My Three Miracles

Like everyone, I have a lot of stories in my life, some are great, and some are horrible. I am a child of trauma. I grew up learning how to avoid abuse, I learned how to be invisible, and I felt disposable. Even as a young child, I could see that I came from a long line of generational trauma. I could see the disfunction of my parents; I could see the dysfunction of their parents before them. So before I understood the complexity, even before I had the words or catchphrases to express the damage of trauma, I knew that I wanted to break the chain. The most obvious way was not having children; that was the simplest and easiest solution. So as other girls my age dreamed of the families they would build, I dreamed of how to survive the one I already had, and I had made up my mind not to have children.

When I was nineteen, I was diagnosed with uterine cancer. After surgery and chemo, I was declared in remission. The “good news” was that I would live; the “bad news” was I couldn’t have children. The chances were high that I couldn’t conceive, and even if I did get pregnant, I wouldn’t be able to carry full term, and to be super honest: I was relieved.

After I went into remission, I realized that life was short, and my life was getting swallowed up in the “I should.” So, I dropped out of Architecture School and decided to live the life that would make ME happy. It was my first escape. I auditioned to dance in a show with Ben Vereen, got the job, and moved to Paris. Yay me!

The show finished, and Ben invited me to join his troupe back in the United States. It was still “living the dream,” so I came back to the US and got ready to move to New York. Then things unraveled, well Ben’s life unraveled, and with it my big plan - the shows were canceled, and I panicked. My family gave me the “Aha. Life is fickle” lecture, and the “I should” came back in full force: I agreed to go back to school, and that was that; that dream life was over. I now needed to build a better life from inside my dysfunctional life. I loved Architecture, its history, and its relationship to the human experience. So instead of insisting on the dream, I chose to be happy on my new path.

A year later, I met the person that would become my husband, Pedro. I told him I couldn’t have children, but he loved me anyway. So we dated, got engaged, and had a storybook wedding. Then came my first miracle, I got pregnant.

Suddenly, the thing I never wanted became the most important thing; I was terrified that I would lose this child, struggling with paralyzing anxiety. How could I possibly raise a child? How could God think that was a good idea? I had no idea how even to start, and then one night I had a dream:

In my dream, I'm sitting in a tiny rowboat in the middle of a flat, still lake. The water was so clear that I could see the rocks in detail, every nook and crevasse. It felt like I was floating over them. Dark grey-green shadows of trees surround the lake's edge, and their silhouettes, their branches, are obscured by their fullness in abundance. The sky is clear and blue, with small white clouds fluffy moving across, like sheep grazing across a big crystal blue field.

The only sounds are the creaking of the boat as the water lapped the sides and the twittering of birds in the trees. I am peaceful and content. I am still. The boat drifts slowly towards the shore, and there's a path. I get off my little boat and take the stone path up to the bank and into the woods; it is a well-packed and well-traveled path with little stones marking its edges. There is a small roughhewn wooden gate made of worn branches twisted together. It is smooth and beautiful, and it has small little sprouts pushing their tiny green leaves from the smooth surface; Life will always find a way. Mother Nature always finds her way.

The path leads through the woods, up and up; the gentle slope leads me to the sky. The trail ends on a clearing that falls towards a cliff so high that there is no bottom. I am standing in the clouds.

A few people are in a small cluster, and more are coming from different directions. It's a gathering. I simply know in my heart that it is the gathering of my soul family. We've known each other since the beginning of the beginning, and there is only love and peace. There is casual chatter about mundane things. It starts as a hushed murmur, a vibration that slowly intensifies as more and more join, but it is peaceful and serene.

The gathering organizes itself into a meeting called to order. The conversation is about our roles; lessons learned, relationships, goals, and the tasks we need to accomplish for the next voyage down to the flesh. I don't remember the details, but I remember the joy I felt when our leader decided to come down as my son.

I awoke in my flash, knowing that my baby was a son, and I would carry him full term.

I awoke knowing that he was a gift and a celebration.

I woke in pure joy.

Our first child was a healthy baby boy, Pedro. He came into this world after 22 hours of labor, and he was truly a gift. I still laugh at the concern of being able to carry him full term; not only did I carry full term, but he didn’t want to get out. He was always a knowing soul. Like me, he was a watcher, an observer of life even as a toddler. Together we learned about how to be for each other.

My miracle baby number two is our second son, Diego. There were still medical concerns, so the pregnancy was always high alert. There were more tests than usual, and I was so careful. Diego burst into the scene full of energy and bounce. When he was little, I would call him Tigger because there was never a straight line to anywhere, and it was useless to try and get him to not hop, jump and pounce his way around the world.

My two miracles came with the realization that babies are born with their personalities, and it is our job as parents to help them learn to navigate the world as who they are.

Five years later, we tried for the girl. We read books; I adjusted my diet… everything. My third miracle was Katerina. She was the culmination and blend of everything. She rounded out our family and brought an abundance of love and heart with her.

I see my Three Miracles as they grow and learn. I see their beautiful hearts and intelligent brains, and I know that we have broken the generational trauma. It wasn’t easy, but with a lot of work and a lot of light and gentle truth, my children are glorious young adults ready to take up their roles in the world.

When the children were very young, I went to the jewelry store and bought myself three rings for Mother’s Day; one had a green stone, one had a blue stone, and the other tiny little diamonds. These rings represent my Three Miracles, so I could always have them with me. So when I’m having a personal struggle or start to feel a depression lurking, I look at my hand and remember my Three Miracles. I remember the work to break free of generational trauma. I remember that I did this work, and it was good. I remember that the journey I have taken, no matter how hard at times, has all been worth it. I am not disposable.