We are divinely protected, every one of us.

We get countless examples of such every day, but depending on our levels of internal vibration, we do not recognize and therefore do not understand the magnitude of our experiences. There is sometimes an inharmony with the connection to source, that leaves us in sticky situations, because we do not see what we are being protected from, and so walk into similar or the same situations even after being saved.

I can safely say that I am a lot further on my path now, that I was just about four years ago. I have learned to listen to my intuition and so the voice of guidance in my life got louder and louder, and the messages got clearer. I have also learned to tune in with my body and to obey its demands when I know that it is necessary.

For example. If I am feeling lazy and I know that I have got to work out, I will not listen to my body’s want of sleep. I will get up and work out. But if I am feeling ill or extremely tired, I will know to rest or up my water intake, to relax, to meditate and do other things that may help raise my vibration. If after all that, I sill feel ill, then I know that it’s time to seek professional help.  

I just want to share a little experience that I had the other day. It is for sure one of many that I have written about, just to remember such miraculous events. I am now turning them into blogs. That particular experience really drove home the fact that both my baby and I are divinely protected, and I have absolutely nothing to worry about.

I have been battling asthma for some years now (currently working on speaking it out of my reality), and about a year ago, switched from Ventolin inhalers to Salbutamol solutions in my portable nebulizer.

I am almost 9 months post-partum writing this, and honestly, I cannot really say that I have battled deep post-Partum depression. Maybe I have and did not recognize it as grave or serious. I have for sure had moments of fear, staring at the tiny person in my arms that I was now responsible for. I have cried my eyes out for reasons I could not put my finger on. I have had moments of being upset at my partner for not pulling his weight. I have felt hopeless in certain situations where I was alone with the baby and there was so much to be done, but even in those moments a voice said “If you were not here, it would be done anyway, so go lay down with your baby, give him the attention and love that he is seeking. The work can be done later.” I obeyed. Having a baby has changed my life and added more weight to how I interpret things, because I have a whole other body and soul to look after.  My pregnancy and delivery of my son has opened up the vast reservoirs of intuition and innate knowledge that I now believe only a mother can possess.

The day that I am speaking of, is one where I felt breathless for most of the morning. Despite that, I had performed my motherly duties of bathing, feeding, cuddling, and entertaining my baby for that morning, and was trying to get my active and now mobile 8-month-old to settle down for nap time. He had just discovered that creeping is easier, after ceaselessly trying to walk, and so I had to watch him whenever he was on a bed or any high enough surface, as he would attempt creep right off, trying to get to me, or whatever it was that had his interest. I did not have a crib nor a cot, because we were constantly traveling for me to work in music, and having one or the other proved very troublesome to move with.

I had rounded up some of his toys and placed him on the bed, and I was on the floor, using my nebulizer machine that was plugged into the wall.  The cord for the nebulizer was very short and so if it was not plugged into my portable charger, I was forced to be close to whatever wall socket I was using. I could not find my portable charger that morning, and I still cannot remember why. I remember hearing his shriek of excitement and automatically put my hand up to the edge of the bed knowing that he was either bolting for me or was about to. Placing my hand there would usually distract him and cause him to stop to investigate, and if it did not, it would prevent him from falling right off. 

So, there I was, on the floor of the bedroom, sitting crossed legged, trying to breathe and hold my son back at the same time. It was a house in Barbados, where I was for a few weeks, filming music videos. There were three other people in the house with me at that time, each in their own rooms I believe. After about three to four minutes of regulating my breathing, I decided that it was enough and switched off the machine with my free hand. I also responded to a text message from a friend with my now free hand, as my phone was hooked up to the same USB port, and was also on the floor. The time was 11:55 am.  

I then tested my breathing as I usually did and found my nose stuffy. My bottle of Vick’s Vapour rub was in my carry-on suitcase in the closet. The suitcase was opened on a shelf, and I could see the bottle clearly. I knew in order to have a peaceful nap, I would need to breathe properly and so, I pushed my baby back toward the middle of the bed, and I stood up from the floor. I then and took a step towards the closet which was barely five steps away as the room was not at all big. I recall taking a pause because I felt seriously dizzy, and the next thing I remember was waking up on the floor. 

At first it felt like I was coming out of sleep. I feel like I opened and closed my eyes several times. Then the pain hit. Searing across my lower back, almost half way down my right butt cheek. I think I heard myself moan in pain as well. When my eyes finally remained open and was able to focus, I noticed how far away the ceiling looked and then realized that I was on the floor. “Why am I on the floor?” I thought and sat up. Another burst of pain at the sight of whatever injury I had suffered, my head felt heavy and my eyes burned from the inside. Then one word flashed into my mind when I became fully conscious after about a minute of just sitting there, feeling like I had just woken up from my C-section all over again.

“VRY!” (My son’s nickname)

I don’t think I can imagine how I looked but I do know that I shot up with lightning speed after realizing that my baby was on the bed. I stood up, ignoring the immense pain and found him lying peacefully, partially on top of one of the pillows that I had used to create a barricade, one arm slung over and the other with a thumb in his mouth, looking at me. My eight-month-old was not crying, nor trying to crawl off the bed. He was not playing with his toys, or putting them in his mouth. He was just  there looking at me.

“My baby is safe! He is ok!” was what I said with my inside voice and sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked up at me and smiled, but I can’t help but think that his expression before that was one of sadness, and that he was sucking on his thumb for comfort. He doesn’t usually do that. My chest tightened from the fright of realizing what had just happened and my thoughts went once again to the Vicks Vapour Rub.

I looked across to the closet where it was still in the carry-on suitcase. I never made it to the closet. The rug on the floor was also crumpled, showing the exact impression where I landed, pretty hard, I deduced from the pain I was still feeling.

I tried to wrap my head around what had taken place but just felt tired, so I climbed into the bed and pulled my son close. It was then I checked the time on my other phone I had left on the bedside table. It was now 12:28.

A barrage of questions ran through my mind. “How long was I out for?”

Clearly more than twenty minutes. “What exactly happened? Did I faint? Why did I faint?”

I felt breathless again just thinking about it and so made a conscious effort to calm down, and began to breast-feed my son, who was now back to his feisty self, seeing that mama was back in operation. I looked at him drink peacefully, pulling on my long braids and kicking at the air, and began to cry. It hit me that nothing short of a miracle kept my son on that bed. Nothing more than his guardian angels being active and present. He saw me fall; I know that for sure. I wondered what went through his mind when he did. Did he think it was funny? Did he cry?  I learned later that day after inquiring that no one had heard. No one knew I was on the floor while the baby was unattended to on the bed. I could have died and no one would have known for quite some time. It just so happened that I did not hit my head on anything while crashing to the floor. A feeling of calm came over me as I thought “Could have – is not the point here. You are alive and your baby is ok. He made no effort to jump off that bed like he usually does. He was calm and just waiting for you to wake up. You both are surely divinely protected. You are never alone.” I closed my eyes and sent words of thanks and gratitude to the Infinite Spirit, to God, to the Universe, to my ancestors and my spirit guides, and to my son’s. I was happy for the first-hand example that both my son and I were, and still are under grace. If it was the sign I needed, I took it to the depths of my still beating heart. Several days later, while on my home island of Dominica, to take the baby to be with my mom for a few weeks, the proof I needed appeared. Two large, blueish-black marks on my right butt cheek, close to my tail bone, and a hardening of the area.

My friends and co-workers back in Barbados had thought maybe I imagined fainting and it was a result of anxiety, especially since no one heard or saw anything. They were convinced that I was going through post-partum depression and did not even know it. I am sure at first, they didn’t believe me. Nothing added up. It was just my groggy account, but now with those marks there was no denying that something happened. But that’s how the Infinite Spirit works. Nothing needs to add up or make sense to the conscious mind. Maybe the only one who needs to believe my account of that day was me, and I am ok with that. Looking at those marks in the mirror, again I offered thanks and praises for the divine intervention that took place that day. They were proof that I was not going crazy and that a miracle did indeed occur in my life on that faithful day.

Whenever I think about it, especially if there are slight feelings of dizziness or nausea, I now instantly ground myself. Be it by sitting or lying down. I just get as close to the ground as possible for slight fear of falling again. However, I know better. I am divinely protected.

“Today is the day of my amazing good fortune. Miracle shall follow miracle and wonders shall never cease.” Florence Scovel Shinn.

Sincerely: A Grateful Island Girl.