My Brush With Death

Today my son, my fifth child, turns 25. He's a good looking young man with a strong healthy body, beautiful eyes, and a loud voice. He's also restless and impatient to find his purpose in life. He struggles with his sense of self. I'm anxious for him to discover the incredible spirit he holds inside.

I remember our relationship when he was a newborn. I was so "in love" with him. Of course I loved all my babies but today, I'm particularly remembering the love affair I had with him. I couldn't get enough of him. I would lie on the bed with him and stare into his eyes. I would feel overwhelmed with connection and devotion. I couldn't imagine loving a human being more than I loved him.

When he was three months old I almost died. I was 27 years old. My life force starting seeping away. My blood pressure dropped and I could barely eat or walk. I would lie in bed with barely enough strength to nurse him. I didn't care to eat or drink but I knew that I must if I was to continue making milk, so I would force myself to take tiny bites of food and little sips of fluids.

My other four children, ages 20 months to 10 years, had to get by without much of a mommy for awhile. They transformed themselves from a wild, rambunctious bunch, always clambering for attention and one thing or another, to quiet and demure, well mannered children, who were satisfied with the basic necessities of daily life. They would peek their little heads into my room and tentatively enter for a brief visit, showing me a new picture they had drawn or giving me a kiss and hug.

My husband at the time, the biological father of 4 of my then 5 children, was scared. Besides his affection for me, I can imagine that the prospect of ending up a single dad with a slew of young children was unappealing. Occasionally I would drag myself out of bed for an appointment with one doctor or another. As medical professionals they would run all sorts of tests but could never ascertain what was wrong with me. They would take my blood pressure, and then always, retake it, only to get the same reading as before. They would shake their heads flummoxed, as they deemed it impossible for it to be so low with someone who was able to walk into their office. Day by day my body weight dropped. Day by day I grew weaker.

I had no pain. I experienced more peace than I had ever known in my life. As my life force continued spiraling down and out, I knew I was dying and I felt fine with the idea...except that my children would be left without a mommy. That made me sad for them. My decline continued for three months.

As I contemplated the actuality of my dying I decided I didn't want that for my kids. So, with the clear intention of living, my life force reversed directions and started spiraling upwards and I was able to contain it. Day by day my strength increased. Day by day my children got louder and demanded more. Life as I once knew it returned.

Jaya