WRITING: THE BREECH EPISTLE

The Breech Epistle

This morning JFK came to me in a dream… close up and personal… face to face…

His face said to me, “Don’t forget ‘him’”.

Then Jane, my cat, made a noise and simultaneously, the face of JFK,Jr. was looking at me, smiling. ‘Him’ was JFK, Jr. This is his time and his time is Now. Present tense. Which told me, without a doubt, unequivocally, that John John was alive, breathing and about to make a public appearance. Really. What more proof do you want? Than JFK?

This afternoon, after canceling my subbing job this morning, I watched Grey’s Anatomy from yesterday, on Hulu. Going through another storm with my 38-year-old son, a scene sparked a deep emotional memory.

When I was about 8 months pregnant with him, the doctor told me he was breech, feet first and I would need a C-section to deliver him. Feet first?! Like he was putting the brakes on not wanting to come out. An Omen Extraordinaire! Arriving home from that exam, I Watched videos of what that entailed; ‘freaked-out’ did not come close to my horror! Back in our house, I remember sitting on the two steps leading up from the living room to the narrow, not three feet wide, shot-gun hallway… The hall, about as wide as I felt.

A sound emanated out of me… NO!!! I screamed many times, crying.

“I WILL NOT GO THROUGH THAT!”

Later that week, we attended a large Christian fellowship in Westchester; a huge regional gathering. I waddled up to Reverend Charlie and asked him to minister to me. He knew my first name but that was about all he knew about me. There were no words uttered, not what I needed his prayers for. Charlie, who was younger than I, took my hands into his hands, drew me close and began. He thanked God and said, “Father, turn this child around!” Present a normal, natural child birth. I was dumbfounded. The power of prayer is one thing. Charlie was turned on, tapped in and tuned in. 100%.

The next few weeks my watermelon belly felt extreme discomfort and pressure. My friend Pat said, “Jackie, God is turning the baby around. He’s doing it slow and gentle. You want him to flip it over fast? I don’t think so.”

The subsequent ultrasound, pre-delivery, showed the baby in perfect position, head down, feet up, for a normal, natural child birth.

This memory brought tears of joy today, 38 years later. It melted the sadness and hurtful relationship I have endured for the last, oh, 25 years with my only child, my son… years reflecting his feet first position in my womb, brake-stopping him from coming out into the world; not breathing when he did.

All the mean, painful, erroneous verbal attacks on me, imbedded in a child’s innocence from birth through 13, he still carries, buried deep, under hardened lava. Love for my son instantly became Sentient for me. I re-membered that there was nothing I wouldn’t do for this troubled child, who buried his head under his pillow to deafen the noise of his parents fighting. I re-membered the lullabies I sang to him every night until he was 9, that turned prayer into music. I re-membered his laughter as a little boy, before he lost his innocence to the dysfunctional energy surrounding and permeating the house. “Father, turn this child around”.

That is still my prayer. Turn my child around to the truth, to know he is loved. Turn my child around enabling him to love his mother, inside out and outside in … Turn my child around to know who I have become. Turn my child around to know my wisdom. Turn my child around to accept and revere me, reflecting the best of his emergence and who he has become as a grown man and is becoming still, as a father of his own children.

“Father, turn this child around” to the wonders that life has waiting in store for him; to answer the call of his soul’s purpose… to be in the stillness and wonder of the simple joys we share on Earth, to the Oneness, to the Gratitude. “Father, turn this child around.”

God turned you around in me then. Your birth was meant to Be, on Purpose… Spirit loves you. Source Energy will turn your heart around, once more. I carried your heart, once. I carry your heart in my heart, always, all ways.

Turn my child around.