Angel Visit

Facebook post from December 25, 2016:

I have to share my annual sappy Christmas post! It’s become tradition. It has also become tradition for one or more of my family members to make me cry when opening gifts. This year did not disappoint. The award for “make Mom sob” goes to my oldest son, John Wellbrock. So, here’s the story:

When John was 2 months old, he suddenly developed an illness which made it difficult for him to breathe. He was admitted into Cincinnati Children’s Hospital Medical Center where he spent 10 days literally fighting for his life. His oxygen saturation was dropping into the low 90’s and at one point into the 80’s. He would cough and cough and cough and cough and NOTHING could stop it . . . except . . . when I would sing “Come Monday” by Jimmy Buffet to him. You see, when I was pregnant with John, Jimmy had just released his 4 disc album set “Boats, Beaches, Bars & Ballads” and his dad and I would blast it through the house for hours on end. This baby LOVED Jimmy Buffet from in utero! So, there I stood, over his crib, wires and tubes attached to his precious little body, my tired momma arms caressing his sweet little face as I sang him his favorite song. Over and over again. And he would catch his breath.

For 10 days this went on. I refused to leave his side. I told everyone who kept suggesting I go home and rest, “I don’t want him to ever open his eyes and not see his mommy standing there, praying for him and taking care of him”. The doctor told me he could die and I was not about to let that happen.

Call it exhaustion or be a believer, but on Thanksgiving night 1993, after I had nibbled at the plate of turkey and the fixings that my mom had delivered me, I sat in the rocking chair, watching my baby boy struggle to breathe. I drifted off to sleep, the light dim in the room, shining from the crack beneath the bathroom door. My eyes suddenly opened when I felt a presence in the room. A peacefulness enveloped my body as I silently watched a magnificent being of light stand at the foot of John’s metal hospital crib. This angel or heavenly being, just watched him. And he stopped coughing and studied. I knew in that moment that John was going to be okay as tears streamed down my face.

John was released soon after and had no long-lasting residual effects from his illness. They never did give us a definitive answer to what was making him ill. They labeled it an “echo virus” and said it was similar to Whooping Cough, but all of those cultures kept coming back negative.

Jump to Christmas 2016. My beautiful son, wrote me a poem about this time in our lives together. He made this gift . . . his words, his creation, our moment captured.

Forever I will remember that “Come Monday it’ll be alright . . for come Monday I’ll be holding you tight.”

Peace,

Teri

Goals and Self-Care

Facebook post from January 3, 2017:

 

Goals for 2017 include continued self-care, cultivating peace in my life, experiencing continued connectedness. This morning before heading off to work, I took some “T” time.

I’m currently reading 13 different books but my favorite is “The Gifts of Imperfection”. If you’re looking for an amazing read, pick this book up.

I also wrote in a Gratitude journal, with today’s instructed subject: “To learn from our enemies is the best way to loving them: for it makes us grateful to them” . . . not that I have “enemies”, per se, but a difficult subject to write about in a grateful way, nonetheless.

Finally, I took a few minutes to mindfully color. Just breathe and settle into my day.

Take care of yourself in some way today. Whether big or small. You are so very worth it ?

I wish you a life filled with an abundance of joy, tranquility, laughter and love.

Peace,

Teri

#traumainformedcare #hopeforhealing #hope #healing #unicornshadows

My Muse Rocks

Holy wow!

I did it.

I finished the book proposal. I told myself I wanted it done mid-January. And, look at that. Turned it in to my editor by Jan 15th! This sample chapter turned out even better than I had dreamed. Inspiration was flowing through me. #mymuserocks

As I conversed with my amazingly talented editor, Alee, earlier today, I have to admit I was pretty blown away by how this process is unfolding. It’s as if the stars are aligning and I am seeing the path before me in this magnificent illumination of light. As Alee and I tossed around branding ideas for my new website, the themes for all of my endeavors came into clear focus: healing, hope, empowerment. She loved the idea of “hope for healing” which was the Tristate Trauma Network’s fall conference Trauma-Informed Care (TIC) banner theme.

This book, Unicorn Shadows . . . a story of hope.

Our Sammie therapy dog role and our Sammie’s Bundles of Hope Project . . . healing through therapy animal services and a hope-inspired project.

My podcast, The Healing Place Podcast . . . a safe space to share stories of healing and hope.

My upcoming speaking tour with a brilliant friend and leader in the TIC arena . . . continued sharing of the “hope for healing” message.

These four areas of concentration are practically full-time jobs in and of themselves. Yet, I find myself energized and in a constant state of creative movement. I should be exhausted! However, here I sit, mulling over digital makeover suggestions; talking to the President/CEO of Hay House Publishing, Reid Tracy, on the phone during a Q&A session tonight; creating new business cards with my soon-to-be-released www.teriwellbrock.com displayed in happy purple font; designing labels for our Sammie’s Bundles of Hope “Hope Folders” for care-givers;  and editing my sample chapter in the book proposal.

This is really happening.

My suggestion to anyone out there hoping to make their dreams come true . . . take one step toward that dream right now. Research something. Make a call. Send an email. Write your short-term or long-term goals out. Put your dream out into the universe on social media. Then tomorrow . . . take another step. And the next day . . . yet, another. And do not stop moving toward that dream until you are sitting in your favorite space one evening, around 8:15 pm, and your heart starts to smile as your soul whispers to it, “This is really happening”.