A Journey Through Surrender, Healing, and Trust

Some stories don’t belong to logic.

They belong to something older.

Something deeper.

This is one of them.

I’m sharing this now because it moved me in ways I didn’t expect—

and because grief, healing, and trust all deserve space to be witnessed.

 

The Vision That Came Before

In October 2024, I attended my second Joe Dispenza retreat.

It was a deeply healing event for me—one that opened something sacred—and in one of the meditations, I had a vision:

A long dinner table… me standing to speak… and during that speech, announcing that I was pregnant.

That image wasn’t just a passing thought.

It came back over and over again in the following months.

Not the pregnancy itself—the retreat was the real vision. The pregnancy was a detail, a thread woven into it. But it stayed with me. Every time I meditated on the retreat, the image of that moment returned: me standing there, telling the group.

We weren’t actively trying to get pregnant.

But we also weren’t not trying.

 

The Positive Test

Three weeks before the March 2025 retreat… I had symptoms.

I took a test. Positive.

The doctor confirmed it—although it was too early to know much else.

I prepared my welcome speech without the announcement—I didn’t think I’d say anything. It felt fragile.

But on the day itself, something in me said:

This is the moment you saw.

So I shared it. Quietly. Lovingly. Full of wonder.

 

The First Signs

A few days into the retreat, I started bleeding.

Not much. No cramps.

I checked with my sister, who’s a midwife—she said it could be nothing. Bleeding can happen. So I stayed calm. I wasn’t worried.

But things shifted on the last day.

 

The Walking Meditation

At our closing walking meditation, I dropped in deep.

Beyond thought. Beyond imagination.

Into a space I recognize now—the field. The void.

I was walking alone, uphill through the trees…

and all I could see were sticks shaped like the letter V.

Not a few. Only V-shaped ones. Everywhere.

It felt like something was trying to speak to me.

At first I thought—Vincent?

But the voice said no.

It kept repeating: V. V. V.

And then I heard it: Vittoria.

I had never heard that name in connection to our family.

It had never come up.

But in that moment, I knew—it was her.

The soul inside me.

My little girl.

And I also knew… she was saying goodbye.

She told me she would come back.

But she was leaving now.

 

The Moment of Release

When I got back to the villa, I went to the bathroom—

and the first blood clot came out.

It was happening.

I didn’t tell anyone at the retreat.

I told Vincent privately.

We held each other.

We were calm. Not sad. Just… in it.

There was nothing to ruin.

There was peace in that goodbye.

 

Echoes and Waiting

After we returned, I had the echo.

They confirmed the pregnancy—but no heartbeat.

They told me to prepare for a miscarriage.

Two weeks later, it was confirmed.

But my body didn’t recognize it.

It still thought I was pregnant.

I was bleeding every day. Weak. Exhausted.

Weeks passed. Another echo.

There was still tissue inside.

I was given two options:

Take pills to induce contractions,

or have surgery—a procedure that might involve scraping the uterine wall.

That word—scraping—shattered me.

That was my worst fear.

Scar tissue. Damaged walls.

The possibility of not being able to get pregnant again.

 

Choosing the Natural Way

I chose the pills.

It was painful. But I did it.

For two weeks, my body released so much.

Then—it stopped.

I thought I was done.

But two weeks later, I started bleeding again.

Another echo.

Still something inside.

This time, they said surgery was inevitable.

 

The Spiral and the Shift

That was my breaking point.

I spiraled.

For three days straight I was in a state of hysteria—

not just sadness.

Panic. Fear. Anger. Exhaustion.

I had done everything right.

I had done the work.

I was meditating. Manifesting. Trusting.

And it still wasn’t enough.

But after those three days… something cleared.

I shifted back into intention.

 

Mirroring Across Continents

We scheduled the surgery for the end of June.

I began meditating daily again—with laser focus.

Not just to avoid surgery.

But specifically: Do not touch my uterus wall.

I visualized it.

I built a symbol with ChatGPT to anchor into.

I bled again. Passed more clots.

I knew something was moving.

Vincent went to a Joe retreat in Cancun.

The night before his first Coherence Healing, he dreamed about me—and saw the number 777.

He never dreams like that.

It stood out.

While he was in the healing, I was walking in a city in Germany.

I turned a corner… and saw a billboard: 777.

I sent him the photo.

Five minutes later, I started bleeding again.

Clots. Pain. More release.

That continued for two days.

 

The Final Echo

When we finally did another echo, the uterus wall looked clean.

There was still something inside, floating—but not attached.

They still recommended surgery.

They said it was too dangerous to wait any longer.

 

The Letting Go

The night before the procedure, I received a Coherence Healing—my first as a healee.

During the meditation, I realized the truth:

I was the one holding on.

And in that moment…

I let go.

 

The Surgery

July 2nd, I went in.

I woke up from surgery… and felt nothing.

No pain. No swelling. No discomfort.

The doctors came in.

They told me:

There were a few small pieces floating inside.

That’s what they removed.

They didn’t touch the uterus wall.

There was no scraping.

No damage.

No trauma.

From the worst-case scenario…

to the best-case outcome.

In one week.

 

The After

I’m writing this now, just days later.

And I feel better than I have in months.

No bleeding. No pain. No bloating. No exhaustion.

I feel clear.

And I’m left with this truth:

We meditated to avoid surgery—

and maybe, in the end, the surgery was still needed.

But what I do believe is this:

It was the work we did beforehand—

the intention, the healing, the trust—

that made sure they didn’t have to touch what I most wanted to protect.

 

A Soul Who Chose Love

Vittoria came in love.

She left in love.

And she’ll return when it’s time.

This experience changed me.

Not because of what happened…

But because of how I walked through it.

 

A Closing Note

If you’ve experienced something like this—

a goodbye that came too soon,

a vision that didn’t become reality,

a moment that broke you open—

Please know: you’re not alone.

There’s peace after the storm.

And sometimes, the goodbye isn’t the end.

It’s just… a promise delayed.

🕊️