The past week has been full of bleah. That needs to change. I am tired of bleah and all of its friends – tears, sleeplessness, sadness, impossible what-ifs, remorse, regret, grief, heartache, stomachache, menstrual cramps, more tears. To all of you: Shoo!!
The failed IVF with its bleak chemical pregnancy outcome tops our lost babies list at 6. This is not a list to which anyone aspires. I am sorry for all of us that make lists like this – lists of lost babies, lists of negative pregnancy tests after trying so hard. It is not right.
I no longer believe we will have another healthy child. I have lost my hope. I cannot find my faith. Four losses in the past year alone – it is too much. Notwithstanding everything that has happened, the one thing on which the LP and I agree at this point is that we are not ready to give up. Yet, for me, the past year and its growing list of lost babies has left a wide, gaping hole in my heart into which fear, doubt, dread, and anxiety take turns pouring. To all of you: Shoo!!
My acupuncturist this week agreed with me when I said that so long as I feel we will fail, we will not succeed. I cannot try to conceive so long as I have no (or very little and no genuine) hope left, so long as I believe Western Medicine’s mantra that my eggs are no good, I am too old, there is no other explanation and very little chance unless I choose donor eggs (which I would, but the LP will not, so that’s off the table). Of this, I am certain.
The acupuncturist then asked what I might do next. I said I have been thinking of calling the Clinical Hypnotherapist with whom I worked when I was pregnant with Mandy, the baby we lost last September. My anxiety was at an all-time high after we saw baby’s heart beating but in my gut (or in the Python’s belly?), something was wrong. I sought help from a few professionals (EFT among them), but the hypnotherapy was the most comforting and seemed the best fit for me. My acupuncturist thought this was a good idea.
I did, too, but it took me a couple of days to muster the courage to call. Courage is required because I had to voice what has happened since I last saw her. Something like: “I lost the baby in whom you were helping me try to have faith and since then more bad stuff has happened. We can talk about that when we meet if you like. Now I’m afraid I may be blocked and need help unblocking myself so I can believe again that I am fertile beneath that elusive secondary infertility diagnosis and beneath that recurrent pregnancy loss diagnosis.”
Deep down, I want to believe we will have another healthy child. I have to believe this, or there is no real point in trying. This may not be everyone’s experience, but my experience tells me that this is my truth.
I called. She was so sorry I lost Mandy. She made time for me next Monday. I have an appointment. She booked me for two hours instead of the usual 90 minutes, gently saying we might need some time when we work with blocks and she wants to make sure she can take care of me (or help me take care of myself) properly. I appreciate that. I am scared and looking forward to that appointment at the same time.
These are my baby steps of the past week. I don’t know what the future may hold. None of us do. We can dream. And then we can try to help ready our cells, our minds, our bodies, our mind-body connection and our behaviours to welcome the reality we hope will one day unfold. And then, once we have set our intentions and done what we can – when we are feeling enlightened, grounded and safe – we let go.
I am not there. But I have taken some baby steps and I am grateful for doing so. Thank you, Me. One step at a time.