There’s something about the thought of little tiny needles being placed all over my body that scares the hell out of me. Frankly, I have to practically be sedated when my blood is drawn (and there are always a lot of tears shed) and I’m never excited to get shots. For the sake of overcoming infertility, however, I am trying acupuncture. It’s come highly recommended from friends of friends of friends who have also struggled with infertility. There are actually studies out there that show that acupuncture increases the likelihood of becoming pregnant when undergoing fertility treatments. The internet really IS amazing. So, as month 4 of Clomid was unsuccessful, and we have only a couple of months left on Clomid, I’m turning to holistic medicine for help.
In conjunction with the acupuncture, I’m also trying maya abdominal massage. I fear this slightly less than the little needles all over my body. Apparently, the maya abdominal massage is the massage of the pelvic region, something that also does not sound that fun since the Clomid makes every place around my ovaries tender and swollen. The thought of someone massaging that area makes me squirm in my chair. Filling out the form for the maya abdominal massage was similar to that you would fill out at the doctor’s office – very comprehensive, to say the least.
In my mind I had to be in the mental spot I am now before I turned to holistic medicine. I wanted to truly be at peace with the process we are going through, rather than angry and overwhelmingly sad. What’s the point of trying techniques that are meant for cleansing and relaxation if I just went back to being Angry Anna? There were just a few tears shed this month over the unsuccessfulness of month 4, but the acceptance of it all largely overshadowed any sadness. I recently promised a good friend in an e-mail that it’s not that I’m giving up on hoping to get pregnant, but more just feel like my heart is being prepared for the fact that it might not happen, or at least not anytime soon. It’s hard to say whether it’s my attempt to protect myself and my feelings, or whether it’s God’s way of preparing me. Maybe it’s a little of both.
As I begin taking my little white Clomid pills this month, I am also trying to emotionally prepare for the little needles all over my body and the massaging of my ovaries. This is one Living in Limbo moment that I don’t mind being stretched out just a little longer.