“Fuck this shit, I am SO done. I don’t even care how. I don’t give a single flying fuck about the details.
This.
changes.
NOW.”
It was 2013, and I’d just come off the back of the scariest year of my life.
Think – relentlessly and continually, with no warning, losing massive amounts of blood out my vagina scary.
Being told I had to have a compulsory hysterectomy and possible bladder removal scary.
Sitting down with a bevy of doctors and experts at 26 weeks pregnant (a few weeks in to all the madness aka random extreme haemmoraghing) and having the conversation about what it would mean if I made it this many weeks … no this many … how about that many scary.
Hearing that, while there was no real threat to my baby (except for super early childbirth, duh), the condition I had left me with a noteworthy chance of dying during child loss. Due to all the blood loss that could happen, and how fast it would go if so, and how they couldn’t refill it fast enough. That sort of scary.
Coupled with living in hospital off and on most of the time after it all started, while trying to parent my then 3-year-old daughter and … run and grow an on its way to a million bucks a year business.
Wanna know the worst bit, or at least what felt worst of all through all of this, since I quite effectively managed to compartmentalize and separate myself emotionally from all of the above while I focused on manifesting like a MOTHERFUCKER …
The worst bit was the damn sales calls and the webinars!!
Every day, I’d sit there in my hospital bed, all hooked up to ALL the straps and traps (baby monitoring!), and I would do sales calls.
Every few days, I’d run webinars from the hospital cafeteria.
One time, I even ran one while having a cervical scan. Yep, that’s one where they stick the wozit up your hoo-ha. AND there were about 10 men in the room, since they all wanted to get a gander at my rare and unique situation.
(I don’t mean my vagina is a work of mystery and beauty, and rare amongst jewels, although obvs it IS … I’m talking about the rare condition I had :))
Let me tell you –
When your ‘home’ is a hospital and your having cervical scans every other day, you soon stop caring whether or not you’re mid-webinar when it’s time for one, and you just keep on going. A laptop balances nicely on a pregnant belly when your legs are spread and in the air!
Anyway, it was a heavy year that year. I think you get the picture, maybe too well. Haha.
I had what at the time was my biggest month ever (72k, cash received – I only ever talk in cash received btw, not projected), and it did feel good, but at the same time – man.
I was running on empty. The push was slowly but surely starting to feel like NOT alignment. And I wondered –
Did it really have to be this way?
Maybe you know the feeling 🙂
When I look back now, I’m SO glad for that time, for everything that led up to it and even for all of the hospital bed hustle.
It saved me, it kept me focused and purposeful so that I wasn’t thinking about all the scary shit, but it served a purpose far beyond that as well –
It drove me to a breaking point.
An ‘enough is enough’ point, you know?
A point of no return, in which I finally had to acknowledge –
This is not working for me.
I can’t keep doing this.
Yeah, my income is impressive … and I’m on my way to a million dollar a year business … but at what cost, my SOUL?
There are certain times in life, I don’t have to tell you, when we’re thrown a set of cards that basically throw US up against a wall and into a position of NO LONGER BEING ABLE TO AVOID HONOURING OUR TRUTH.
In that hospital, after weeks and weeks of journaling, blogging, deep prayer and manifestation work around having a healthy baby and also NOT DYING, I came slowly but surely to a conclusion I had always known was coming.
Fuck.
This.
Shit.
I was DONE.