direction gets refined and is having more clarity with time. The continued threat to a woman's reproductive freedom gives it more urgency. There are three distinct components to it.

I believe many women who've had an abortion(s) and have feelings of regret or grief afterwards often feel alone. The Pro-choice movement denies that there are aftereffects, so they mostly likely cannot find support there. The Pro-Life movement condemns their action. They may feel left behind or left out. Where can they turn? Where do they fit in now? Building community for women who've experienced abortion is the first part of my mission.

The second piece is to help those who have unresolved feelings from their abortion to come to terms with those feelings. After spending over a decade on find the answers for myself to question #1, I've come up with a three part process to help women address those feelings and bring them back to wholeness. Healing for women who've experienced an abortion is the second component of my work. 

The last aspect I feel deeply committed to is to bring healing to the divisiveness in our country around this issue. I think most women who've had an abortion never dreamed they'd be part of this "club" and would have preferred not to ever faced that decision. But our world, is not a perfect and safe place. We make this decision because it is the least onerous one for us. How can we make this world a different and better place where this choice isn't so necessary? There are ways to reduce abortion without taking away a woman's reproductive freedom. I believe we can come to more peaceful resolutions around this issue. This third component is imperative. 

Who am I? I am a woman, a mother, a sister, a daughter, a granddaughter and a girlfriend.

I believe in women's freedom, women's intuition and our ability to make good decisions.

I believe in the power of sisterhood to transform lives and the world.

I believe Divinity lives inside us and wholeness, happiness and joy are our birthrights.

And I believe the power of love and connection can make anything possible.

Are You Ready for Rebirth?

“Where is the man with the drugs?” I demanded. “You are all lying to me aren’t you? You say he’s coming, but he’s not, is he? You’re all full of it!”

I should state here that this was not one of my finest moments during the delivery of my second child and biggest baby. This week he will be sixteen. If you read last week’s blog, you know his younger brother was also born in October, so January seems to have been a particularly fertile month for me!


Born on October 17, 1998, he was 8 pounds 11 ½ ounces when he made his way into the world three days past his due date. Even though he took his time deciding when he was ready to be born, once he made the choice, he was here faster than you say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. Well, almost.

Just before he was born, I remember screaming, “Get it out, get it out now!” as I pushed him through the birth canal. I had not been prepared for a natural birth, or such a large baby. I had never felt such excruciating pain before in my life.

Moments later I was holding a beautiful, healthy baby boy in my arms. From extraordinary pain to utter bliss in an instant!


As I look back on the last sixteen years with my oldest son, and especially his birth, I can see how so much of my transformation after my pregnancy losses required a similar dedication and desire. One of my book mentors talks about how writing a book is like birthing a baby. Transforming your pain into love after a pregnancy loss is not much different.

First, it’s important to consciously choose to heal the pain, numbness or isolation that you are living with, just like it’s important to consciously choose to have a baby when you are ready. I was most conscious of my choice to have this child, as I knew what parenting was like already from having a daughter. My son was conceived during the week of his grandmother's death - another example of pain and grief being transformed into love. Making the decision, myself, whether choosing to have a baby or anything else that requires effort, is a critical part of a successful outcome. Choosing to heal and to move on is not for the faint of heart. You have to really want to move forward for your feelings of forgiveness to take root. No one can make this choice for you.

Secondly, it does take time. Just like having a baby or writing a book, transforming your way of living with loss requires a different way of being and one that takes time to learn. It’s a special kind of journey: one where we need to be gentle and patient with ourselves. Some things need to marinate a bit before they are ready to be felt, seen or talked about. There were moments when I was pregnant, I couldn't wait to see my baby boy. But we both needed the time we had to prepare not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. There's no hurry.

Thirdly, it’s important to know that there will be moments when it’s hard to stay the course, and you will want and need support. There were moments of extreme morning sickness, and then of course, wanting drugs at his birth. There is a sisterhood of women out there who have been through pregnancy loss and can help others get through this often emotionally difficult path. One in every three women will have had an abortion in their lifetime. One in every two women will experience a miscarriage. There are lots of women who can help you navigate the current and stay the course to achieve wholeness. We are here for you.

Lastly, it’s vital to see a vision of what can be once the grieving and healing has taken place. I held a vision of my new baby and my new family in my heart and my mind during the tough times of pregnancy. For healing after pregnancy loss, it's a little harder, but based on the statistics, there are a ton of us at some point in the cycle. I’ve met a few women in my life who were willing to talk about this and show me the end game after going through all the shame, guilt, and pain. However, I have found many who were willing to live a half-hearted life afterwards because it was far easier to live in a way that was known and comfortable than to take the risk to release the grief. When we share with each other, we help ourselves AND our sisters on the path.

I want for you what I have found for myself – a whole hearted, joy-filled life complete with meaning and intention.

Who is ready to rebirth themselves?

Who wants to live boldly, love joyfully, and be loved fully?
I hope everyone reading this post raised their hand and shouted out loud “ME!”


Namaste.

By the way, here is the link to tonight's show with Mama Char. I hope you enjoy the show!

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/mamachar

What We Resist Does Indeed Persist

Do you experience struggle in your life?

And how does that affect your children?

This past weekend, Oprah had clinical psychologist and conscious parenting expert Dr. Shefali Tsabary as her guest on her popular TV show, Lifeclass. In a segment on sibling rivalry, Dr. Shefali asked one of the parents who complained about the arguments between her boys what battles she had in her own life. Talk about cutting to the chase! This mother knew right away exactly what she meant. Instantly, we learned about her recent life and death battle with metastatic breast cancer. Her inner struggles were being reflected outwardly through the sibling rivalry between her children.

As Carl C. Jung says “What you resist, persists”, and those hurdles tend to show up in the lives of the people and environment closest to us.

Last December a study on the relationship between traumatic events and inheritance was reported by the BBC. “The findings provide evidence of "transgenerational epigenetic inheritance" which means that the environment can affect an individual's genetics, which can in turn be passed on.” Now science is beginning to see that our unhealed wounds may be showing up in the future generations that are born from our genetic inheritance. Now that’s an eye-opener to me!

There is another scientific phenomenon that I have recently learned about called microchimerism. Microchimerism is when two genetically distinct cell populations are found in the same individual. It happens most often from pregnancy. Scientists have found that fetal cells can linger in the uterus years after the pregnancy is over, whether by pregnancy loss or birth. These cells can be found in the mothers, twins, or even siblings born many years later.  

To apply that theory into perspective to my life, my grandmother had an abortion prior to the birth of my mother. It is very possible that the cells from the aborted pregnancy were not only in my grandmother, but also shared with my mother, her next child. I have recently learned that I may have had a missing twin in utero that miscarried early in my mother’s pregnancy with me. Do I carry cells from my lost sister in my body? The possibilities are incredible to think about. This is a different situation than transgenerational epigenetic inheritance, but both ideas raise the same questions:

• How much awareness do we have of our ancestors’ lives on a physical level?
• Is it an accident that my grandmother had an abortion and I, her grandchild, did also?
• Is there healing that I can do to minimize this possibility happening in my daughter or granddaughter or great grand-daughter's life down the road?

• Plus how much of my ancestors’ stress and trauma do I carry in my body and how much of that, plus my own, am I passing down to my own children?  

I don’t know the answer to these questions… yet. But I do know that what I take charge of and heal myself from not only helps me be a happier and aligned human being, it also has the potential to do that for my descendents as well.

Wherever our pain lies, in secrets or shame from our past, I believe the greatest hope for the future lies in healing ourselves first. And then, finally, what does not persist, cannot exist.

 

Namaste.

Why We Really Need to Tell Our Stories

My good friend and author Susan Westbrook, of the extraordinary new book The Five TibetansYoga Workshop, believes that “We tell our story so others will tell theirs.” It is in telling our story that we give others permission not only to tell theirs, but if we do it right, sharing with an open heart and deep vulnerability, then they will share their story the same way.

But sharing our stories honestly and with integrity isn’t always easy to do.

Last week, at a conference of transformational leaders and visionaries from around the globe, I had the opportunity to speak to the concern of being vulnerable and authentic in storytelling.

I shared with the audience how difficult that experience was for me. I wrote no less than six drafts of my story for the Amazon bestseller, Pebbles in the Pond –Wave 2. I think the actual number was eight, with the final version coming out in draft nine. Each draft took me deeper into the land of vulnerability and opening my heart. Each draft brought me closer to the truth of who I was. You see, by committing to writing this story, I had also made a commitment to myself. Sharing my story has certainly given others a place of comfort in sharing theirs, but it also gave me a chance to know myself better; to take responsibility for my life, and to finally begin to live as an empowered woman, not a victim.

Writing and sharing my story was a spiritual practice; one that brought me profound inner healing. 

What I didn’t share at the conference last week was that writing my story was not something I consciously chose to do. Just like being awoken from the repressed feelings of my abortion when I had a miscarriage, the sharing of my story was something that chose me.

I spent years doing the inner work I needed to do to heal from my abortion. And yet each time I thought I was done with it, I received a message from the Universe gently letting me know that there was still much more work around this subject that needed to be addressed. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t escape it. My grandmother’s confession was my first realization of that, but over time the message was felt in other ways as well.

Never in a million years did I imagine I would write about pregnancy loss, abortion and our unborn children – definitely all of them suppressed, stigmatized and “woo woo” subjects. I was forty years old before I knew that my life’s work would include a significant component of energy around these experiences. Even then I did not envision that I would be writing about them for the whole world to read.

But this thing that I did not imagine, it kept coming back to me. Just when I thought I was done dealing with my abortion, my unborn daughter, or my grandmother’s startling news she shared with me, these events would weave their way into my prayers and dreams and remind me of their presence, of their stories and of their love.

Yes, it is true that I tell my story so others can more easily tell theirs. I also tell my story as a conduit so that my grandmother’s story and my unborn daughter’s presence can be acknowledged and appreciated. You see, for in doing so, in listening to the inner promptings to open my heart and let out the good, the bad, and the ugly, I find I am transformed as well.

Thank you Mor-Mor and Mary, for reminding me of this fact last week.

Namaste.

 

Freeing Your Energy For Love

My guest blogger today is Garet Bedrosian. She is a body oriented psychotherapist whose life mission has been to understand the ways we come to know ourselves through the relationships we form with one another. She believes that our minds and bodies are inextricably linked and healing requires we address both. She is a certified IMAGO relationship therapist and workshop presenter for Getting the Love You Want for couples’, Keeping the Love You Find for individuals and Recovering Our Connection for recovering couples. She is an international speaker and trainer and teaches around the world. www.garetbedrosian.com


As Katie sat on the sofa in my office, she dropped her head and said she needed to tell me something she’d never told anyone before. Katie’s bowed head and collapsed torso told me she was struggling with something about which she felt shame and possibly regret. She was energetically holding against emotional pain therefore causing physical constrictions. This chronic constriction was depleting her vitality.

I waited quietly and held a space of compassion while she found the courage to speak the unspeakable. The next words out of Katie’s mouth were, “I had an abortion. I am so ashamed and I think God is punishing me by not letting me get pregnant now.”


When Katie was 20 and in college she had gotten swept away by a handsome student who pursued her with promises of eternal love. She could imagine a future with him. Unfortunately, a pregnancy did not fit into his plans so he disappeared and left her alone to figure it out.

Although she believed she had come to terms with her decision, 10 years later she was still struggling with the mental, emotional and physical affects of this experience. Speaking her secret to a safe witness was the beginning. Healing the bodily held constrictions gave her peace.

I have countless examples of women and couples that have had to come to terms with a past or present abortion. Most believe their choice was the right one for their situation and have come to terms with it yet are reluctant to share their stories because they are ashamed or afraid of being judged. Holding on to shame, fear or self-judgement is akin to swallowing poison. That toxicity needs to be released from the body to allow the energetic life force to flow freely which is vital to living a life of joy and passion.

Jane came to therapy because she was feeling stuck and was missing those feelings of aliveness. Nothing she did seemed to bring her joy so she typically avoided new experiences or quit most things she started. After a year of therapy she told me about the three abortions she had, two before they started a family and one after her second child was born. Jane believed they were the right choices.

After some talking and body movement she realized she had never had closure. We created a ritual with candles and sea shells she brought to represent each unborn child. She read a poem she had written and through this meaningful process said good-bye. When Jane was done she breathed more deeply and felt a sense of peace she didn’t know she was missing.

No one wants to have an abortion. Some believe they would never get themselves into a situation where they would have to make that decision. Some think they can have an abortion and go on with life as if it never happened. Whether you have come to terms with your choice or the circumstances involved in this decision it will always be a part of your life tapestry. Denying or suppressing the experience only serves to compound the after effects.


As a body-oriented psychotherapist, I believe all of our life experiences are stored in body memory. Not having a safe place to share, grieve, forgive and find closure can contribute to physical, emotional, relational or sexual disharmony. Like Jane who believed she had come to terms with her abortions, there are residual emotions that linger in the recesses of the psyche as well as in the cells and muscles of the body.

To suppress those unwanted feelings the ego makes up negative, sabotaging stories about our worth, our loveability or sometimes even our sanity. The primitive, reptilian brain, concerned only with survival, would rather tell us that no one can be trusted, we are worthless and plague us with shame rather than go through the uncomfortable process of grief.

We have a limited amount of energy in our bodies, and trying to avoid our feelings is a waste of that precious energy. Finding a compassionate person who can help us heal from this plethora of emotions can free the energy needed to suppress them. That energy can then be available for living a more vibrant, authentically expressive life—open and ready to give and receive love. We deserve it.

Finding a safe place to heal your heart, particularly after an abortion can be difficult. If you'd like to know more about Garet, sign up for her mailing list or hear more about her latest upcoming program, Sex, Love and Your Heart, please check out her website.

The Best Day of My Life

Have you heard the hit song by the group, American Authors, The Best Day of My Life? This song makes me want to dance and sing every time I hear it. Instead of nestling in bed with my usual morning prayer, today I woke up with this song stuck in my head. “OO-o-o-o-o-o, today is gonna be the best day of my life!”

But you know what? I didn’t always wake up humming an upbeat tune, jumping out of my bed before the alarm went off, excited to greet the day. In fact, most of my life was spent doing exactly the opposite. I thought if I pulled the covers over my head and stayed in bed just a little while longer, maybe when I got up, my life wouldn’t be so bad. Oy!

It was almost eleven years ago, in the fall of 2003, that I found myself miscarrying an unexpected pregnancy, which in turn rocketed me back mentally to eleven years before that when I had chosen an abortion from my first pregnancy. Because of my Catholic upbringing, which was further intensified by my husband’s studies to become a Catholic Deacon, the repressed shame, fear, guilt, and regret within me imploded with this second pregnancy loss. At the time I was a mother to two young children, aged 4 and 6, working full-time, and overwhelmed with my life. Now I had two dead babies to grieve over. I was alive physically, but spiritually and energetically I was dead.


I believe I would have died after that loss if I did not have my two living children.

But I did have them and they needed me to take care of and protect them.

As much as I loved them, it was not inspired motivation that kept me going. It was more like a solid knowing such as one gets when you know you need a root canal and just have to suck it up and get it done. You’re positive in the knowledge that if you don’t take care of that tooth right now, life can only get worse. It was that kind of motivation.

And so I cracked opened the door to healing. It began with a Catholic retreat, Project Rachel and continued for many years afterwards with much more soul searching. My grandmother’s death in 2004, my embodied children’s sweet love, and finally surrendering to the Universe to teach me the rest, has brought me to a place today where not only am I alive, but I am joyfully so.

Last spring, my daughter was learning how to drive and we decided to go through the drive-through window at …”somewhere.” As she was rounding the first curve of the building, she took it too tightly and the whole back end of the car scraped the concrete post that protected the corner of the building from cars doing exactly what she was doing – cutting their car wheels too closely. Sadly for her, I was not only the only one in the car with her; so were her brothers and another friend.

We made it out of the drive-through holding our breath, and she stayed focused enough to do her best driving back to our house. It turned out when we got home and were brave enough to look at the car, the indentation was easily popped back into place, and the neon orange color from the pole was easily rubbed off the side of my car. In the end, it was a lesson not just for her, but for the other kids in the car who would soon be learning to drive as well. Her experience gave everyone an opportunity for growth.

That is how I now choose to look at my abortion – not as a mistake, but as an opportunity for something more. You see, I was miserable in my marriage, and in fact, was living most of my life even prior to that from a place of disconnection and numbness. Once I really came to terms with my life, I realized I had to make the losses in my life mean something. I wasn’t going to let them define me or my path, but just the opposite. I was determined to use those losses to learn, to be a better person. As with Uma Girish’s loss shared a few weeks ago, deep pain and despair can be a catalyst for incredible transformation.

I am happy to say that I am no longer in an oppressive marriage or doing a job that I despise. I am the writer and published author I always wanted to be. I am also a coach and advocate for women who have had abortions. Like my daughter’s “scraping of the pole at the drive-through” experience, I hope that I can bring awareness and learning for other women so that their experience with abortion does not have to be as debilitating as mine was. As the guy in the above video clip for my current “favorite” song dances with the monster, we too, can dance with our own gremlins and find the best day of our lives is right here and right now too.


Namaste.

Destiny: Predetermined or Taught (Part 2)

Last week I spoke to you about how my initial upbringing as a child helped form some of my outdated and very much unwanted beliefs – ones that I carried well into my adulthood.

I promised you that I’d share where one of my second biggest ‘aha’ moments came from, so here it is.

While I know that many of you who are reading these two blog posts are wondering why you might go back and closely examine your earlier life, I can't reiterate enough how important it is to do this excavation work. Even though every fiber of your being may be screaming, ”Oh my God, I can’t do that. It’s too much! Why would I want to go back there? I do not want to relive that pain!”, you have to. Look at it this way: if you want to start to find out where you are being held back from being your best self, you’ll need to figure out what to erase and change deep inside your memory bank in order to make room for more positive, life-altering growth.

 

So… back to my second pivotal story.

I have shared before about my grandmother, the wind beneath my wings. She had an abortion also, when she was a young bride and mother. I did not know about her abortion until a month before she died. I believe she told me because she was afraid of what would happen next. What would happen to her when she died? Would she live in eternal damnation? Where would her soul go after having made a choice to abort a baby? And I believe she lived much of her life atoning for that choice.

There were many ways we both compromised ourselves to hide our secrets. We abdicated decision-making power in our marriages, afraid we’d make another mistake, and we didn’t want to be responsible for that happening. We were both people pleasers and accommodating of everyone else before ourselves, hoping to be seen as saints rather than the extraordinary sinners we believed ourselves to be. I became a doormat for my husband to walk on, providing my own daughter with a very dysfunctional role model of what a mother should be like. And both my grandmother and I became so busy “doing” rather than “being” there was no time to be still and feel the pain we brought upon ourselves, even if it was “our choice.”

Eventually, I needed to rely on alcohol in the evenings to relax. I have seen other women who have used drugs, including prescription anti-depressants to escape the depression and insomnia that began to manifest years later. Just because we chose to abort does not mean that the decision didn’t hurt.

Hearing my grandmother’s story shifted everything for me. I finally realized that I was not alone in making this type of momentous decision. This understanding changed my life. It gave me the courage to stand up for myself in a one-sided marriage and ask for a divorce. It gave me an opportunity to change the trajectory not only of my life, but my children's lives as well. Now, instead of a doormat, they see a woman who can stand up for herself. This is especially important for my daughter and all of our daughters. This self-realization work that we do is not just for us: it is for future generations to reap benefits from. 

One in every three women has at least one abortion by the time they are age 45. Of those one in three, it is estimated that 72% are already mothers.  Over a million women a year have abortions. We are so not alone. If we can’t see our way to releasing the past for ourselves, maybe knowing we can change the future of our daughters and our world in general is a more compelling reason to continue this journey.

If you have a daughter, ask yourself this question: Am I teaching her all that I can to be her very best self, including leading by example and living by my own values, not just assuming the ones handed down to me? Am I showing her how to take responsibility for her own beliefs and actions? Am I showing her how to fly well and fly powerfully?

 

Namaste.

Destiny: Predetermined or Taught (Part 1)

My parents had a story they loved to tell me when my kids were first born. It was about when I myself was a newborn, perhaps six weeks old at best. 

Although they say I was not colicky, apparently one afternoon during my first spring, I was crying for no reason. Despite their best efforts they couldn’t get me to stop bawling, so they put me in my crib, shut the windows and door to my bedroom, and then left the apartment with me wailing inside. They say they sat on the stoop for over 30 minutes until they were sure I must have stopped crying. Sometimes my dad will tell the story and joke that I learned from that experience to keep my mouth shut. The interesting thing is, over my childhood years, I heard the expression that children should be seen and not heard so many times, that even as a joke, it wore thin pretty quickly. My dad had a quick temper at times and between that parenting philosophy and a devout Catholic upbringing, I grew to be quiet and studious, rarely stepping out of the tight boundaries that were erected around me.  

It’s no wonder that I met and married a man who treated me very much the same way. His ‘normal’ and my ‘normal’ way of living were far from most people’s usual ‘normal’ behavior, but very similar to the type of home environment in which we were each raised. His role model, his step-father, was physically, verbally and emotionally abusive as well as an alcoholic, spendthrift and womanizer. He brought this emotional template into our marriage, along with approximately $35,000 of mostly credit card debt. This was back in 1989.

Despite using birth control religiously, in 1992, less than three years into our marriage, I found out I was pregnant while hospitalized for profuse vomiting. When the doctor told me I was pregnant, I burst into tears. My husband looked at me and said “I know what to do.” I knew what he meant, agreed between my wrenching sobs, and within days I had had an abortion. I am sure that I left my body that day, and while I may have been back in it over the next eleven years in the physical sense of the word, I certainly was not aligned with myself in any way, shape, or form. It wasn’t until a miscarriage in 2003 that the memory of the abortion flooded my being and brought me to my knees, literally and figuratively. 

It took me many years of therapy and other experiences to find answers and wholeness from my pregnancy losses. Along the way, I have learned many valuable lessons, lessons I now believe were available to me because of my experiences with abortion and miscarriage. And with that realization has come a healing that is deep and lasting. My eyes have opened to the incongruence’s of my life to that point, and been the impetus for a transformation of all my long held beliefs about myself, my family, and my religious upbringing.   


One of the biggest lessons I learned in healing was that keeping a secret (and that could be any secret, not just an abortion) kept me stuck right where I was. The more I held onto that secret and repressed it, the heavier the weight guilt, shame and other negative feelings became in my body. That secret took up valuable space that I needed to build a better life. It needed to be released so that my being, in every way possible, could have room for love, joy, and freedom. 

Letting go of all those feelings has been some of the hardest work I’ve ever had to do in finding my way back to being in alignment with my soul. There was another pivotal incident which I’m going to share with you next week that also helped me enormously regain my footing on the path to wholeness. This incident not only changed and transformed me, but it changed the life of my children, most notably my daughter, as well.

And the most amazing thing about this other happening is that it came from a source I least expected: my own family.

Until next week, 

Namaste.

---

 

 

Forgiveness on the Mountain

This poignant reflection was written by a friend of mine who chooses to remain anonymous. Her story is so beautiful, I feel compelled to share it with you this week. Here is a tale of how one woman found a way to release the past.

It was January and surprisingly warm in the mountains for this time of the year.  But the air was still cool enough to make her gasp each time she pulled in a breath.  And though it hasn’t snowed in weeks there were still patches of white frozen in place.  There she sat, at the top of the hill where the wise woman had sent her to talk to Father Wind.  To seek his forgiveness and her own, to let him cleanse her of her sins.

There were two, she admitted to very few.   Two times she was stupid.  Two times she sought to clear herself of the responsibility.  And though she could rationalize the reasons, that didn’t stop the guilt nor the grief at what she’d done.  And so on this beautiful blue morning she sat on a boulder, all alone.  With only the wind calling out from the trees.

And she let herself sink down, into the past.

To a time when she was 19, in love with her first partner.  So grateful to have him, so overcome by the sensations of her body, the freedom she felt in letting herself go in the moment.  She gave in to her desire, to her lust, to her need for him.  She let herself believe it was safe, and she took him inside of her – hot and pulsing, and hers. 

And so, she could find forgiveness for the first.  For being young and naive and in love.  In need of him.  But he had no interest in being a father, and so she gave in.

The second time she held him in her arms.  This time she let herself believe it would be safe if he pulled out and released his seed beyond.  Her love for him, need for him, had only intensified over the years.  How he would beg her to let him be inside of her with no barrier.  To feel her heat, her wetness, her desire for him.  He wore her down, and so she let him. 

For a brief time, it was perfection.  He loved her, his hot breath on her neck, his thrusting filling the longing inside of her.  In his arms, she was desired, beautiful, his.  She was swept up, tossed about, before landing back down as he pulled out and she felt the warm fluid pulse on her belly. 

And so for a second time, she lay on the doctor’s table, looking up at a ceiling with a poster of a forest. Legs splayed, belly cramping, brain cringing as they sucked out blood, and tissue.

So  up on that mountain she sat that afternoon, as warm tears streamed down her face.  And she let them go one at a time.  Let the wind gather up their sweet spirits.  Spirits that had hovered around her all those years because she could not let them go. 

Deep in the pine forest that afternoon, the wind surrounded her, caressed her cheek, as she called out to it.  Called out to it to carry them carefully away, to let them find their peace here in the mountains.  And as the wind grew in strength and power, she called to it again. Swirling now, whipping at her face, cooling the hot tears, filling her lungs and pores with its cleansing. 

And the ones she would never hold in her arms were slowly released from her soul.

One by one, they opened their arms as the wind eased them out into the wilderness. Drifting further and further away.  Free.  At peace.

She sat there for a while longer after the wind had stilled, breathing in the cold air.  Deep full breaths that filled her lungs. 

And for the first time in so many years, she felt a little lighter.  She had found her way to forgiveness.  Up there, on the mountain top that afternoon, she had set them, and herself, free.

 



If you have a written piece you would like to showcase as a guest blogger that speaks to after abortion issues, healing or support, please contact me at christinaehaas63@gmail.com.

Namaste.

Breast Cancer and The Mind - Body Connection

The mind-body connection is being talked about more and more lately. We know now, for example, that stress can be a major factor in causing heart attacks. Eating disorders have emotional triggers. Anxiety can cause acid reflux, nausea, or even vomiting. In her 2013 New York Times bestseller, Mind Over Medicine, Dr. Lissa Rankin writes that “Loneliness can make you sicker than smoking cigarettes.” If loneliness can make you so sick, it is not hard to imagine that illness can be also caused by a deep, lingering shame.

Shame is often referred to as the secret emotion. It’s called a secret one because our shame from a situation compels us to hold onto it, to hide and repress it. If something so universal and prevalent as loneliness can cause illness, then the regret, guilt and shame that many of us feel or felt after an abortion must create quite a cocktail of problems in our bodies.


For years, the question of whether there is a link between abortion and breast cancer has been debated. In many ways, this question seems to be a vehicle for the pro-life and pro-choice camps to put a stake in the ground to further each of their positions. What if we set aside the positioning for a moment and take a different look at this theory?

Christel Nani describes the traits she found in women who have breast cancer in her revolutionary book, Diary of a Medical Intuitive. She observes, “Women with breast cancer almost always have a secret, something they can’t forgive themselves for. This lack of forgiveness lowers their vibration and shuts down the energy flowing to their heart chakra. And the heart chakra, of course, is located near the breasts. In addition, having a guilty secret makes them feel ashamed and gives them a vague sense of owing a debt. It makes them think that they don’t deserve to be happy, to have a good marriage or an easy path in life. The fallout from their guilty secret pervades their entire lives.” 

Christel’s observations in Diary, published in 2004, were ahead of their time. She does not tie breast cancer to abortion per se, but does point out her findings that holding onto a secret is one of the several elements present in causing this disease. Now, ten years later, as we find more and deeper mind-body connections, I wonder if we can start to see the truth in her work. 

One way to get rid of the secrecy is to make our world a safer and more supportive place for women who have had abortions. The organization, Abortion Changes U, began a campaign on March 25 called U R Not Alone. This campaign is being done to show women that they have support in their ability to heal from all over our country. 

It is time for a radical change in thinking.


What if the pro-life movement really was pro-life? What if instead of saying “I told you so” when the aftermath of abortion is identified, we stopped the judgment process long enough for to allow women to grieve, to heal, and to find wholeness - to support the life already here? What if the pro-choice movement stopped denying that there are aftereffects to abortion? What if we were privy to the stories of other women in a way that opens us up to support and community? 

One in every three women in the United States will have had an abortion by the age of 45. Despite this common occurrence, it remains so stigmatized that the mere use of the word in conversation triggers many women. For the sake of our grandmothers, mothers, daughters, sisters, girlfriends, aunts and cousins – for the sake of any woman who has ever had an abortion – won’t you please consider signing your name to the U R Not Alone Campaign? Please let our sisters know that they have support in their healing journey. I believe this can be a powerful first step to bridging the divide and bringing peace to the abortion debates. 

A dear friend of mine once shared with me his fear of not taking the opportunity to help someone in need when it was offered to him. This is a chance to be of service - maybe to one woman, potentially to many of us. Signing this statement of support is an easy way to make a big difference.

Thank you, from my heart, for your support.



Namaste.

The Transformational Power of Love

My journey to healing from abortion was forced upon me more than eleven years after it, in 2003, when I miscarried that year at nine weeks. I had no choice but to pay attention to the devastation I was feeling at the loss of another baby. It wasn’t until the winter of 2012, however, almost twenty years after my abortion, that my healing journey came full circle.

The steps along the way proceeded incrementally, each giving the next the foundation necessary for the subsequent step. I went from acknowledgement to grief. Through grieving, I learned to let go of judgment and forgive myself. And from that acceptance came love and worthiness — the final lesson in healing.


It started in February 2012. I had been reconnecting with high school friends on Facebook, and one of my former classmates suggested that I check out James Van Praagh’s book, Growing Up in Heaven. We had not talked about the loss of a child, the theme upon which this book is written, so she had no idea that I might need to read it. Her intuition spoke and she listened. 

I couldn’t wait to get the book. I ordered and waited as patiently as I could for it to arrive. 

When the book finally got here, I devoured every word of it. And when I got to page 98, I knew exactly why I needed this book. The author writes, “From a spiritual perspective, abortions are lessons for the mother to learn self-love and self-worth. In the case of abortion, the soul always knows that the fetus will be aborted and does not attach itself to the physical body of the unborn.”

My intellect devoured these words, but they still had to find their place in my heart for the circle of healing to be complete.


At that time, I was in full-blown menopause. I had been catapulted there at age 48 following a time of extreme stress. I had irregular periods, gained some weight and was having pain in my knees and hips. For six months I had been having hot flashes and couldn’t sleep through the night. I was up and down repeatedly to use the bathroom, and had a hard time falling back to sleep.  

After reading Van Praagh’s words, I reflected upon where in my life I lacked self-love and feelings of worthiness. My thoughts turned to my abortion and to Mary, my unborn daughter. The idea that she not only chose me but that she loved me deeply entered my consciousness. As I let the feeling of her love and Van Praagh’s words mingle, a feeling of wholeness came over me. I felt like I was being lovingly and tenderly held. If that presence loved me this deeply, how could I not love myself? Realizing this was a moment of grace.


After that, I never had another period or hot flash. I slept through the night, every night. My weight stabilized. Within a month, my knees and hips, already under chiropractic care, ceased being painful. Menopause ended for me in a matter of months, not the years I was told to expect. It was as if the meeting of heaven — in the form of my baby's soul — and earth — in my human form — healed and transformed me. 

I have no doubt the power of love is transformational. You may have entirely different results when you invite the connection between your mind and your heart, but you will have results, of that I am certain. When you open your heart and invite love in, miracles can't help but occur.


Namaste.

 

 

 

 

That Dreaded "A" Word!

At a recent meeting of spiritually minded professionals, a young business owner asked me what I do for a living. I used to tread slowly, explaining my previous job as a small business owner in the real estate industry. This time, I decided to cut out my back-story and just say it.

“I help women who have had abortions and feel alone or ashamed to feel supported and excited to get out of bed in the morning,” I declared.

I could see this business owner’s eyes pop as she took in my words. “Wow,” she said. “That word really triggers me. I’ve had two abortions and have no regrets. I'm fine with it. But, I'm having a hard time dealing with that word . . .” Her voice trailed off.

Ah, that word! The “A” word. 

This word sparked controversy on a national level this week as well. In its thirty year history, there has never been a TED talk on abortion. If we can't talk about it publicly or privately, how will we ever come to terms with that word?

I am awed by women who are so sure of themselves and their own self-worth that they can make this choice and go on to talk about it. A stunning example to me is New York Times best-selling author Cheryl Strayed. In her poignant and riveting memoir, Wild, Cheryl reveals her personal abortion story. Her disclosure is short and sweet with no further mention of it or of any consequences. Aspects of the book that make it such a compelling read is her deep insight and transparency about this subject and her life. Maybe she has more baggage from her abortion than she lets on, but having seen her speak in person, I believe she authentically shares her biggest struggles in her book and that those struggles are resolved.

Based on my experience, Cheryl Strayed’s togetherness is unusual. I have found that most women were raised with a code of values that fostered judgment and shame, as I was, as they struggled in dealing with their choice. Despite all of their self-talk, daily they muster up the courage to remind themselves they did what they had to do and they try to be at peace with their decision.

It is for these women that I write this blog. Insomnia and deep feelings of loneliness or numbness may go on for months or years. These women cannot find it in themselves to talk to their partners, closest friends, or family. They feel unsafe or fearful and are biding their time until the day they miraculously no longer feel guilty. For some of these women, anti-depressants may be the preferred method of coping.

These are my people. I relate to them because of the "A" word that people do not want to talk about, either face to face or in public venues.  It is that "A" word that connects us. Without it, the clarity gained by mutual understanding and experience, does not exist.

 

“Abortion” is the clearest and most descriptive word there is for our experience. Webster's has no other synonyms for it. My sweet and beautiful grandmother couldn't use the word ten years ago when she shared her experience with me. Isn't it time we got real with each other?

For those who feel secure and safe in their choice, I hold no judgment. I applaud them and hope that together we can make a difference, create a caring community, and offer some hope to those who have not yet made peace  with their decision.

 Abortion defines the experience that we had, but it does not define who we are.  We are one-third of American women under the age of 45. As we become more comfortable with this word, we not only heal ourselves, but we can heal the world.

 

Namaste.

You Are Perfect

Ernest Holmes, New Thought leader and visionary, and the rock star, Pink, have something significant in common. Can you imagine? Both of them have an important message for those of us who might feel less than perfect - especially because of having had an abortion.

If you listen to pop radio or have teenagers, you have probably heard Pink’s hit single, “Pretty, Pretty Please.” It is a poignant song that flawlessly captures the struggles so many of us have in growing up and learning to be the person we were meant to be.

As I listen to her words and watch this video, I realize how seemingly insignificant events can impact who we are and how we react to our world. For the girl in the video, it wasn’t just about her teddy bear, it was a steady pattern in her life of being misjudged, misunderstood, and mistreated by those around her, people who did not see who she really was.((How Childhood Experiences Can Cause Us To Be Fearful). By the end of the story, now a young woman, the girl finds herself home, at peace in the perfection of her own being. She knows that she is perfect and she is ready to model that knowledge for her daughter.

Ernest Holmes teaches about this kind of perfection, a reflecion of the Divinity within each of us. Many of us believe in a power greater than ourselves, whether we call it God, Spirit, Universe, Divine Intelligence, or Creator. In The Science of Mind: A Philosophy, A Faith, A Way of Life, Ernest Holmes writes that “Healing is not creating a perfect idea or a perfect body; it is revealing an idea which is already perfect.”

Wow. Healing reveals to us the perfection that we already are.

I believe we are spiritual beings having a human experience. If that is true and we are made from a source that is God/Spirit/Universe, wouldn’t we have that perfection inside of us?

As a woman struggling with feelings of imperfection – manifesting in the form of guilt and shame – this idea was revelatory. Growing up Catholic, I was taught that I was born a sinner, and there was nothing perfect about me. But once I began to shift my perception and consider a different possibility, that perhaps I was not born with sin, but with a spark of my Creator, I found lasting healing. Like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, who discovered her way home inside herself, I discovered my way home, to the Divinity within my own being.

Today, as I listen to this song by Pink, I feel the transformation of my own soul from one born with original sin to one that is free and at peace knowing that I am whole, complete, and perfect as I am. I don’t know Pink’s spiritual philosophy, but based on the passion and truth of this song, she intuitively knows exactly who she is and who we all are. We are nothing less than perfect.


Namaste.

Hey Soul Sister

 

How many of us know this song, Hey Soul Sister, by Train? Maybe even by heart, like I do?  I listened to it so many times in the past three years that I drove my kids crazy. I could listen to it today just as much as last year or the year before. Why is the song so catchy?

According to a 2009 Harris Poll, 71 percent of Americans believe we have a soul. For Catholic and Protestant Americans, that number is even higher, 85 percent. And yet, our soul is not something we talk about in everyday conversation. 

And along comes this song . . . it is a pop hit, that’s for sure, but I am drawn to it for more reasons than its upbeat tempo and captivating melody. I love it because it connects me to the idea that I am more than this body. 


Maybe there are people out there just like me and we belong together on a whole different level – on a deep level of connection that makes no sense, yet is undeniable all the same. On a soul level. 

Soul connections may be related by blood, but many of them are not. My co-authors in Pebbles in the Pond Wave 2 are soul connections for me. We were pulled together by a connection that did not come from this physical world. We are from the United States, Australia, Brazil, Canada, New Zealand, and Norway, and yet we are connected as if we lived in the same family all our lives.  

Another soul connection for me is a woman I met through a recent mail solicitation. Can you imagine? Most people would have thrown away the mailing, thinking with the left, logical side of their brains: this was junk mail. But something more intuitive was calling me to respond to the mailing. Despite never having met the woman who sent the mailing, I feel as though we have known each other our whole lives. How beautiful is that?!


And then there is my unborn child. One of the most important soul connections of my life is the one I have with my unborn baby girl, Mary. I don’t know how this works, but I do know that I feel her presence around me and I know that my work right now is because of her presence in my life (See blog I Love You More). She is a soul sister who has been willing to go the distance with me, from abortion to lessons of self-worth and self-love, to finding my life’s purpose and work. 

Our society makes so many judgments about the experience of abortion that keep us from knowing the truth of our life. Is it possible for us to step back and ask this question: What if our child knew we were going to do this and agreed to participate in this life lesson with us? What if our baby knew exactly what he or she was getting into? What if this experience has a component of love that surpasses our worldly grasp? 


Lorna Byrne, a mother, writer and angel expert, wrote about it in her book Angels in My Hair . Byrne writes that with abortion the “baby’s soul loves you and never for one moment holds it against you that you did not give birth to it. It already knew what would happen, and still it will pour its love onto you.” 

Many of us believe in the existence of a soul. I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to assert that we are connected to others on this level. And when we do make that soul connection we can have a whole new way of looking at our abortion experience . . .and maybe there will be a shift and a healing that can bless us for the rest of our lives. 

Namaste.