From Darkness To Light; Awakening The Spirit Within

By Michelle Hayman

A true story that reveals the reality of our existence, taking us from the ordinary to the extraordinary. Overcoming the darkness that binds our souls to the material world and exploring the spirit world beyond the veil.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michelle Hayman
• Release date: Oct 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223202349

Book preview

From Darkness To Light; Awakening The Spirit Within

Michelle Hayman

Published by Michelle Hayman, 2023.

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From Darkness to Light

Awakening The Spirit Within

Michelle Hayman

COPYRIGHT

© 2023 Michelle Hayman. All rights reserved.

The reproduction or usage of this ebook, or any part thereof, is strictly prohibited without the express written consent of Michelle Hayman.

For questions or concerns, please contact; [e-mail]

It is important to note that the opinions presented in this ebook are exclusively those of the author.

The author of this ebook explicitly states that medical advice is not given, either directly or indirectly. The author's sole purpose is to provide information based solely on factual, real-life occurrences.

All unedited photographic evidence is the property of Michelle Hayman and may not be used or reproduced by any means without the written permission of the author.

INTRODUCTION

This has been the most difficult task I've ever faced, but it's worth it to tell you that you're so much more than you realise.

For those of you who are enduring the repetitive grind every day and are wondering about the meaning behind it all, this message is for you.

Allow me to take you on a fascinating journey through a true story that is both strange and at times, quite chilling.

My only request is that you accompany me on this adventure until you reach the final page.

THE ARRIVAL OF EDEN

Call an ambulance. My waters have just broken!

It felt surreal that this was happening. Her due date was still two months away. I wasn't prepared for her early arrival. The ultrasound showed no problems, but there I was, laying in a large puddle on the double bed in the nursery. The ambulance arrived quickly, and the compassionate staff tended to me with care as I tried to reassure myself that our baby was just being born a little early. So long as she's healthy, we'll handle things, I convinced myself. But despite the full examination and sonogram, the midwife found no evidence of my water breaking. You're free to go home, she said confidently.

Even though I was a first-time mum, I found it simple to differentiate between the smell of urine and amniotic fluid. Plus, this liquid had exited out from a different hole straight onto the bed and floor. I could provide evidence from the soaked mattress. If only she would listen. We had no other choice but to follow the specialist's orders, as always. Two days later came the unmistakable smell of death mixed with the soothing aroma of lavender as I lay in the bath, trying to find relief from the pain of the contractions.

CALL AN AMBULANCE NOW!

The ambulance was cold and sterile, and the sound of the siren helped to drown out the pain. I remembered a summer’s day when I came home from work, my heart bursting with excitement and anticipation.

Boy or girl, they have to be called Eden!

The ride to the hospital was a blur, and suddenly, I found myself in a room on the maternity ward.

As I lay there, I could hear the soft whispers of the nurses as they checked my vitals, their faces giving nothing away. I was so lost in my own thoughts that their words were like distant whispers in the wind. Their silent faces made my anxiety grow, and I wished they would reassure me. I waited, expecting someone to smile at me at any moment. The smiles never came.

The same midwife who had once reassured me was now the bearer of the worst news - my daughter's heart had stopped beating. It left me reeling with shock, my mind unable to make sense of what was happening. The room was a revolving door of staff members, each taking their turn examining my private parts or administering drugs. We were all at a loss for words. The only sounds that broke the silence were the cries of newborns and the occasional laugh from the family next door.

Time for you to push, said the midwife.

The numbness was unbearable as I gazed at our little daughter, bundled in a massive, pink hospital blanket. We wondered what colour her eyes were, but she’d never open them. The absence of cries made the silence even more overwhelming when she was born. We lost our words in the shifting tides of emotion between sadness and anger. Chris' mobile phone, which had been sitting on standby, abruptly interrupted the silence. Out of nowhere, a song began playing through the speakers, and the singer's voice filled the room with emotion.

Have I Told You Lately That I Love You, by Van Morrison.

The next day, despite being exhausted and emotionally drained, I managed to force myself out of bed after receiving the news that Eden’s body had been taken to the morgue. The medical examiner also inquired if we wanted an autopsy performed, which we declined.

Just let me know how much time you think you’ll need, said the man at the chapel of rest on

opening the door.

Twenty-five years?! Though that wouldn’t have been long enough to hold her, I thought.

Besides recovering from giving birth, I had to take care of planning for Eden's cremation after being discharged, which only added to the emotional burden that I was already carrying. Every movement caused a new wave of pain, each one worse than the last. Drinking three bottles of wine a day had become my standard habit. Back then, the only thing that scared me was finishing my last drop. In order to avoid prying questions about my deteriorating state, our dear friend Granville generously lent us his old caravan and an empty field, enabling us to explore an unfamiliar location.

But even in our isolation, the pain remained a constant companion, stalking us like a predator.

While it was bittersweet to come back home, I knew I had to move forward with life and break my reliance on alcohol. Regardless of the weather, I would spend hours outdoors, chain-smoking and trying to convince myself that the wine was easing my suffering. Why was I punishing myself?