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Author
Biography After
six emotionally challenging years, trying to fall pregnant, Bronwen and her
husband Mark, were blessed with the miracle of IVF. As a young woman, Bron back-packed
and worked her way around the world for two years, then added a further nine
years of travel, as an international flight attendant. She has a rich background in the
Holistic Healing field, and now works from home (during baby friendly hours), as
a Remedial Massage Therapist and Reflexologist. She has also grown up with a
natural clairvoyant ability, and practices Clairvoyant Readings, for the purpose
of guidance and healing-teaching meditation, spiritual development and dream
interpretation. Bron has spent two years involved in radio on the mid-north coast of N.S.W. Australia, with her own Mind, Body & Spirit program - where she interpreted listener's dreams, live on air, and has just completed a children's book, written for her daughter, as an adventure story, about dolphins and mermaids. Introduction
When
people think of babies, beautiful images of cherubs and cheeky faces come
forward, the gurgling delight of a newborn’s first expressions in life—they
are treasures to embrace and coo at and for most women, nurture and draw out the
deepest primal instinct, that of motherhood. During
my personal journey into trying to create a baby, I learnt so much about this
instinct. It didn’t just appear to me out of the blue, it was always there,
for quite a long time, not being fulfilled. It was extremely difficult to
comprehend—why making a baby could be so trying and elusive to some and such
an easy event for others. Why did God have to punish me? As
an individual, I have a natural clairvoyant ability that has helped me to sense,
see, hear and feel life beyond the physical world alone. Being very sensitive
always provided a more holistic understanding towards creating and losing new
life. It
didn’t become quite clear until further down the track, that a baby was not
ready to be here yet, and no matter how much that hurt, or affected my own soul,
there was a place within, to find peace and learn and grow, while patience was
developed further, and the incoming soul completed their own agenda, in the
World beyond our own. I
wanted to write a book about this. A book that reveals all that is good, and all
that is not so good, about IVF, and unfulfilled dreams. A book that talks about
the spiritual counterpart to new life—the spiritual being. It
is the core essence of each of us, and whomever we conceive. There is a glorious
heavenly person to consider, and some of them teach us tenfold, from their
Divine Residence, before we can ever hold them in our arms. On
my journey, I was surrounded by many different women with different views,
philosophies and baby-making experiences. My immediate family and circle of
friends, all travelling a road unique to my own, yet constantly touching me
somehow—challenging my will, feeding my strongest desire. I
am inspired to begin writing at a time when my loved ones, are still in Heaven,
having been here and returned a few times over. The constant roller coaster of
hope and then disappointment and grief, has gradually taught my soul the
intricacies of faith and acceptance. If you have ever wondered about the journey of your baby’s soul, or have ever lost a baby, or someone close to you has, this is a spiritual blueprint as well as a factual physical one, for perhaps understanding why and how. It may not register as your truth, and then again, it may be the very medicine to see you through. Read a sample:Inside the Dark Forest
Writing
has always given me the opportunity to get in touch with every feeling I have,
whether through stories or poetry. I remember my primary school teacher making a
point of telling the class, that I was very good at written expression. I
wonder if Mr McCormack would know that written expression was good for
me. That it had sometimes saved my life, my sanity and my feelings of worth in
this world. It had helped me through the hardest of times, just to find another
place to put emotions into. A place to be honest and real and raw. When
I was sexually assaulted 12 years ago, I eventually wrote 40 pages of what
happened and how it felt—it gave me the personal empowerment to move on as a
victor, not a victim. Here
I find myself again, needing to write it all down. Everything. Nothing missed. I
want to put my story before my own eyes and embrace it somehow, as a collective
experience of my life’s journey. I
am almost 36 years old. When I was ten, my mum had a baby; my brother Geoff and
I loved his smell, his feeling, and his sparkle. I loved babies and I couldn’t
wait to have one of my own. It had always been in the back of my mind that one
day, I’d do that, get those cuddles and croon a little person off to sleep in
my arms. One day I’d be a mother and I’d just adore the baby who came to me. By
thirty years old and no partner in sight, I began to wonder if maybe I was going
to miss out on a family. I looked
into the idea of adoption or artificial insemination and thought quite seriously
about becoming a single parent. My
biological clock had been ticking a long time by then—all through my twenties. I’d picked up so many little babies and children on the
planes whilst I worked as an airhostess and every time I would feel this strong
surge from my heart, wanting so much to be in a story where I had this
happening. I used to see their little auras and I believe that babies are just
like Angels, their purity and innocence reflects real beauty and paradise, just
like Heaven. Three
years later I met my soulmate, and fell deeply in love with the man I had waited
an eternity for. He told me that he had had a vasectomy after his fourth child,
from his first marriage, but it never registered as a potential problem for
having more children. I remember just shrugging and saying, “I’ve found you, and we’ll find a way. I know I’m
going to have a baby and I know that you are my soulmate, the right man for
me”. I even experienced visionary dreams around that time to confirm this
inner knowing for me personally. I
honestly believed that on our honeymoon, I would get pregnant. That we would be
in the 5% of small cases where vasectomies fail and just because we had made
love, and I wanted a baby, then that was all there was to it. I remember walking
along this lovely beach in Tahiti and meeting these two little children. A
Polynesian girl, 4 years old and her little brother jumped out of a tree in
front of us. The little girl later came running up to me with a flower and I
said to Mark, “These are our children. This is a sign about our children.” I
felt so strongly that I was being shown something clearly. I
couldn’t wait to get on with it. Being married had made me incredibly clucky.
I had found my nest and now I needed to lay my eggs and be a mother bird. We organized to meet a well-respected surgeon, renowned for
his success with vasectomy reversals in Sydney. We just thought, we needed to do
this and then we could start to bring our children here. Mark’s operation went
for 5 hours, 2 hours longer than normal and we were told it all looked pretty
good. We had to wait a few months before trying and these months seemed the
longest wait in the world. We also had to struggle to find the money to pay the
huge medical bill, the amount for such an operation, was something neither of us
had ever seen in our joint bank accounts, let alone tried to save. It was quite
hair-raising trying to meet the deadlines of each medical fee. But we did it,
and we were so proud of our ability to get there. For
12 months, I watched my periods come, one after the other. I would dread my
cycles like a disease. I hated myself for bleeding every time when all around me
people were just getting pregnant because they felt like it. They
would say, “I think I’ll have a baby now”, and then just have it. I
couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me and I remember crying a lot and
trying to change my diet etc. to improve my chances.
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