Last Fall, after several deep discussions with Gretchen, I said a manifestation, or a “prayer” to The Universe. Alone in my car, I said these words out loud: “I open myself up to the greater good, in hopes of a life beyond my wildest dreams.” It’s simple. It means, “Put me where I am supposed to be so that my existence in this world is useful.” And it also implies that in living out my Authentic Path, and doing the work that God intended me to do on this earth, I will be deeply satisfied, joy-filled, and in awe of this life. And then I added, “If all of this is real, and if I’m on the right track, show me a dinosaur.” YES. A dinosaur. Gretchen had said, “Choose something obscure and something you’re unlikely to see on a t-shirt or a throw pillow.”
Well, The Universe accepted my challenge. Within a week, I had 2 dinosaur sightings. The first came in the form of a meme on social media, and the other was straight out of Mike’s mouth when he was teasing me one night before going to bed. This was when I was still keeping my manifestation a secret. He literally made a joke about science, DINOSAURS, and my religious upbringing. I laughed, but I was silently so wide-eyed and full of wonderment that I don’t even know how I got any sleep. Then there was a lull. And then one day, I was working at Cala’s and I got a splinter in my hand. I couldn’t get it out with anything I found in the kitchen (yep), so when Donna, a mom of 4 walked in for lunch, I knew she would have something in her Mary Poppins bag for me. Right away she started pulling everything out and naming each item before placing it on the table. And when it seemed like there was no hope, the 6th item she pulled out were her keys. On her key ring was a puppet dinosaur. She picked it up, put her finger in the bottom so that its googly eyes were staring right at mine and said, “Well, this won’t help you at all.” …Ehem.
I had to work the night before my mammogram. Mike was working too so my mother-in-law was babysitting Sam. When I got home, the only toy that was out of place was a single dinosaur sitting in the center of the kitchen table. I’m sure Jinny had left it there for Sam to see when he woke up in the morning. But really, it was for me. I knew that no matter what the outcome of the following day’s appointment, that I would be ok. That regardless of whether or not the results were what I wanted, I was exactly where I was supposed to be: Connected to the Universe. My dinosaur is God. And having faith in God by seeing signs and what I refer to as, “magic,” gives me peace.
The Friday before my Authenticity Talk at Treetop, I was (again) working at Cala’s. I had had a shit day and it seemed as though pieces of my world were falling apart. I waited on Gayle and she immediately introduced me to her pregnant daughter-in-law. They had gone shopping and found bedding for the crib. I can’t remember if I was the one who asked to see it, or if they showed me themselves, but the blankets were big prints of blue, yellow and green dinosaurs. The following Saturday, I pulled up to teach yoga at the YMCA and I parked behind a car with a bumper sticker that read, “This vehicle is fueled by recycled dinosaurs.”
There have been several others. You get it.
Back in December, I told my friend, Kelly about my dinosaurs. She is a skeptic and a corporate professional who deals with black, white and facts. But she was cautiously eager to hear more. And then unbeknownst to me, she did it herself. In January, she made the decision to quit her job and stay home with her kids. She wrote in a text message, “It’s crazy. I thought, if Jaime can see dinosaurs, I must be able to get some kind of sign. And I said, ‘God, I know I don’t pray often and I’m sure there are millions of prayers you’re listening to right now and they are probably all more worthy than mine, but if you happen to hear me, can you please give me a sign that I’m doing the right thing? Can you show me ice cream?’ Because shit, who eats ice cream in New York on a cold winter day? I walked out of a meeting and a girl had an ice cream spoon in her mouth and I looked at her desk and there were two cups of ice cream!”
Mike and I are thinking about having another baby. There are a million worries, joys, concerns, questions, and thoughts spinning around our heads and hearts. But mostly, the circulation is hovering over my physical body. I don’t want to get cancer again. Maybe your next line of thought is, “What do your doctor’s say?” To which my reply is, “There are no genetic findings that would prove that I will get cancer if I become pregnant.” That means, no one knows. Some doctor’s say it was “a fluke,” other doctors say, “your immune system was compromised (because it was busy protecting Sam) and couldn’t fight the virus that caused your cancer.” Mike and I both believe the latter holds a stronger argument. That being said, we don’t want to have a baby with Fear as our Ringleader. Right now, we want love, a true sense of peace, and some guidance.
Back in April, on a drive with Mike and Sam, I randomly said, “Mike, if we have a little girl, can we name her Bee?” And he said, “Yes.” And other than the time I said, “Let’s name our boy, Sam,” we have never agreed on a name. Well, soon after I spoke those words, The Universe presented its own challenge to us. I taught a yoga class on Saturday morning, and afterwards my friend Marbella (who is also a skeptic) said, “Jaime, I saw your daughter in class today.” Yes. That. Is. What. She. Said. I replied, “WHAT? I have chills. I haven’t told anyone but we (I) really want a little girl.” And she said, “Yeah, I saw her.” I immediately texted Gretchen and she replied, “I saw her too.“ And then the bees started swarming my life. Bees in books, bees in overheard conversations, a single (dead) bee sitting on our summer chairs when I brought them out of storage to set up the deck. Bees on Facebook. I didn’t tell Mike right away because I wanted to gather up as many signs as possible before I presented the evidence. So, one night before I went to bed, I knew I had to share it with SOMEONE. I texted both Gretchen and Lauren about the bee sightings and they both wrote back about how crazy/amazing it was. The next morning, I woke up to just one notification on my phone. I had one new Instagram follower: QueenBee&BabyBee. I. MEAN. WHAT. THE. FUCK.
The next night, over dinner, I told Mike about all of the bees. In case I haven’t mentioned it lately, Mike is the best. He’s completely on board with my magic. He said, “No Way!!” and laughed in happy amusement. The following night I was (again) working at Cala’s. I got a picture text from Mike of an empty parking lot. But then I zoomed in and looked deeper. There they were: 17 construction paper bees facing out towards Mike. They were in the Essex Post Office as he and Sam were biking home from the park. Little Bee has become OUR magic.
I choose to trust the synchronicity of the Universe and subscribe to the magic in “coincidences,” “flukes,” “just-so-happens,” and the “you’re-never-going-to-believe-this’s.” To me, it’s God. Maybe to you, it’s a Higher Power of a different name. Or, maybe it’s just simply, “we see things when we want to see them.” But even with that thought-process, there is still something BIG in creating space and opening our hearts and minds to invite in the things we welcome. No matter how we define our terms, there is no denying the greatness that is this life. I am just a small (although very important and privileged) piece of the interconnectedness that makes up our every second of our every day. So what do I do now? Isn’t this what faith is all about? If I stick with this perspective, that feels natural and right, and if I truly BELIEVE, then I will be in good hands, no matter what the outcome. Because there will be peace. Maybe I won’t wake up tomorrow morning. Maybe we don’t ever have another baby. Maybe I do get pregnant again, and we have another boy. I have no shame in sharing the realness that is now. And whatever happens in the future will be what is meant to be.