When I walked in I was in pain. I was tight and I was holding tension. I wasn’t in tune with what was happening in the bottom half of my body.
My cycle came yesterday. How fitting, one of the bigger days I’ve been anticipating and holding on for – her two year birthday.
I’ve been sitting with this idea that it should somehow be perfectly, exactly, wonderfully 28 days long. I have been holding on to that thought for a long time. The reality that it might be 50 to 60 days just doesn’t always seem like something I can sink myself into. I’ve been trying for so long to morph my body into this perfect mold of what a cycle should look like and feel like. And I’ve done the reading of what it should like and feel like. And what it looks like when your hormones are off balance. So does it mean my hormones are out of whack if it’s not precisely 28 days? Does it mean I shouldn’t have eaten that extra piece of sugar filled caramel that I ate for my last seasonal mama dinner because it could mess with my spleen? Does it mean I shouldn’t have had that handful of crackers I had on Monday night while I was setting up a dollhouse for her birthday because they aren’t in line with my vata constitution?
I actually ask myself those questions sometimes. And then I remember it’s me I’m talking to. The one who is all about balance, and forgiveness and doing what feels right, not what my head or someone else thinks I should be doing. The one who’s got a cabinet full of tinctures and herbs and salves and teas to fix and heal and balance. Sometimes it just IS the way it IS for it’s own set of reasons, that we can’t know about right now. I have to believe that sometimes we aren’t meant to have the perfect answer.
My number one fear right now is that I won’t be able to conceive again. I know that might sound strange to some of you who’ve been here for a while. I’ve done it before right? So why would I have that fear? When someone looks you in the eyes and you can just feel what they’re going to say ( “it’s going to be really hard for you to get pregnant, if not impossible” ) you don’t easily forget it. It stays with you. Even through conception. Even through pregnancy. Even after you’ve give birth. Even after you’ve celebrated their second birthday.
This isn’t about another baby. And it’s not about the one I have sleeping soundly beside me with a bruised nose and a swollen upper lip from an epic birthday bail on a scooter. It’s about sitting with what makes us feel scared, and uncomfortable. It’s about connecting with the primal side of us that just wants to conceive. It’s about letting go of what we think we need in order to be us. Because we morph and change just like our bodies do. Our uterus literally grows and shrinks to accommodate for a growing baby. Our uterine lining literally sheds itself each time we have our cycle so it can prepare for next months potential conception. Our breasts change shape and size as we build and create colostrum and milk to support our babies. Our hips expand and contract in order to help ourselves give birth in a more optimal position. Our bodies are so in tune with what needs to happen that we don’t even have to tell them. They just do it on their own time, in their own way.
And sometimes, these processes get jumbled, and they don’t work for so many reasons. Because of prolonged exposure to xenohormones, because we’ve been on birth control for too long, and we’ve been holding tension and stress for years. Sometimes we’re able to figure out the puzzles and sometimes I think we should take a break from finding out exactly why. Instead of shaming ourselves, or holding onto anger, let’s be open about what we’re feeling, about how scared we are, about how we need help.
When I walked in I was in pain. I was tight and I was holding tension. I wasn’t in tune with what was happening in the bottom half of my body. I told her what was going on and we talked for 45 minutes. She asked how I was feeling, how I was sleeping, how my sex life was, if I felt ready and if I wanted to have another baby, we talked about how and where I hold tension. I lay face down on the table and she started massaging my back. She started moving energy and blood and helping to unblock all the points that were stagnant. She moved the pain, she worked with the pain and when I flipped over and lay on my back, I felt relief. I felt calm and open. She started at my diaphragm and moved down towards my belly button, she pushed into my spleen and liver and lastly my pelvic bowl. She encouraged the blood to flow and to move and she encouraged me along with that process to move and let go of what I have been holding onto. I breathed with her movements and when she finally held her hands over my uterus I felt tears welling up inside. For all the things that I feel selfish for feeling, for wanting to be pregnant again, and for all that I’ve been holding on to. For the knowledge that I want to help other women release and feel supported just like I was in that very moment.
Healing is a powerful thing and it comes in many different forms. Whether it’s with me, or a practitioner of your choice, I encourage you to reach out and get vulnerable. To open yourself up to what is hard to sit with. To talk about what you’re ready to let go of and what you’re ready to cultivate. By reconnecting to that, we are reconnecting to the power of our natural rhythms, the way in which we first came and existed here. If you can, take yourself outside in the next few days, get barefoot if the weather allows it and ground your feet into the earth. Feel the blood flow through your body, feel the openness of your pelvic bowl, feel the expansion between your breast bone, tilt your head up to the sky and take in a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Speak out loud. Share what comes up and ask for help. The universe and all that comes with it is listening to your fears, frustrations, worries and dreams. You’re allowed to cultivate the good stuff, you just have to let yourself.