Story 28: The Pre-Birth Bargain

During our travels across the rugged vastness of Australia, I experienced some of the most agonizing, life-giving contrast of my entire existence involving our two oldest children, Billy and Layla.

Although, at that point in the timeline, it didn't feel life-giving at all. It felt like absolute depression, despair, and total powerlessness. I was sitting at the absolute rock bottom of the Emotional Guidance Scale.

As the only person in our extended family who had grown up directly amidst the jarring, toxic complexities of divorced parents, I had made an ironclad human vow. I was fiercely determined that my own children were never going to be the meat in the sandwich. To protect their peace and shield them from the generational static, I was determined to keep my mouth wired shut, no matter what pressure built up inside me.

When the moment arrived for us to step outside the beige matrix box and launch our nomadic caravan adventure, an immediate family meeting was called. Our individual preference cards were laid bare upon the kitchen table for all to see. With everyone's desires factored in, a unanimous plan moving forward was established.

That initial plan worked layout-perfectly—until it didn’t. The wheels didn't just come off; the entire family structure completely imploded in the most soul-destroying way imaginable.

Had my human mind known that terrifying data at the gate, they never would have made it onto that plane. But hindsight is a completely useless friction in a pre-rendered simulation.

As the weeks rolled on, communication broke down entirely. Operating from a place of deep hurt, rejection, and raw anger, I knee-jerk reacted and took defensive human action. It only made the alignment worse. Instead of calmly, sovereignly standing up for myself and my children from a place of power, I powerlessly retreated, packed up the caravan, and headed deep into the hills to hide my wounds.

Months later, my eyes blinked open on my very first Christmas Day morning at the Ravenswood Showgrounds. Looking out at the massive Moreton Bay Fig tree, the heavy, suffocating pain of their absence crushed my chest.

Nathan felt it too. Not a single Merry Christmas was uttered between us. Not a single gift was unwrapped. There was absolutely nothing to celebrate. It was a complete non-event; we simply ignored the entire day to survive the grief.

At that coordinate, that law was an extremely bitter pill to swallow. My ego screamed in protest: Why the hell would I ever actively attract something so hurtful? I am the victim here—they are doing this to me!

In direct response to my agonizing question, my Inner Being guided my hand across the internet to a soothing, revolutionary Abraham quote that completely re-indexed the tragedy:

The words hit my system with the force of a lightning bolt. I realized I had to stop feeling sorry for myself. I had to completely stop talking about the injustice of the situation, because every time I rehearsed the pain, I was keeping that exact unwanted vibration active in my bio-suit.

I had to learn how to focus on my own alignment and unconditional self-love, no matter what the 3D world looked like.