Living on the flip side.

I attended a 'Meduimship Seminar' last weekend.  

You know, just like John Edward's 'Crossing Over' shows.  Yep, a dude in a suit talking to dead people.

This is a difficult post to write.  I'm confronted by all my beliefs, and the Unbelieving  that happened when grief took over my life.  I did not think that Jack went on to exist as a spiritual energy in some other world, I did not believe in an Afterlife.  

I thought dead was dead, done and gone.  I was ok with that, with there being no afterlife, no continuation.  I just wasn't ok with the fact that my son had died.   

Maybe it's that I hated the thought of him having a consciousness elsewhere, instead of being here with me, living this life.  I didn't want a baby that was 'with me in spirit'- I wanted his presence known through shitty nappies and cracked nipples not through ethereal questionable 'signs'. 

 I know many people will question the truth of what I experienced.   I know of parents that have sought out Mediums or Psychics in their attempts to communicate with their dead babies, to be reassured that their babies are ok.  I could not relate.  I never thought I would seek out a medium.  I was faintly horrified at the idea.  I've only seen one psychic before, one that a friend dragged me along to see with her, and I didn't think she came up with anything real.

I didn't intentionally start out looking for a medium- I was just looking for a meditation class.  Following a string of web links I ended up on Anthony Grzelka's web page.  I'd never heard of him, but turns out he's a well known Australian Medium.  As I read about him I learnt how renowned he is, that he is invited by the police to help in cases and I found myself interested.  He seemed 'down to earth' and unpretentious- not sprouting a whole lot of glitter laden airy-fairy Unicorn flap.  He seemed to have a focus and understanding of grief.  Then I saw that he was doing a 'mediumship seminar' that very weekend in my city.  

It's been a long time since I've done anything spontaneous.  But before my critical-cynical-sceptical thinking kicked in, I realised that I wanted to go.  Just to see, you know?   The Bloke didn't want to go but was keen for me to attend, and even offered to pay for a friend of mine to go with me.  So tickets were bought, and I spent the next few days in a state of strange excitement.

On Anthony's webpage he notes that before a reading you can do some things in order to assist the connection with loved ones.  Things like bringing a photo of them (but not for him to see), creating energy by talking about them, and asking them to come and talk to him.  

So for the first time, I found myself trying to talk to Jack.  It's not been something I was comfortable with before, or it hurt too much.  But I spent the day before the seminar in Jack's room.  I read through all the labour notes, autopsy report, and the calendar I kept when I was pregnant.  I looked through his photo albums, held his hand prints.  I curled up on the little bed surrounded by all his teddies, and held his ashes and cried.  I sat in the rocking chair, cuddling his one special bear that he was given in hospital, and spoke out loud to him.  I told him about Anthony, and that if Jack wanted to, he could speak to him.  I even watched some you-tube clips of Anthony and found myself crying and saying to Jack, 'See, that man there, he's nice, don't be afraid to go see him, you're allowed to if you want to.'

I also spent some time thinking about my Grandmother, who died while I was in-utero.  

There have been some remarkable co-incidences involving her in my life.  One of them is that I have ended up living just around the corner from the house she was born in, which is now the local historical society.  I visited there often while I was pregnant and took my father there for his first time, just three days before Jack was born.  I took Grandma's photo to the seminar as well, and silently asked her to show up.  I had this little chant going in my head 'Grandma, Jack, Grandma, Jack, Grandma, Jack.' 
I actually found all of that process very comforting. 

The day of the seminar I was a bundle of nerves and turned up early to be amongst the first in line.  

There were 150 hopeful people there.  As Anthony said at the beginning.  "The reason I'm pacing now, is that I'm trying to get used to you all.  There's 150 people staring at me intently, all thinking 'C'mon Mum!'.  That's a lotta expectation on a guy!"

Anthony noted that if you hear him saying things to someone else, but it's ringing all your bells, to put your hand up, as sometimes he's just in the wrong part of the room.  

After about an hour I heard a string of things that the people he was talking to weren't 'getting', but I certainly was.  

Three things- military medals that some-one was trying to find, a particular and uncommon name (which is my DH's grandfather's name who said medals belong to, and that we have been trying to sort out recently) and had someone lost a small child or baby?  Upon my friends insistance I stuck my hand up and Anthony made his way over and asked me about the medals.  I told him that we were recently given military medals for that name, but that someone elses medals were amongst them and we can't find who they belong to.  He said, ok, this is a spirit saying 'me too', but it's not it.   He went back to the other people and did some more connections for them.  

When he finished he made his way over to me.

Everything happened very quickly and intensely at this point.    

I had been determined to answer questions straight-faced, to give nothing away.  

That plan fell apart pretty quickly as things were validated in  quick succession and I experienced intense emotions that had to be released in a scrumpled up face of tears.  It wasn't recorded unfortunately, so I'm relying on my friend's scribbled notes and my shocked memory.  
AG is obviously, the Medium.  When I say 'confers', I mean he's taking some time to listen to a spirit. 

AG: "Who died of the stroke, something to do with the brain?" 

Me: "Aneurism, my grandmother.." 

AG: "Yes.  Is that your father's side?"

Me: "Yes"

AG: confers.."You're having problems with your father"

I can't speak.

AG: confers more with Grandma:  "..a relationship breakdown"

Me: (I squeak this out) "Estranged"

AG: "she says you've done all you can, you've kept trying, there's only so much you can do.   At some point you have to move on with your  life".

 I break down in tears at this point (I told you the straight face didn't last long).  I won't go into the background, but I haven't been on speaking terms with my father for 5 months now, after many years of attempts to heal some major crap and it has caused me much grief.   This is the validation I needed to know that AG is actually talking to my Grandma.
 AG gives me a moment, then it rolls on.

AG: "Who is David and Danny?"

Me: "David is my partner and Danny is my Aunty"  
My Aunty passed a few years ago.  I later remember that David is also my Great-Uncle, and my Aunty and I used to take turns wearing his military medals on Anzac Day.  So that's my grandma, her brother, and her daughter.  Turns out, as you'll see later, that 'David' was a big name for the day.

AG: "Who is J?  I'm seeing a big J"
  He keeps drawing J in the air.  I don't know what he's talking about for a moment.  Time stops.  

  He keeps saying and drawing J, until my shock clears and time speeds up again.

Me:  "My son....Jackson..."

AG:  "Feels more like Jack."

Me:  "It's Jackson on his birth cert, but we call him Jack now."

AG nods:  "and David is Jack's father."

Me: "yes".

AG:  "Jack's passed?  Your grandmother is showing him, she's got him with her."

AG:  noting that my tears have started again he asks.."Do you want me to keep going with what I'm hearing?"
Me:  Nods determinedly.

AG:  "He must have passed very young, as he can't speak to me properly, which is what happens when babies die before they learn verbal language.  He's showing me things rather than talking."

Me: "He died in-utero."

AG: "Hmm, but it must have been very late in pregnancy?  He's very substantial, it's more like he was born, almost born."

Me "He died on his due date, when I was in early labour."  (cue Audience gasping)

AG paces and confers some more with J, saying to him "what are you trying to show me?"
 AG:  "Where was he born?"

Me:  "Hospital."

AG pacing and looking confused "But, was there, did they, was there some kind of delay?  He's waiting and waiting.."
Me (freaking losing it at this point, my face has fallen into my lap) "He died at home,  I didn't know.. then we went to hospital where I birthed him."

There is a 24 hour period where we can't pinpoint when Jack died- we heard his heartbeat one day, then  24 hours later when I was in early labour and my midwife visited me at home to see how I was, there was no heartbeat.  He may have been in distress overnight, waiting for help for many hours without me knowing.  Or, he may have been slowly deprived of oxygen for a few days, but his distress didn't show up on the doppler for that last pre-natal check.   I've since read that babies can adjust to increments of oxygen deprivation so it won't show up, but if it keeps happening they die.  The word 'delay' goes to the heart of my guilt.

AG:  "I feel him surrounded by fluid.  Did something....he couldn't breathe."

AG is holding his hands around his throat, like he's being choked.

My friend says "cord wrap", as I say "symptoms of acute asphyxiation".

Jack was born with a 4 x nuchal compressed cord wrap.  

His father says that when Jack came out, his neck looked like one of the African women who wear many gold hoops around their neck.  The cord was so tight and compressed his neck looked elongated and the midwife couldn't get her finger under the cord to slip it over his head- she had to roll him down the bed to unravel the cord. 

Autopsy showed 'intrathoracic petechiae in keeping with an acute asphyxiation mode of death'.

AG:  "Is David, or someone, disconnected? Not communicating with him or..?"
I shake my head as David is a good communicator, and I don't have time to connect that he could be referring to me and my refusal to connect with anything spiritual in the last 2 years.

 Now, things get strange.  The woman sitting right next to me, whom I have never met until I sat next to her today, puts her hand up and says "I really have to say something now".  I'll refer to her as 'N'.

N:  "My husband's name is also David, and we also had a still-born baby".

Just before my reading began I saw that the notebook N had in her lap had the logo of the school I live opposite from.

Me to N:  "Do you work at X college" N: "Yes."
Me to AG:  "..and I live opposite where she works."   

AG:  "Wow, ok, this is just...miraculous."

AG to N: "Well, this little girl that's here must be yours.  Your baby was a girl?"
N:  "Yes"

Both N and I are seriously crying now.  I won't repeat the validating connections that came through for her .  It gets quite confusing because AG had to figure out what messages are for whom, and some are for both of us.
After relating some details to N about their funeral he turns to me and says..

AG:  "But you.. (referring to funeral arrangements) .there was some indecision.  You couldn't..didn't know..some issue..but you made the right decisions."

Me:  "We waited quite awhile for the funeral.  I couldn't do it.  I wanted to wait.   We had a friend make the coffin".

AG:  "He wants you to know that you  made the right decision.  He was surprised by how many people were there for a baby.  He felt a massive outpouring of love."

Me:  "We were surpised by how many people were there!  People we weren't expecting and hadn't seen in years had come from all over!"

The comments after the funeral were full of  'the love for him really shone through', 'the most loving ceremony I've ever been to' etc.   At one point we did a 'web of love' meditation.  With Jack's coffin in the middle, his father and I touching it, and then everyone spanning out from us reaching out to touch the person next to them, so that everyone was connected through to Jack.  We focussed on sending love through to Jack to send him on his way.  I have a photo of this moment that I love looking at, and I know now that Jack felt all that love.

Some less intense, but intensely cute messages also came through.
AG:  "Did you get a tattoo for Jack?"
Me:  "We've designed one, but haven't known if it's the right thing to do."
AG:  "He's giving me a thumbs up, he thinks it's cool."

AG:  "He's showing me his hands, holding his hands up alot, his palms, seems to be significant."
Me:  "I have his handprints all over the place, and a big photo of his hand holding my thumb on the mantlepiece, with a candle I light, it's my favourite photo.  It's the last thing of him I held, his hand."

AG:  "He's showing me listening to music in the car.  My music in the car."

Me:  "Um..?  I often break down in tears when in the car listening to music by myself?  I've also started singing out loud and head-banging to music in the car.  I'm that weird chick you see at the lights shouting lyrics and waving their arms about..the only time I feel his 'presence' sometimes, is when I'm in the car..like I expect him to be in the backseat."

AG:  "He's with you then and likes the music."
  Of course I'm weirded out when I get in the car the next day, and the song playing is The Police "Every Breathe you take, I'll be watching you.."   I also think it's funny that my son likes bad 80's power rock ballads, which is what I generally find myself rocking out to in the car, where no-one can hear me..

Anthony finished the reading by telling me that Jack is showing him the many people who are with him.  He also tells N that Jack had brought her daughter through, that it was no mistake we were sitting together.  I think "well of course; where else would another woman whose husband's name is the same as mine- a name that came up in the reading, and has a stillborn baby, and lives around the corner from me sit?"
He thanks us and offers sincere empathy for our loss, saying "I'm so sorry, I know it's the worst thing that can happen to a parent".  His wife brings us flowers.
He moves on to the next reading, and we sit, shocked, with both of us taking turns crying again and handing each other tissues.  After the seminar we swap numbers and I'm looking forward to catching up with N later in the week.

It's been a lot to process.  I do not share this experience to convince anyone else of an Afterlife.  I questioned if I should share this so publicly- but hey, I was in a room with 150 strangers staring at me as I cried, and all gasping at the accuracy of what Anthony said for me, so why not share it with other parents who may also be struggling with the same issues.   It feels very precious and personal to me.  I don't need anyone to question me, to give me their scepticism- I've lived as a disbelieving sceptic and I know the arguments.  I understand that unless you were in that room experiencing what I and others heard and felt, that you may question the validity.  That's ok.  I just know what I know, after a long struggle.

I have cried a small river in the last few days.  I have also felt energised and uplifted, freed from a certain bleakness.  Then I crash back down to the tears.  I have found myself cuddling Jack's teddy bear, carrying it around on my hip, sleeping with it.  I feel closer to Jack, and also so sorry that I shut him out for so long.  I feel the need to parent him.  To speak softly, to caress and soothe.  During one very emotional hour of despair and tears I 'imagined' my grandmother and aunty watching me.  I 'imagined' them saying 'poor girl. Jack, mummy needs a cuddle'.  I felt an intense heat flow through my back and fill me with warmth.

I will always grieve the loss of my son, but I will also know he's forever close to me.
Never truly lost, he is surrounded by love. 

Web of Love Meditation for Jack's farewell.

After being on the wait list for over a month, Carly Marie drew this butterfly for Jack the day after the seminar.