Fresh Blood, TMI and the Paranormal

Finally.  The Period that doesn’t end a sentence has arrived.  It’s been kicking around a couple of days now, actually.    And it’s making me happy for a couple of reasons.

Spoiler alert:  Too much information headed your way.  Feel free to skip down to the Paranormal part near the end if you’re a bit of  a princess or just not into the blood and lady bits discussion (I can’t imagine men reading this but I’d include most if not all of you among those who should follow this invitation).  Don’t worry, I’ll capitalize the paranormal.  You won’t miss it.

First, the Period beat expecations.  Last week I got a call from the pregnancy loss program that’s been tracking my “progress” since I underwent surgery to clean out the lady bits after we had our 5th pregnancy loss in September.  The nurse (a vintage gal like me, perhaps even older and completely fabulous) said not to expect “a normal period.”  She said the bleeding would not be like usual this time, that it was likely to be dark, brown, sludgy.  In short, she said it would evidence my body completing its task of further shedding the lining of my uterus from the lost little lovebug.

Not so!  When I say fresh blood, I mean it.  No sludgy brown goo here!

Second, more than two years of TCM (Traditional Chinese Medicine) and acupuncture treatment have taught me something: fresh blood (and plenty of it) is a good thing.  It means the vintage equipment has been and is working as it should.  This isn’t my body shedding an old lining, but one that it created in the last few weeks, while I waited (impatiently) for the ol’ red (or sludgy brown) gal to show up and party.

Why do I care if the blood is fresh and plentiful or that the lining it’s helping me shed is new?  Because I am desperate for straws at which to grab?  Well, yes.  But also because one of the things that can (and often does) happen after a missed miscarriage or MMC (meaning baby dies without you knowing it with certainty until an ultrasound tells you and the medical people so) that is resolved by surgical means (D&C, D&E) is a thinning of the uterine lining.

Why does that matter if we were not baby-making this past cycle anyway?  Because if my body recovered from the D&C and made a thick enough lining for me to be having what by all accounts (okay, by my solo account) appears to be a “normal period”, then my body has not been impaired in its ability to make a nice, thick, cushiony little home for any embryo that might have tried to embed itself in there.   In theory, if it can work  right after the MMC and D&C, it should be able to work in the coming weeks, when I’m (hopefully) hopped up on hormone therapy (isn’t that an oxymoronic expression?) and having multiple little embryos transferred back into my little batcave.

A girl can dream.

All you readers who wanted to skip straight to the paranormal?  Tune back in here.  PARANORMAL coming right up.

Remember my post about Walter Makichen’s book, Spirit Babies?  I loved the book but wasn’t sure I really knew what to do or if it would work, me talking to the spirit baby or babies that may have visited the LP and I but haven’t come home with us yet.  So I tried a “guardian angel” meditation today.  The idea is to quiet your mind, burst a big green bubble of energy with your breath and communicate with the guardian angel of the spirit baby you hope joins you in the physical realm at some point.  Easy-peasy, right?

Not quite.  It’s bloody hard to quiet this vintage gal’s busy monkey mind.  I’ve got the grocery list, the chore list, the Christmas gift list and the files-I-have-to-work-on-right-now list jockeying for position.  I’ve got the “I’m tired and could be going back to sleep right now” alter ego rearing its mischevious little head.  This meditation stuff is hard work!  I spend 10 minutes trying to do the prescribed 5 minutes of chanting with a quiet mind.  Then I stop.

I ask my question:  Is there anything else I or we need to do for our spirit baby to come back?


I chant some more.  I stop.  I ask again.  I listen.  Fear creeps in and I think maybe I should have started with the more obvious question – is the spirit baby ever going to come back to us?  But I push the fear and that question out of the monkey mind.

Then I feel it.  Something is there with me.  My eyes are closed so I can’t see it (I’m not sophisticated or imaginative enough to “see” it in my “mind’s eye”, whatever that really is).  But I can feel it.  Involuntarily, I blurt out “oh, you are here with me.”  I am grateful, but too stunned to say that.  I hope the guardian angel knows this. (If that is, in fact, who I’ve summoned. Of course, I want to believe it is because the other possibilities are just too  freaky for this novice’s liking).

I ask my question.  There is no immediate answer.  In fact, there is no “answer”.  Nothing I could say I heard, felt, saw, smelled, tasted.  But after waiting a little longer, I lied down thinking I’d have to try again another time.  Then I heard myself speak.  It was going to be okay.  Everything would be alright.

Was that my answer?  Being a literalist, I was fleetingly annoyed.  It wasn’t responsive to the question.  But there it was, plain as day.  “Everything would be okay” was what remained in the room after my first attempt to communicate with our spirit baby’s guardian angel.  Everything would be alright.

The message was for me to have faith.  At least that’s what I took from it.

Let’s hope the guardian angel is right.

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