I Connect With a Protective Messenger

Full transcript of the My True Ghost Stories episode “I Connect With a Protective Messenger.” Listen to this episode.

Just as the pain began to overwhelm me, something appeared at the window. Still, silent and full of grace, I knew I wasn't alone. Welcome to episode 45 of My True Ghost Stories. Last week, I told a story about a brief psychic connection that I had with a goldfish. And today, I will tell you the story of an even more surprising spiritual experience with a member of the animal kingdom.

When I was nine months pregnant with my first baby, I was sort of in denial that I would actually ever go into labor. I just couldn't see it happening. So, imagine my surprise when I woke up at 4 a.m. on my due date with strange pains in my abdomen that stretched around to my lower back. Everything that they had told me to watch for for early labor.

And there had been other telltale symptoms the day before. But somehow I managed to rationalize that even though I had all these symptoms, including labor pains, on my actual due date, I somehow rationalized that this was not labor and I would just go back to sleep and it would go away. Was I thinking I would just stay pregnant for the rest of my life? I don't know. But there at 4 a.m.

on my due date with regular labor pains, I was somehow managing to uphold this denial despite it all. No, I told myself it's not labor. It's something else. I just need to rest. Now any woman who has been through labor will know why I wasn't totally gun-ho to get started on this.

And even though it was my first baby, I had seen the films in that wacky childbirth class we had been to. I had seen what is supposed to happen, which is nearly impossible to process. And I did not want to do it. So there I was, hoping against hope that this was not actually happening. And that I would just have a normal day today.

Maybe go to the supermarket and then to the pool later this afternoon. That's what I was hoping for for this day. A trip to the supermarket and maybe a trip to the pool. Yet the pains persisted and I was unable to ignore them. I waited for the sun to come up and I decided to call the midwife and explain to her what was going on.

Still hoping for some other explanation for regular repeating abdominal pains in my ninth month pregnant belly on my due date. I called the midwife. I described my symptoms. And she said those words I did not want to hear. She said, Okay, it sounds like you're an early labor.

Oh, I said sadly and meekly. I didn't think this would actually happen. What? She responded. You didn't think this would happen?

Never mind, I answered, knowing how ridiculous that had sounded, that I didn't think I would ever go into labor. She told me to drink water, try to relax, call her back in a few hours, stuff like that. And it got worse as labor's due. The pains got stronger and a little more frequent and then much stronger. And they got so strong that I was convinced that it couldn't get any worse and that I was going to have that baby any minute.

I called the midwife to tell her we were on our way. The baby is coming. I even talked right through a labor pain. I was so eager to get there. And she said, More horrible words.

No, don't come in. Take a walk around the block a few times and call me back in about two hours. Two hours? Around the block? Is she crazy?

Is she some sort of a quack? I thought. Does she want my neighbors to deliver my baby next to a stop sign? I'm one of these creeps around the block that she was so naively suggesting? I'm telling you, this baby is coming right now.

But instead of yelling all that into the phone, I said in the calmest voice I could muster up. Why two hours? And she answered, it's too early to come in. I can tell by your voice that you're still an early labor. Oh my God.

If this was early labor, I didn't want to know what was coming. I walked around the block one time. I waited one hour, not two. More pains came. Worst than the ones before.

I called the midwife. A new midwife was on duty now. Okay, you can come in, she said. Although she said that she could tell by my voice that I was still an early labor. But I knew she was wrong.

We went in. I spoke to her with a smile on my face. I assumed she would immediately send me to labor and delivery. Instead, she said, with a smile on her face, that I should go back home and walk around the block some more. Shouldn't I just walk around this block instead?

So I'll be closer to the hospital? I asked pleadingly, thinking that I needed to be close to the hospital because I was obviously just about to have this baby. No, she said. It probably won't happen until tonight. Tonight?

It was early afternoon. I burst into tears. She put a comforting arm around me and gave me and my husband a few tips for getting through this day. And it sounded like complete baloney to me. Stuff like chemo-meal tea, more walking, and benadryl as a last resort.

And I decided that she clearly didn't understand. Although she obviously did. This was her profession and she did this every day. She really knew that I had many, many more hours to go. And she was right.

I felt so alone, so scared, like no human power could help me. I needed some strength, some sign that I was being watched over, some support from the universe. So we went home. In the slightly crowded elevator up to our seventh floor apartment, an elderly neighbor of ours took a kindly look at my big pregnant belly and said, are you still here? Which is what all the grandmas in the neighborhood had been saying to me in that last huge month.

Meaning, haven't you had that baby yet? And usually I laughed and smiled any day now. I would reply happily despite the denial that I described earlier in this story. But this time, the, are you still here? Question broke my little heart.

As I couldn't believe that I was in the elevator, heading back upstairs and not holding a newborn in a hospital bed. I was so heartbroken at this that I started sobbing loudly on that crowded elevator, to everyone's embarrassment I'm sure. But nevertheless, there we were, still here. And apparently it was going to get worse. And boy, did it get worse?

Eventually I couldn't walk around the block anymore. So, as the sunset, I just started walking around the bedroom. I was understandably anti-social, so my husband stayed out in the living room, bringing me water and little snacks and timing the contractions, which were unfortunately way too far apart to go into the hospital. It was comforting to have him there, so attentive and aware. But I still felt alone in this world.

And so afraid. And that's when it happened. My show of support from the universe, from above. As it darkened outside, and the orange and yellows of the sunset colored the sky, a dove, a white dove, landed on the window cell of the bedroom. A window sill that no bird had ever perched on before, and never perched on again, a white dove, a symbol of peace and protection, a white dove, a symbol of love and fertility.

Landed on the window sill, settled in, and watched me. Literally followed me with her eyes as I walked across the room. I looked at that bird, who I knew was a woman, the white dove that was watching me, and I felt peace. I felt protected. I labored for many more hours after that, pacing the room, crying out with pain, resting in between.

And that dove remained there the whole time, never flying away, settled in, and watching me for hours. And I watched her back. We are in this together. I whispered softly to her between contractions. And this was the only thing that made me feel safe.

Everything that doves represent peace, hope, love, fertility. All these things were going on here. But the reason that I believe that dove was there, sent to my window from another realm to watch over me laboring, for hours, I believe that dove was there because doves are seen as messengers from the divine, bringing comfort and reassurance. And that's what I got. I got comfort and reassurance from this white bird.

She saw me through one of the scariest and most painful nights of my life, and she did not fly away. She sat there on the windowsill calmly looking in at me, supporting me for the whole time I was in that room. Eventually, the labor pains were close enough together that my husband called the midwife, and she asked him to put me on the phone. I started talking, and then a contraction started, and I just dropped the phone. My husband picked it up.

Pringarin, the midwife said. The dove was still there when we left. I was carrying my little red suitcase when I went into the bedroom to say goodbye, and to say thank you. In the hospital, they put me in a room there in labor and delivery, and I checked the window sill. I was wishing the dove would have somehow followed us and would watch me through this window.

But she was not there. But even without her, I felt supported by her spirit, and all the time she had spent watching over me at home. And here, at the hospital, I didn't feel so alone anymore, because we were finally going to do this. No tea, no benedriel, no walking around the block. It was on.

And it didn't go great. But it did go great, and that I got to hold my first baby eventually. Much, much later that night. I got to hold that sweet pink, healthy baby. When we returned home a few days later, there was no dove on the bedroom window sill, and that was okay.

I knew they. The powers that be, the gods, the universe, my guides. I knew they were watching over me, and would send a representative, like a dove, when I really needed one. As always, if you have enjoyed this episode of My True Go Stories, please take a second to review it, subscribe, and share it with a friend, to help this show grow. And if you would like to hear more stories from me, about my regular day to day life in New York City and all the happenings here, please subscribe to The Patreon.

And the link to The Patreon is in the show notes. And that's all for today. Thank you for listening to today's episode. And if you think your house is haunted, want energy cleared from your space, or need a custom spiritual ritual, I'm here to help. Visit jpclearing.com or email me at jpclearing60 at gmail.com.

Don't forget to join me here every Tuesday for a new episode. Until next time.