The Miraculous Power of Intuition – “Divine Intervention and the Healing Power of Love”

Posted On November 22, 2017 / Written by Dr. Linda Gadbois

My first experience in performing what would later come to be considered a “miracle” by the other people involved, came as a desperate response to a moment of complete devastation that pushed me past all limitations causing me to surrender to a higher power at a time in my life when I didn’t even believe in a higher power.  I didn’t overcome my limitations by endlessly engaging in them in an attempt to somehow figure out how to overcome them, but rather by transcending them altogether, where I moved into an altered state of mind where I didn’t perceive any limitations. It came by shifting into another space that was nested within the current one, in which fear didn’t exist and wasn’t a part of my awareness. This experience was an amazing lesson not only in helping me to see my own capabilities and learn to build confidence by believing in myself while going against all odds, but  also revealing to me the shocking reality of how people tend to show up in times when it matters the most.

What happens in the moments when we find ourselves in situations that the eye can’t foresee, often astounds us.  I was abandoned by the people who should have been there, and helped by others that I barely knew.  A true testament of giving up perceived control by simply recognizing and allowing my inner guidance as “intuition” to provide me with what seemed like divine intervention, not through the actions of another person, but as an act of my own will given over to a higher intelligence. I engaged in activities that I performed from a place of sheer knowing with a sense of absolute trust that was unfamiliar and outright peculiar to me as I was doing it.  It was as if I was suddenly consumed by a companion form of consciousness that was benevolent and intimate. One that didn’t make a big deal out of stuff, but just silently stepped in, took over and went about conducting business from a removed state that seemed intimately connected while directing me on what to do.

This is just one part of a series of amazing experiences that spanned 15 months and served to open my eyes to the real potential of the human spirit when acting from a place of love, devotion, and surrender to a higher power that came as a heightened form of self-awareness. This was a particularly strange experience for me because at the time I was an atheist, and didn’t even know for sure if I actually believed in God or a higher power. So this did not come as the result of belief or faith that was of a religious nature, but by breaking down all resistance, allowing me to access and step into my own higher nature. It also served to teach me about the true nature of people I relied on and trusted in moments of great necessity that went painfully unanswered.

My son was born 4lbs. 10oz., fully matured but with what I would discover through a relentless pursuit, as having Hirschsprung’s disease.  He was hospitalized on Thanksgiving Day while just 2 weeks old, and underwent emergency surgery that set into motion an amazing process of self-discovery as a relentless and almost unbearable demonstration of mental and emotional fortitude. After six surgeries, two colostomies, and surgically implanted mainlines due to vascular breakdown of all available IV sites, he peeked out at 5 lbs. 7 oz. at a little over two months old,  then began a process of deteriorating. After losing weight and dropping back down to 4lbs. 8oz., at a little over three months old, he became lethargic, unresponsive and hard to wake up, and began slowly dehydrating while all of his major organs started systematically shutting down. They diagnosed him at a little over 3 months old with “failure to thrive” and removed all life-support while estimating that he had approximately 48 hours before he would die. They gave me an option of leaving him in the hospital and allowing it to happen there or to take them home and when it “happened” I was told to call them and they would take care of all the necessary arrangements.

I can’t even convey the extreme level of grief I was experiencing that had began building a few weeks prior to his diagnosis when I realized he was no longer responding to treatment.  I felt detached from reality and had trouble comprehending what was going on while struggling to perform even the most basic tasks.  The evening before I was to take him home, I was sitting next to his bed, starring at the window which had my own reflection, and one of his nurses came into the room, walked up behind me, gently caressed my shoulders and hair while bending down and softly whispering to me . . . “God gives little boys like Cody to moms like you because you have the strength to do what it takes to see him through this”, and she turned and walked out. That simple gesture filled me with the strength I needed to do what I knew I had to do.

The next morning, following the final diagnosis, and having signed all the legal paperwork, I prepared to take him home, gathering up all his things, and wrapping him snugly in his blanket, and I slowly began the walk down the long hallway. It felt like my life was crashing down all around me as I walked out to my car, trying to muster up the strength to drive us home alone. My husband announced to me a month into the process that it was too much for him to handle, and so he began refraining from coming down to the hospital to be with me and help me deal with things, so I had to do it all on my own. I was left on my own as a new mother at 22 to figure out how “I” was going to deal with it, while making all the decisions by myself while I felt like I was dying inside and was completely overcome with devastation.

As I walked down the hallway heading out to the parking lot it was as if everything began moving in slow motion and I couldn’t think clearly about what I was doing or where I was going. As I went outside and began walking across the parking lot towards my car, I began falling apart emotionally. I felt like I was in a different reality where everything came crashing down, I was trembling inside to the point where I was nauseated, my legs were shaking and my knees started buckling.  I had to sit down on the asphalt in the middle of the parking lot for a few minutes to try and compose myself.  My heart was pounding out of my chest, I couldn’t see from the tears, and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. The ground seemed to be moving and I felt disoriented and as though everything was closing in on me. After a brief period of trying to relax enough that I could get up and make it to the car, I finally got to my feet, and secured my son in his car seat next to me in the front seat and began driving.

A few blocks away from the hospital I stopped at a red light and it was as if something snapped inside of me and the whole world began collapsing around me.  I lost all awareness of everything outside of the car and I suddenly became overwhelmed with grief and started screaming and crying profusely saying, “I refuse to accept this! I refuse. Do you hear me, I refuse to accept this, I will not allow my baby to die!  He wants to live.  He’s going to live.  I will NOT accept this, I refuse”.  I repeated this hysterically while pounding on the steering wheel and the dashboard. I then laid my head against the steering wheel while rocking back and forth mumbling non-sensibly, when I looked down at my little boy peacefully resting, the sunlight streaming through the window lit up his face like a little angel, softly undistinguished and innocently sweet.  I leaned down pressing my face against his and rocking back and forth while mumbling and sobbing, and suddenly I became extremely aware of his heartbeat. As I listened to it beating it seemed to get louder and louder. It became strong and more pronounced. Then a kind of silence and inner peace seemed to fall around me, and a calm feeling rushed over me and my thoughts disappeared and my heart relaxed in sync with his. As I felt the rhythm of my heart beating in-sync with his, it was as if I suddenly knew what I needed to do.  It was a kind of knowing where I felt like I had fallen into a trance. Something I couldn’t understand with words, but simply knew as a feeling inside. I felt a presence in me and all fear suddenly vanished and it was as if I knew exactly what I needed to do to save him. I was filled with a kind of certainty that was removed from all doubt and uncertainty.

Then I felt as if I was waking up from a dream, became present, sat up, wiped the tears away and began calmly driving home, which was 35 miles away. When I got home I gathered my son, went into the house and placed a quilt over the rocking chair. I closed all the curtains, lit a couple of candles, got a glass of water, removed my shirt and bra and took all of my sons clothes off except his diaper and colostomy bag, and sat down in the rocking chair.  I laid him across my bare breasts so he could hear my heart beat, smell my skin, and be warmed by my body.  I then started caressing his body with soft, loving affection, kissing his head and the side of his face, while softly humming a lullaby. I felt as if I was pressing love into his body. I began slowly rocking while running pictures of him through my mind at six months old, smiling and laughing, then at a year old learning to walk and having his first birthday while eating his cake with his fingers, all messy and laughing. Then at two years, playing in the park with the other kids on the polka-dotted pony while laughing so hard he fell down.  I saw him at his second Christmas where he was fascinated with the lights and was more intrigued with the bows and the wrapping paper than he was with the presents.  I imagined him at two and three years old, healthy, and strong as I became filled with an overwhelming love for him. I continued caressing and kissing him as I rocked him gently singing sweet lullabies to him.

At first he was lethargic and unresponsive, like he was in the hospital, his little body was cool and limp. After a few hours he started moving his hands and feet as if readjusting from being uncomfortable. After about six hours he sneezed and rubbed his nose. Then he started moving as if waking up from a nap. After about eight hours, he opened his eyes and gaze straight into mine, then smiled and started acting irritable. As he began squirming slightly trying to breast-feed I thought . . . he’s actually hungry! When I put him down to get his bottle he cried until I picked him back up.  He then drank 4 ounces of a special formula, and later ate some mashed bananas. I fell asleep with him in my arms and by the next day he was fully active, eating, cooing, in playing in his crib.

The hospital called me two days later because they couldn’t figure out why they hadn’t heard from me and wanted to check to see if I was alright. When I told his doctor that he had made what seemed like a full recovery and was eating, drinking, and playing, he was in disbelief and wanted me to bring him in for a checkup.  Upon examining him he said, this doesn’t make any sense, this shouldn’t be possible.  He was then struck by the fact that he recovered without any side effects from what appeared as deterioration of his major organs. He then began questioning me on what I had done, how I did it, and what on earth possessed me to do it, and when I told him, he just got a blank look on his face stared at me for a moment, and finally said “I guess a mother’s love is the ultimate healing power after all”, and shook his head while laughing with a sense of relief.

This would instill the confidence in me for what would come four months later on the second go around of surgeries that involved removing part of his intestines, and when it fully healed, they would close his colostomy and he would run through for the first time since his original surgery at 2 weeks old. They were originally planning on doing the second set of surgeries at 14 to 16 months old because he needed to be around 17 pounds to successfully perform the operation. When I first brought him home (Valentines day) he weighed 4 lbs. 8 oz., but by the time he was seven months old (4 months later) he weighed 16 1/2 pounds.  In four months he gained 12 pounds.  His doctor was struck with amazement. He laughed and said, “I don’t know what you’re feeding him, but keep doing it because it’s certainly working!”

After a series of surgeries the second time, they remove the diseased part of his intestines and let that heal for a couple weeks, and then closed his colostomy. He did well for a couple of days, but then began having severe diarrhea, and after several days, began dehydrating. He once again failed to progress and started falling back into the same pattern.  They then came to me saying that he wasn’t responding to treatment as expected and they needed to put him back on life support and implant a mainline IV into his chest.  But this time I began realizing that the same thing seemed to be happening that happened the first time. As I sat and thought about it I kept getting the feeling I needed to take him home. After thinking about it for a couple of days while monitoring his behavior and deterioration, I decided to take him out of the hospital and bring him home to heal in the same way I had done before.

The doctors refused to give me permission to take him out of the hospital, which was very concerning because it forced me into making a crucial decision that went against all medical advice and was based strictly on my own inner feelings as a realization. I then decided to take him out without their permission, which was a very stressful and risky thing to do, and I had no moral support at all from my husband who was in disbelief over my reaction to the whole matter. I had to sign several legal documents relieving the doctors and hospital from all responsibility. As I was walking down the hall leaving the hospital with him, his doctor was following after me pleading with me by telling me I was “killing my son” and that I didn’t know what I was doing. They were telling me in a forceful manner that if he died they would not be responsible, I would be. But I felt confident in my intuition, what I was realizing and the decision I was making based on it, and so I proceeded in taking him home. When I finally got him home and began caring for him in the same way as before, he was awake within a few hours, alert and wanting to eat. The diarrhea subsided completely after a couple of days and he had his first successful bowel movement at 8 1/2 months old. I was so overcome with relief in knowing I did the right thing that it changed my entire perception of what it means to connect to my own inner power, and I learned how to believe in myself without doubt or fearful negotiation.

Through this experience I learned what it means to love someone so much I was willing to die for him. My entire life crumbled before my eyes, and I lost everything I owned because of it.  I was left in complete ruin financially, had to sell most of my personal belongings, and had to file bankruptcy a year later from astronomical medical bills. In that moment I became very clear on what really matters and what doesn’t.  I learned that we can access super-human strength when we really want and need to.  And I touched on the strength of my true moral fiber that served to catapult me into greater and greater levels of intuition, self-knowledge and confidence that comes from believing in myself and forming absolute faith based on that. I acquired the confidence to stand up against all odds, and walk fully awake into the flame without flinching or shrinking back with intimidation or fear that I may somehow be wrong when everything inside of me was telling me I was right and to move forward with confidence. It’s the greatest sense of power I’ve ever known.

This experience eventually set me on my spiritual path into the Healing Arts. With the knowledge I had gained from this experience as part of my fundamental awareness, years later when I came into contact with the healing practice of Reiki and Healing Touch as a form of Energy Medicine, I immediately saw the connection and chose to study it as a primary healing modality that actually had a name. This experience, though traumatic in the most basic sense of the word, and financially devastating, drastically changed the course of my life and moved me in a completely new direction, as all of the traumas and crisis of my life had ultimately served to do. Now, whenever a major life change begins taking place, I’m no longer afraid or worried, but embrace it for the transformational experience I know it’s going to bring into my life, whether willingly and with full participation, or kicking and screaming . . . the choice is mine, but the lesson remains the same.

When we let go of all resistance to the limitations that normally confine us with fear, grief, and a deep feeling of insecurity and lack of belief in ourselves, and truly surrender to a higher power through a state of sheer devastation, amazing things can happen. When we tap into our own intuition, we’re overcome with a sense of “knowing” that moves us beyond our own conditioned beliefs. It’s as though a different awareness comes over us and we’re perceiving life through the eyes of eternal wisdom. The true meaning of “empowerment” doesn’t come from what we’ve learned through our education and formative conditioning, but by breaking down the walls that confine us to a limited version of reality and letting go while connecting to our higher self, and allowing a higher power to “work through us as us” with complete faith and trust in the outcome.

Dr. Linda Gadbois

“Mom”