There's no such thing as coincidence.

Following the untimely death of Navarea, my sister sent me a link to a book she wanted to buy titled "Growing Up in Heaven" by author and medium James Van Praagh.  A few weeks or so later, my mother presented the book to me as a gift.  Her exact words were, "I think this book will help you heal."  


I was certainly open to just about anything.  


I finished the book in two days.


I'm always on a quest for truth and knowledge and am certainly game for a good read.  I've never been a skeptic and have always known first-hand, through my own personal experiences, there is a spiritual realm.  I'm acutely aware of this.


In the book, the author mentioned that children that passed at a young age or that were aborted or were stillbirths, continue their journey of "growth" in heaven.  In some inexplicable way, I've always believed this to be true.  I never thought of death as "final" rather a new beginning.


The author went on to say that sometimes when we lose a child, or loved one even, the grieving process can be so intense, the living misses the opportunity to connect or make contact with the deceased when the deceased is attempting to make contact with the person(s) grieving.  Such an attempt for instance can be a familiar smell (perfume, scent, cologne, etc...); communicating with the deceased in a dream is actual direct contact; or perhaps a random thought, or seemingly random song on the radio that reminds the living of the deceased.


The day after I was discharged from the hospital, my bestie and her husband sent flowers and balloons to my house.  There were two mylar balloons attached to the vase that read "I Love You."  I cut the strings to the balloons after the flowers died and one balloon completely deflated, while the other remained inflated.  


I spent many days on my couch crying and feeling down while this one balloon literally stalked me.  I distinctly remember there was no air blowing and no ceiling fans whirling.  Quietly and silently, as if someone was gently guiding it by its string, this balloon followed me throughout my house for almost two weeks strong.


It was as if it were begging for attention; like a child waiting for some form of acknowledgement.  Even the kids and the dog noticed it.  At first my dog would howl at it then run from it; eventually he just accepted it and would silently watch it move throughout the house.  If I was in the kitchen cooking, it waited by the door frame, sometimes even coming into the kitchen and then floating right back out.


It would even float to my bedroom at night and spontaneously go in and out of the kids rooms.  Before the helium finally seeped out, the balloon accompanied me on the couch while I was watching a movie...only this time, instead of floating in mid-air, or above me, it lowered itself and was completely at rest beside me.


Fast forward to this past weekend.


Alex and I went to a wine tasting/festival.  We had an awesome time.  After all we had been through, things were really starting to shift for us and we were peacefully enjoying each others company.


We began to revisit the topic of marriage and out of nowhere Alex says "3/13/13."  I replied, "What's happening on that date?"  He said, "What do you think about getting married on that date?"


What's funny is, after many discussions about marriage, we could never truly settle on a date thus causing us to hold off indefinitely.  In my mind, I felt like that particular date was significant only I didn't know how or why.  


We literally scoured the Internet looking for anything relating to those numbers from past events, to Bible scriptures and nothing...


We've also discussed the possibility of trying to have another baby and have been talking to our team of doctors to determine if it's something we should pursue soon.  While I was home going through my medical files today, in preparation for my doc's appointment Friday, I felt slightly overwhelmed.


I felt an incredible sadness while reading the notes and to be honest I didn't really know why I was fixated on reading them but I was almost possessed by it.


After combing through 256 pages of medical notes (in no particular order) I stumble upon the labor and delivery birthing sheet.  Immediately my eyes zero in on 3:13pm; the actual time of birth and death of our daughter; not 5:53pm as I, for some crazy reason, remembered (or thought).


I was immediately blown away.  My sadness transformed into instant relief and peace.  It was meant for me to see that; to make that connection.  I truly believe that was Navarea's way of reaching out to her dad and providing confirmation for me.


When I asked Alex what motivated him to pick that date, he didn't have an honest answer, rhyme or reason. 


 He simply said, "I don't know.  It just came to me."  


As if her birthday of 10/24/11 isn't significant enough (10/2 = my birthday; 4 = Alex's four girls; 11= Alex's birthday 11/11)...call me crazy but I don't know how much more symbolic that can get.


My mother always said there are no coincidences in life.  Everything that happens, happens for a reason.   I'm definitely a firm believer now.  Some folks may think I'm crazy.  Some may think I'm reading too deep into it.


Quite frankly, I don't care what anyone thinks.  It's about what I believe to be true.  




*Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.  (Ref. Hebrews 11:1 KJV)