When I was diagnosed with infertility I was just So. Very. Sad. There was a sixth sense in me that had always felt like pregnancy was going to be hard. I am not sure why exactly.
Fast Forward… I remember vividly as I sat in an ultrasound room, and was told that my left ovary was the size of a lemon. I could see it right there in front of me, “oh yeah… that can’t be good” I said to myself. The issues didn’t exactly stop there. I was 37, and technically AMA, Advanced Maternal Age, What the hell does that mean? I mean seriously who tells a woman that she is old at 37? Well… apparently her eggs do. F***! And double F***! And then they looked at my FSH (Follicle Stimulating Hormone) number, and it didn’t look so hot either. It was high. Oh yeah, and did I mention that whole autoimmune issue too? Ugh… it started to feel like a never-ending laundry list. I was slowly spinning down the proverbial toilet of hope.
My sixth sense did tell me there was going to be a little boy in my life, and what his name was too. It was the anxious thoughts that muddied the water, and kept me from seeing clearly that he would grace my life.
I had surgery to correct my lemon of an ovary, a bunch of super fun tests, that are not the least bit humiliating or daunting, at all… and then was told, “I don’t think you’re going to get pregnant on your own at your AGE.” Crash! Fetal position! Heaviness!
That diagnosis felt so heavy, it’s was as if there were weights tethered from my shoulders to the earth, and I couldn’t quite get my spine straight again. The light that usually flowed through me stopped. It stopped somewhere around my heart, maybe even around my diaphragm where my center of strength and will lie. These weights were so heavy I didn’t think my spine could get tall or my heart could open up again. Ever…
When I felt the most heavy I turned to yoga to help me heal. I had lost my sense of community, and felt so isolated. It was hard to talk about “it” with even close friends and family, and I certainly couldn’t show them how sad I truly was; that would have broken open my vulnerability to a depth I didn’t think I could allow myself to go. I stepped on my mat, over and over again. There were days I cried through my whole practice, (there is an amazing attribute to yoga, as you move through poses, the physical body releases emotion and trauma), my heart began to open again, slowly. My steps onto my yoga mat opened up my community again. I started to feel support around me. With each step there was forgiveness.
As my heart opened so did the world around me. I had one friend that had just been through fertility treatment, and she knew. She knew the vocabulary, she knew the tests, she knew what I knew and listened and shared, and showed me the way. She became my community, our community. Soon we found out my husband had a friend whom also had needed to go through fertility treatment. They shared, and listened and supported, and too became part of our community. Before long, we had a small group of people that knew exactly what it meant to be “us” in that moment. My spine became straighter again. I felt those around me begin to hold me up. I felt the love and the support, and was relieved to know that someone else knew how I felt.
My own awareness of feeling isolated and ultimately part of a community were what brought me to develop Fertile Grounding Yoga. I knew I was not alone in my experience, and wanted to bring community to women going through exactly what I did. In 2009, I created the Fertile Grounding Yoga 8 week workshop for women seeking pregnancy, so they too could be wrapped in support, knowledge and yoga.
To learn more, feel free to email Jen to schedule your FREE 15 minute phone consult: email@example.com