It's early morning, Wednesday, January 6th, everyone is asleep, except me of course, so I have decided to sit down with a glass of hot tea and some red hots. I wanted to talk about having the breath knocked out of me. There are so many times it has happened in my life, but a few came to mind. The first time that I can actually say that I had the breath knocked out of me, I was probably 10 or so years old. There was something brewing in the neighborhood, and for some reason, I became one of the youngest scapegoats. I was called outside for a conversation that turned into a fist fight. I began to brawl with my good friend while all the neighbors watched, and for some reason, it was a planned event. Never knew what it was actually about, but what I do know, is that my mother sent me out to take on this fight, and watched from the window. She felt so horrible, brought it up for years, that she couldn't believe she sent me out to get my butt kicked. But the lesson is this. I do remember parts of that day...my Mom sending me out, feeling betrayed by my friends, and crying home. My Mom's wisdom was I was little, and I was going to need to stand up for myself in life. Flash forward 35 years, and whoa, I can actually stand up for myself, advocate for myself and really, when I smell something is brewing in whatever is happening in life, my intuition NEVER fails me, NEVER, not one single time, my intuition is correct. Lesson learned....you knock me down once, shame on you, know me down twice, shame on me.
We have both the physical and emotional breath to work through in life. When I was 16, I got a call from my friend Jill, that our very best friend from Kindergarten was killed in a car accident. Unfortunately, this call was not a surprise to me. The night before I had a very vivid dream about our friend Cal, and he was super happy, and we talked and we were fishing in my dream, and then he had to leave and go to this bright light with Angels. I didn't understand this dream until the next day when I had heard of his passing. His dream showed me he was going to be OK, and he was headed to Heaven, but I was not prepared for his passing. He was my best buddy since we had been 5 years old. We were always sitting together in class, because we were the shortest kids in class. Every Elementary picture, I am with Cal, sitting by my side. Cal felt bad for me in middle school, I was the last girl to "get" kissed. He wanted to make sure I wasn't left out, so to a slow song, I can't remember, at another friends 14th birthday party, Cal planted one on me. He looked up, and said there....now you're not the only one. I mean come on....what a pal....I had upside down Holly Hobby glass glasses, a bowl cut, and was the shortest chick around....he made my night, and I will always remember my first kiss. Sophomore year, Cal and I had a few classes together. I had hurt my ankle in gymnastics and was on crutches. We had a 3 story building for a school. Cal helped carry my books to every single class during my injury. It was really the last times we ever spent together. He was a true pal, loved by many and his death left a big hole in my heart. I know it affected so many in our community. When I still lived at home, I would run to the cemetery which was close to our home, and sit with his headstone and talk like we use to, he was just such a good kind friend. To this day, I pray for Cal and peace for him and his family, because his death took my breath away for a very long time.
There are significant events that take our breath away, and I will focus on 2. On February 27th, 1998, I was told that I was finally pregnant. After 3 years of trying and multiple trips to the Mt. Pleasant Reproductive Center which is now Coastal Fertility Specialists, I was told that I was pregnant. Having PCOS, it was not an easy task for me to become pregnant. The many cycles of drugs took its toll on my mind, body and soul. But I had amazing nurses and doctors taking care of me. My favorite nurse was Pam and I would become Pam's first success story. After many months and years of trying, and the possibility of 3 babies, we found out that we had one very strong baby with a viable heartbeat only 14 days post HCG and insemination of my eggs. You could say that my breath was taken away, and I literally cried to Pam that she had the wrong patient, she said, no its really you, and you have a due date of November 13th. After a long cautious pregnancy, a breech and determined baby, I had my breath taken away on November 24th when Gracie Catherine came into this world. Her Dad and I could not have been more grateful and thankful to all involved in helping us. Fast forward, and after 3 years of trying to conceive Carter, a miscarriage of twins, 9 inseminations with follicle stimulation by repronex and multiple shots, I was done. We were taking a break and being grateful for what we had. On October 15th, 2001 I found out after a move to Albuquerque, that miraculously, we conceived on our own when we were told there was no way that would ever happen. Our bundle of joy,Carter Matthew arrived on Friday, June 28th, 2002, and once again, my breath was taken away.
Each and every day, our breath is taken away by both the positive and the negative things that occur in our lives. It is up to us, how we rise up, and conquer. I challenge you to see something positive every day, and write down what it is that took your breath away that day.
Cheers to 2016!!
