A woman in her late 30’s trying to get some grocery shopping done at the local Harris Teeter. She crouches down to reach something on the bottom shelf and an outline of energy remains standing where she just did. The outline of energy solidifies into a 70 year old woman with white hair pinned to the top of her head. She turns looks me straight in the eyes and starts speaking in rapid Spanish. I don’t understand much more than the basics, but I can feel what she wants me to do. She wants me to tell her daughter that everything will be ok, that things will get better soon, to tell her that she is loved. I stand there, pretending not to see her, pretending not to hear her. I contemplate what would happen if I approached this woman and what I would say to her. I almost talk myself into taking that chance, taking a risk at being called a devil worshiper in the middle of the grocery store, the elderly woman just looks so distraught. But just as it always does, something holds me back, and I turn my shopping cart out the aisle and go looking for the goldfish in aisle 5.

 

The large man that has no energy outline that stands at my front door. ‘The Watcher’ should be his name, like writing a fiction thriller that would go straight to the top of the bestseller charts. He watches over us with no emotion, he puts off no trace of electromagnetic fields, and he also never takes the energy emitting from the home. I don’t quite know where he comes from or why he is here, but he seems to guard us. Like a nature spirit forged from the trees and earth surrounding out home. He looks like he could resemble a rock covered in moss at the entrance to a path. He has a presence of a stone gargoyle watching over an enormous cathedral. Out of the corner of your eye, you could swear you saw something move, but when you look back, it is just an entrance way. The protector of this home has grown to befriend this entity, the cat’s mighty yowls proclaim the entrance secure to his ‘Watcher’ friend. All is well, all is well.

 

A. Elise Smith

 

It happened, the thing that all parents dread. At almost 12 weeks along, I miscarried what was going to be my second child. I know how this sounds to you all, it sounds horrible and depressing, but I will tell you right now that I will not be incapacitated by this loss. Don’t get me wrong, I am heartbroken, but I felt the emotions and I made my peace with them.

 

I don’t deny that it was hard to go through, and I will support anyone who has to go through this with compassion and understanding. Everyone is allowed to feel the emotions in whatever way they feel is cathartic to them, but I chose to see beyond the sadness and see the light of possibilities shining through. This event did not mean it was the end for our family. If anything, it brought the subject out into the open, causing us to seriously consider expanding our family further.

 

As I mentioned in my previous post, I had felt some inklings that this pregnancy had some hiccups. I could not feel my child’s soul, I could not hear her spirit speaking to me, and my grandpa’s spirit was being evasive when questioned. My grandfather just kept telling me, “Don’t worry, you will be fine.” That is generally a very normal thing to tell someone when giving support. Now, if anyone knows the subtle art of evading a question, you would know right away that the answer purposefully did not mention the baby. The more specific my questions became, the more general the response was. I knew that did not bode well.

 

Finally, two days before I went to the ER, I put my foot down and told my Grandfather that I needed real answers. He then said that I would find out about the miscarriage in two days, I would get through it fine, and I would be pregnant again in 6 months. Sure enough, two days later I was in the ER getting the test results back that my body was not producing the proper levels of hormone to sustain the pregnancy. The diagnosis was an “inevitable miscarriage”. Three days after that my body followed suit.

 

As I painfully went through the natural process that so many mothers know so well, my baby’s spirit came back to me. She said, “Don’t worry Momma, that isn’t me, I’m still here. You didn’t lose me, that one just didn’t work.” She stayed with me through the following 24 hours, repeating that she wasn’t going anywhere and everything would be ok. She was going to be my baby no matter what.

 

My baby had tried her darnedest to make that physical vessel (the fetus) work, but when things aren’t meant to be, there is no stopping the natural process from taking its course. The only thing I wish for is for my baby and I to be healthy throughout and after the pregnancy. So if things did not work out this time around, it was for a good reason. The powers at be know what they are doing and I have faith in that.

 

The most precious thing that came out of this experience was seeing first hand the amount of unwavering support I have around me. This just opened a beautiful possibility into a wonderful reality, which we plan to embrace and build upon. Our baby is out there, waiting to be born, and I will bide my time until I finally hold her in my arms.

 

Onward to our next adventure.

 

A. Elise Smith