Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Forty-two years ago today, my first son, Dustan Paul Moore, was born. I was seventeen, single and scared beyond belief. Just a few months before, I had graduated from high school, seven months pregnant, without anyone, even my mother, knowing this. Of course I had told the young man who had impregnated me, but he had suggested I have an abortion. This scared me more than giving birth so I stopped talking to him and kept to myself as much as possible.

As a woman who will be sixty next month, I now look back at that scared, lonely seventeen year old and I marvel at her strength, tenacity and fragileness. I also cry because I can see still her, lying in bed at night, praying for help but not knowing who to go to. Praying that she was not pregnant, all the time knowing she was.

Before I gave birth, I had decided to give the baby up for adoption, which seemed the logical thing to do. My mother was against this, but allowed me to make this decision. On the day he was born, when I held him for the first time, I knew I could not let anyone else have him. I felt a love that I had never known existed. I wanted to take him home to my mother’s house and mother him. At the age of eight months, he passed back to Spirit. He had cerebral hemorrhage and didn’t make it through the operation.

I have always felt deep inside that somehow I was responsible for his death.
After all, I kept the pregnancy a secret, I didn’t take prenatal vitamins, and on and on. I didn’t even see a doctor until I was almost eight months pregnant.

I have two good friends who are prenatal nurses and they told me that sometimes the younger mothers, who don’t take good care of themselves, give birth to healthier babies than the older women who are exquisite in taking care during their pregnancies. This helped me but deep inside I know I still carried guilt.

This morning, July 4, I awoke to the realization that it was not my fault.
The doctor, young and inexperienced had taken my baby by force, tearing my vagina in the process and injuring the baby’s head. I know I must have known this all along, but had pushed it so far deep down inside my soul that my guilt covered it totally.

No, I am not blaming anyone for the death of my baby. I am saying that finally I realized that I truly did LOVE him. That I didn’t want him to die and that his death marred my heart and soul in a way that I did not understand until now.

Now I am healing from a rare autoimmune disease that affects my eyes.
They burn and itch from blisters growing on my cornea. My sight is not as it once was. A holistic doctor is treating me and I am changing my diet, etc., doing everything I can to heal my body.

And now that others are praying for me, doing sweats and ceremonies for me, asking for my healing, I am realizing that disease really does mean – dis ease. I have been carrying so much hurt, guilt, pain, disappointment, etc in my soul that my body had to get my attention to make me deal with these. I am healing all on levels. I am feeling love from so many and I am grateful to be loved.

So, gradually, as I work to heal, and others work to help me heal, my soul is also healing. This is a process, but I know, deeply I know, that all of this is part of my path as a seer, as a medium, as a writer, as a mother, as a grandmother.

Life is full of mystery and we are the mystery.


  1. MariJo, you are healing in miraculous ways. Love you deeply

  2. Dear MariJo,

    Thank you for this piece of honesty and glimpse into your soul. I can't imagine a more liberating way to celebrate FREEDOM today than to be free from guilt, shame, blame and pain. and instead to feel love, care, and compassion for ourselves.

    Ah Ho dear sister. I admire the healing journey you are on and am so appreciative of the healing help you give to all of us daily.

    In Joy, Jane

  3. Thank you MariJo for the brave and vulnerable sharing of your story. . .of suffering, and mystery, and healing. . . Peace and Love abound with you.

    Janice Evans

  4. Dear MariJo,
    May the Creator continue to bless you with insights and healing that will--in turn--enable your great gift of healing others. Take care, dear colleague.

  5. Dear MariJo,
    I know the Creator is with you and working on your healing...inside and out.....I will call you within the next couple of days....


  6. This is such an insightful, powerful and soul touching piece. Thank you for sharing your journey. When you share on this level it is healing for all that read your work. Blessings on your journey.

  7. MariJo,
    I had no idea. What a powerful and personal story--thank you for sharing. You are a courageous and strong woman. I am honored to know you.

    Love, Melisa

  8. I was moved by your blog. I too carry feelings that I am the cause of things that happen in my life to myself and to the ones that i have loved. Having chosen the life of a healerin this lifetime, I realize that I cna only do the best that I can in the circumstances that I have chosen/am led to -and things happen in my life and things happen to others--in their lifetime--no matter how long or short. Death is not an end--thise spirits who have left us are never really gone--and we can continue to learn from them. I am happy for you that you have moved from guilt to love. Continue to love yourself and receive healing

  9. Dear friend, I missed this post while in NY and am grateful to read it this morning in the soft cool, with time to let it sink in. This is a huge piece in the story that is your story and you will use your new knowledge and freedom in ways I can barely imagine. The process of you seeing and healing your sight have such profound implications for the remarkable work you do. Much love to you, my dear.

  10. In spirit and love Marijo.

    I wanted to leave a comment the day you posted this but the comment link wasn't working for me that day, so I am here now holding you in the light.