Wild yogini and the moon

I started bleeding this week. It was such a relief.  I’ve had 20 months without bleeding, well not with menstrual bleeding, what with pregnancy and then the post-natal period.

The pregnancy was fine, it’s pregnancy after all and brings with it its own rhythm.  But the post-natal period is a tough one.  I was bleeding for the first six weeks after the birth and then I was so exhausted that it was a relief not to have to factor in the exhaustion that can accompany the menstrual cycle too.

However, by six months I was ready to get back into the menstrual groove again and while I could feel rumblings, I felt a little rudderless, without my menstrual navigational system kicking in.

So I welcomed the blood that appeared two days before the Pisces full moon and I was excited about the timing. That’s not bad is it, to be two days short of the full moon when you haven’t bled for almost two years? I was certainly delighted.

It was a joy to crouch down and bleed directly onto the Earth again in the light of the full moon in all her glory. I was smiling from ear to ear, it was like I’d properly come home again, and then I did a little dance in the garden.

You might ask yourself what E was doing when the menstrual moon shenanigans were taking place? Watching TV of course, he’s a good one that one, knows what’s going on but chooses to overlook the detail!

Not that there was much ignoring it the next morning when I went skinny dipping at Petit Bot. I’m a wild yogini at heart and what better way to truly get wild then to swim at high tide, without clothes, in the early morning light and bleeding too. I felt properly cleansed by the sea and the moon.

It was good too as my vampire boy at ten months has puncture wounded both my nipples with his sharp teeth and relentless night time feeding so the salt water helped with this healing too.

Now if you’re reading this and getting a little bit judgemental then take that as a sign that perhaps you’re meant to be getting into your menstrual moon and naked sea swimming grove too.  Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.

I wish more women would get up close and personal about their menstrual cycles.  There’s nothing dirty about it.  Quite the opposite.  It’s incredibly empowering and enlightening to track your cycle and embrace your bleeding days with whatever helps to connect you deeper to the earth and your womb wisdom.

I’ve written about it before – have a look here if you would like to read more - http://www.beinspiredby.co.uk/blog/2016/9/19/moon-cycles-and-lady-cycles-welcoming-womb-wisdom

I appreciate also that sometimes the arrival of the blood is not something to be celebrated because it means another month without getting pregnant.  I hear you, I’ve been there myself. But actually if you are struggling to get pregnant, then getting up close and personal with your menstrual cycle should be paramount.  Greet it and meet it, it’ll have a message for you.

So that’s me shared, wearing something red, and chilling out on my yoga mat.  I’m hoping to record a yoga video for menstruation soon, because it really changes how I feel to move my body on my mat (not so much but a little) and I’m keen to share this with others as it really supports me during this period (quite literally!).

I also love to prop myself for a yoga nidra, and raise my legs up on the bed.  I also love to sit and watch my breath and see what arises from my womb space.  It’s insightful I can tell you.

So whether you’re a wild yogini moon lady or not, I hope you’re enjoying the waning moon energy, and get to check in to the energy of your cycle too.

Part 27 - Preterm pre-labour rupture of the membranes

One of the few things I had brought with me to the hospital from Herm was my laptop, so after a few hours of restless sleep, I gave up trying and researched all I could on ‘waters breaking early’ instead. 

The baby lies in an amniotic sac of fluid or ‘waters’ and ‘waters breaking’ means that the sac has ruptured or broken. Waters normally break around the time that labour is due but in around 2% of pregnancies they break early. The medical term for this condition is PPROM, which stands for preterm pre-labour rupture of the membranes and means that the waters have broken before the baby has reached full term (37 weeks).

Intrauterine infection is present in around third of women with PPROM but in most cases it happens without any infection being present. The reasons for these cases is unclear, however it has been linked to heavy smoking during pregnancy.

At that time, I didn’t have any signs of infection and I wasn’t a smoker so it was considered just ‘one of those things’. I couldn’t help thinking however that the Goddess of the Moon had a role to play in all this and certainly that role became clearer in the days ahead.

I had thought that once the waters break, the pregnant lady immediately goes into labour but I discovered that this isn’t the case, contrary to the scene depicted in many a film (the recent Bridget Jones is a classic example of this).

When waters break early, the treatment is dependant on the stage of the pregnancy. There is an increased risk of going into labour prematurely and this brings with it the health risks for the baby of early birth, which are obviously greater the younger they are. There’s also the risk that if the pregnant woman doesn’t go into labour that she and the baby are at risk of infection.

The specialists had to balance these two considerations. If the waters had broken because of infection, then there would be an increased risk of the baby getting the infection and delivery may have to be immediate. 

When the waters have broken but there is no infection present, as in my case, then while both of us were still at risk, the immediate risk is lesser and the treatment depends again on the stage of pregnancy.

It was agreed that I would remain in hospital for the initial 24 hours so that I could be monitored for infection and have steroids administered to help the baby’s lungs fully develop.  Furthermore, if I was going to go into early labour then it is more likely to happen in that 24-hour period following the waters breaking.

My body was continuously replacing amniotic fluid to protect the baby, but as the sac was broken it was not retained and was constantly trickling out of me.  It was the strangest sensation and I had to wear pads to collect the fluid, which I needed to change regularly.  The fluid was a clear/pinkish colour and I had to keep checking that this didn’t become greenish or brown, which would indicate infection. I was encouraged to drink lots of water to enable the body to use this to create the amniotic fluid.

I found it funny – the Goddess of the Moon was up to her tricks again.  Earlier on in the pregnancy I had made a real fuss about the due date as the dating scan at 12 weeks had given me an earlier date than the clinic.  I couldn’t understand the reason the medical profession would work from the computer generated date, when I quite clearly knew the exact date of conception because of the clinical manner in which the baby had been conceived.

I was concerned, back then, of intervention at 40 weeks as the specialist I initially saw told me that he wouldn’t want me carrying the baby beyond the 40-week period.  Thus I had been very keen that the medical profession use the date given to me by the clinic as this would ‘buy’ me an extra four days of pregnancy before any talk of intervention.

Now however, the earlier due date was working in my favour because it meant that I reached the ‘safe’ 34 weeks four days earlier than if we had used the due date given to me by the clinic. Thus when Monday arrived, I’d reached 34 weeks per the dating scan and I was administered the final steroid. I could almost hear the midwives sighing with relief that we’d managed to get to that date without me going into labour.

Over the course of that initial 24-hour period in hospital, I saw three different specialists and they all agreed that I should be allowed to go home and continue life as normal, except no baths, no sex and no teaching yoga.  I was to return to the ward every other day for monitoring and to check for any signs of infection by continuing to regularly take my temperature and check my discharge. 

The intention was to keep the baby in utero for as long as possible, but no longer than 37 weeks when the baby is considered full term.  At that point I would need to have a Caesarean delivery as the baby was breech and without the amniotic fluid, there was no way it could turn now. This was far from ideal as I was still adamant that I didn’t want to have a Caesarean section and I was going to do all I could to fight for a vaginal delivery.

I raised the issue with each of the specialists in turn.  My lovely lady specialist was adamant that that wasn’t going to be an option. Another was aware that the Hannah Term Breech Trial had been flawed and that while there were risks with a breech delivery, there were also risks associated with a Caesarean Section and it was a case of seeing what happened.  The other wouldn’t give an opinion either way and left me with some hope that possibly I could convince him of a vaginal breech delivery when we got to decision day.

I spoke to the midwives at length about breech delivery too and enquired whether any of them would be able to facilitate this delivery, but the answer was a resounding ‘no’. There is now a lot of fear surrounding vaginal breech delivery and many midwives are not trained to support such a birth.

It was frustrating and yet I was still so determined. I prayed with increased vigour for a resolution that would find the baby miraculously turning and tried to keep my thinking positive. 

Around this time, I emailed my four University friends and shared with them the recent events and my desperation to avoid another Caesarean Section. One of them had had a planned Caesarean section as her son was also breech and the another one had experienced both an emergency and a planned Caesarean Section. Both were keen to allay my fears and assure me that a Caesarean birth could be both empowering, intimate and beautiful.

While I was still stubbornly resistant to the idea of a Caesarean Section, their comments did get me thinking.  I knew without doubt that my experience of Caesarean Section had not been empowering, intimate or beautiful, yet I began questioning whether that was due to the placenta previa more than the procedure per se.

I was released from hospital that Monday late morning and returned home to find the book I had ordered on the Saturday “The Universe Has Your Back” by Gabrielle Bernstein, had arrived. This book is about relinquishing the need to control our lives, to transmute fear into love, find safety in the face of uncertainty, joy in what might otherwise be pain and to recognise that the Universe has your back. It was certainly well timed.

If there was one thing I needed to be reminded of right now it was that the Universe had my back and that there was a greater plan at work here.  Deep down I already knew this, but I realised that I needed to try to come to terms with the possibility of a Caesarean Section and address all the fears that were attached to this.  I had to see the love, and strengthen my faith in a peaceful outcome, whatever that may mean.

My colleagues thought I was mad returning to work on the Tuesday with my waters broken but the specialists believed that this was the safest option for me as it meant I was sitting for most of the day.  They were all nervous though and there were jokes of a delivery in the office.

I felt fine, albeit that I was constantly leaking amniotic fluid and I couldn’t feel the baby kicking so easily now, so there were moments of minor panic. However, the more I read my new book, the more I started to realise that this was all a lesson in overcoming fear and stepping into a place of love and trust instead. 

I felt this overwhelming need to try and get on top of my workload and finish off loose ends. This feeling increased that evening and I had a fretful night’s sleep as I ran over in my mind all that I needed to do to ensure that my workload was in a position to handover to someone else.

I woke up feeling energised and raring to get on with the day. Firstly, however I needed to get in the sea, as I just felt I needed cleansing and grounding ahead of the day. We all traipsed down to the beach and I remember the intimacy of it and mentioned to E that I didn’t think I would be back again for a while and that we needed to capture this moment just the three of us.

I had to go into the hospital that morning so that my temperature could be checked and for the baby’s heart to be monitored. Basically this means that two flat devices (sensors) are held in place over the baby bump by elastic belts and the baby’s heart beat is recorded on a chart and checked for any abnormalities.

I also had to press a button each time the baby kicked so the midwives could monitor the baby’s movements.  Other than that I got to lie back and read my book, which was constantly reminding me to turn to love and away from fear.

After that I headed into the office and worked as quickly as I could to tie off loose ends.  I remember being so focused and busy that I didn’t even stop to eat anything. I had resigned from my job a few months earlier but a replacement had not yet been found.  So I wrote notes detailing all aspects of my role so that someone could easily come in and pick this up from me if necessary.

By 5pm I was finished and it was a huge weight off my mind. I felt like I could finally relax, although I had this sense that I needed to go to a church and pray. E and Elijah joined me and we tried our local church, St Andrews, where E’s Dad’s ashes are kept but this was strangely closed.  We visited E’s Dad’s grave nonetheless, which felt appropriate in the circumstances.

We then headed to St Martin’s church, as it was the next closest one to us, and it was only when we arrived that I realised why we had been directed here.  Outside the church is a granite standing stone or Menhir dating from 2500 – 1800BC, which is shaped as a female figure and is known as La Gran’mère du Chimquière. New brides place flowers on her head for luck and she is adorned with flowers on May Day.

I couldn’t help feeling that I needed her energy and wisdom in my life now too, so I touched her, said a prayer, gave thanks and asked for her support. We then briefly visited the church and I prayed to Mary for a miracle.  I still wanted the baby to turn from its breech position and I was hoping for Divine intervention!

I felt comforted by our church visitation and returned home feeling that now I could relax as everything was completed. It was perfect timing for a facial appointment I had booked later that evening as a post-retreat treat, an opportunity to finally relax, or so I thought!

Part 26 - Did my waters break or did I just wet myself?

In my infinite wisdom, I decided to run a Yoga and Wellbeing Retreat in the October that I would be 33 weeks pregnant.

I didn’t foresee any issues, I’d taught yoga until 36 weeks during my first pregnancy and while Elijah had been born at 38.5 weeks’ gestation, that was due to a planned Caesarean Section for placenta previa.

Ordinarily, one of my best friend’s, Vicki, helps me on retreat. She’s an amazing yoga adjustor and a compliment to the classes.  However, she had initially planned to be on holiday at the time of the retreat, so I commandeered the services of another local yoga teacher instead.

Nearer to the time Vicki’s plans changed and, initially, I was fairly adamant that I didn’t need her help in addition to the other teacher. However, the weekend prior to the retreat I got a tummy bug that made me feel rotten. I spent a day in bed feeling very sorry for myself and had to ask Vicki to cover my evening yoga class for me.

It was then, lying in bed on that Monday, with the retreat due to start on the Friday, that I had this sense that I needed Vicki to help me on the retreat too. Fortunately, she was keen to do so and with that I felt a sense of relief.  While I had no reason to doubt my ability to teach on the retreat, I was tired, as I had been busy building up to it. 

In my mind I’d decided that once the retreat had finished I would take life more slowly and gently. I should’ve known better - life has a habit of not always turning out as you intend, especially when you invite the Goddess of the Moon into it.

An Aries super full moon was due to peak at 4.23am on the Sunday, the retreat finishing later that morning at 11am. This full moon was meant to be all about ramming through fear, changing what you can change and surrendering to the rest.  It was ideal material for the retreat and provided our focus…face the fear and surrender to it…

On the Friday afternoon, prior to the guests arriving I did my own practice in the beautiful yoga space and felt something shift in my pelvis. The sensation sent me into minor panic because something didn’t feel right, but I didn’t have too much time to reflect on it as the participants were due to arrive. Still I spent that evening a little on edge, desperate to feel the baby kicking, who was having a quiet one, chilling out in my womb instead.

On the Saturday I joined the others for the usual early morning swim in the sea and was heartened that I could feel the baby kicking. I was very aware of the full moon energy building and I spent much of the weekend going on repeatedly about this.

I was especially focused on inviting the students to really tap into their fears and see if they could surrender to these during the weekend. I’m sure I bored them senselessly!

That afternoon I did another practice on my own, a womb based one ahead of the womb based class I was intending to teach that afternoon and I felt something shift again.  I wasn’t quite sure what it was, but later that afternoon when I went for a walk with Vicki, I felt as if the baby had dropped, and I found myself holding my bump, as if to hold the baby in.  It was a strange feeling.

After dinner that evening I played with Elijah, lifting him up and rolling on the ground with him, having lots of fun together before bedtime.  On the way to our room, I bought myself a strawberry quartz bracelet that Athene, one of my jeweller friends was selling. It had been catching my eye all weekend and I decided that now was the time to wear it.

Little did I realise how quickly the energy of this bracelet would get to work. Apparently the energy of strawberry quartz supports one’s emotional body, helping to heal and release negative emotional patterns no longing serving one, bringing one’s emotions into harmony so that one lives one’s life with an appreciation for, and with gratitude to all that life brings.

Back in the room and Elijah asleep I ordered the book, “The Universe has Your Back” by Gabrielle Bernstein, from Amazon.  I had seven weeks until my due date and I wanted the Universe to have my back – or help me turn my breech baby. Either that or I was going to have to face my fear of another Caesarean Section, and learn how to surrender to it.

I went to sleep about 10pm while E was still with friends, merrily drinking their way through a bottle or two of wine in the Mermaid pub on Herm. About 11pm, I awoke feeling something wet in the bed, which felt very strange. I quickly realised the source of the wetness was coming from me! E was in bed by then and I tried not to wake him as I rushed to the toilet.

I initially considered that I’d just wet myself, then I realised that the water was continuing to flow out of me.  I had never experienced waters breaking previously due to the planned Caesarean section with Elijah, so it was all new to me. I woke E and explained what I thought was going on. He didn’t really know what to make of it so I sent a quick text to Anita, my doula, hoping that she was still awake and able to help me.

Fortunately, she saw the message on her way to bed and quickly responded.  She also asked whether perhaps I’d wet myself but when I explained that I still had water coming out of me, she agreed, it seemed my waters had broken.

This was not ideal timing and for a split second I considered that we might just have to see what happened in the morning as I had a yoga retreat to finish - there was still another class to teach in the morning.

However, Anita telephoned and told me in no uncertain terms that I needed to phone the hospital, that probably a lifeboat would be sent to collect me and Ewan. It all sounded a bit serious, I didn’t want all this fuss for no reason, but I also couldn’t deny the fact that my waters had broken – early and with me carrying a breech baby!

Ewan telephoned the maternity ward  and the midwife told us to come into the ward but of course we couldn’t do that, we were stuck in Herm! So there began a rather challenging few hours as arrangements were made to ‘rescue’ us and transport us to the hospital in Guernsey.

Fortunately, my parents were also staying with us on Herm and amazingly they answered their phone and joined us within five minutes. By then I was shaking uncontrollably, not least due to the fear of the unknown but also because of all the fuss and it was almost a relief to continuously leak water, as if to confirm that yes, I did need to get to the hospital.

There was lots of toing and froing telephone conversations with the paramedics and the midwives and we were told to wait until the Herm first aider came to collect us.  This seemed to take quite some time, over an hour or so, and the waiting was a very ‘present moment’ experience as I was in hyper alert mode.

On the positive side, we had time to make arrangements for the rest of the retreat. My parents would now need to stay in our room with Elijah and Vicki would need to teach the class in the morning and close the retreat.  I’d already made notes detailing what I’d wanted to say, to bring it all together, and I now wrote a message to Vicki explaining this and thanking her for covering for me!

Eventually, Mark, the First Aider, arrived on his gator and drove us the short distance to Rosaire steps where we were due to meet the lifeboat. Ordinarily the ‘Flying Christine’, the St Johns Ambulance boat would have collected me but it was deemed too rough for it.

The full moon was due to peak in a few hours and the tide was extremely low. It was also blowing a gale and the lifeboat was having trouble mooring. It didn’t help that this was a loaned lifeboat, the usual one out of service at the time.

Thus we spent an hour or so standing on the quay chatting as we watched the lifeboat crew try to figure out how to reach us.  It was ironic really, I had spotted the lifeboat on the quay alongside the Herm boat when we’d initially left Guernsey a few days earlier, which was unusual, it’s not something I normally noticed.  And now here I was watching it trying to rescue me! It’s funny how these things happen.

What was particularly amusing however, was the fact that the full moon was shining brightly above us. There she was, the Goddess of the Moon in all her glory, shining brightly. I had to laugh because of course I’d been going on and on all weekend about the power of the super full moon and here I was now standing beneath her light as she reached her peak in the early hours of the Sunday morning. I’ll never forget that image of her that night.

The outboard of the inshore dinghy wouldn’t work, so eventually anchored by lines, we were transferred ship to shore in a little rowing boat and helped to climb up onto the life boat. On board was a midwife and two female paramedics, who’d had a tough hour or so bobbing around on board. This was my first time in a life boat and I couldn’t quite comprehend all this fuss just for me. 

The tide was so extremely low that the lifeboat had to go the long way back to Guernsey, and there was a significant swell, which meant that the boat was moving about dramatically at times.  The midwife was keen to get me back to Guernsey as quickly as possible and the crew did their best to facilitate this.

I was seated in the padded and sprung chair, which was a relief as it took some of the pressure off the bumping that the others had to endure.  I’ll never forget that journey though as it did nothing to ease my nerves. The lifeboat was tossed around and I felt decidedly sick by the end of the trip. Poor E wasn’t in a comfy chair and his stomach didn’t like the ride either.  Even his back was sore from the experience.

Back on dry land on Guernsey we were driven in an ambulance to the hospital. It was surreal being on the road in the early hours of the morning as party revellers returned home. I felt a bit of a fraud in an ambulance as I felt fine, other than the fact I had water dripping out of my vagina and wetting my pants and leggings.

At the hospital, my lovely lady specialist happened to be on duty, which was fortunate as we were able to joke about the manner in which my pregnancy was unfolding.  She knew I was keen for a vaginal delivery, and she knew that the baby had turned breech and would need to turn to facilitate this.  And now here I was at 33 weeks with my waters broken.  It wasn’t ideal.

An internal examination confirmed that yes, my waters had indeed broken but that I wasn’t yet in labour. According to my midwifery records, my due date based on the dating scan showed that I was 33 weeks and 6 days pregnant.  This meant that the baby was – in theory at least – only a day away from having fully developed lungs. The specialist was keen therefore that we did all we could to promote this development and keep the baby in utero until at least 34 weeks’ gestation.

I was immediately prescribed steroids, which would be administered to me over the following 24-hour period while I was kept on the ward for observation. I remember the specialist and nurse leaving E and I in the triage room to go and make the necessary arrangements and me bursting into tears and clinging on to him.

I wasn’t ready to have the baby.  I had had it in my mind all pregnancy that I would work hard until my Herm retreat and then calm it down a bit.  I had been looking forward to the calmer period, focusing on my pregnancy and trying to turn the baby, and now here I was with my waters broken. I wasn’t prepared mentally or emotionally.

Furthermore, I wasn’t at all prepared practically.  All the baby stuff was in storage and I hadn’t yet gotten around to sorting it. Clothes needed to be washed and the Moses basket found.  I hadn’t bought any nappies or other stuff required for a small baby, and I certainly hadn’t packed my hospital bag.

However, whether I was ready or not, this was really happening and half an hour later I found myself trying to get comfortable on a hospital bed on the maternity ward, while E walked home. It was all a little surreal and I sobbed quietly to myself as I tried to get some sleep, all the while my mind trying to come to terms with what was happening. 

Ramblings on the energy shifting going on out there

The energy shifted about lunchtime today and has continued to ease all afternoon and into the evening.  I can't tell you the relief.

It's been pretty intense out there since the lunar eclipse and full moon back on Monday 7 August, encouraging us to let go and heal.

The Lionsgate Portal was activated on Tuesday 8 August 2017. This happens when the Sun aligns with the Star, Sirius, which is bigger and brighter than our own sun. It's known as the spiritual sun and is understood to hold knowledge and wisdom from higher vibratory realms.

When the Sun and Sirius are aligned, their energies intensify and Mother Earth receives "light energy" from both of these celestial entities - greater consciousness comes in and this affects our own energy. Essentially two of the greatest lights in the sky have shone on us - hoorah for the healing this potentially provides,

The trouble is, life thereafter may not resonate in the same way.  We've been turned up a notch and the old stuff on the lower vibration that is no longer serving us needs to drop away - or at least it becomes increasingly difficult to ignore the call for change. 

It's been tough. Like you, I've been encouraged to question every aspect of my life and its truth - is it aligned?  In some cases no, and those have had to go, are going, will go. 

The eclipses bring light to the shadows.  It's challenging seeing the shadows come to light. Did I really create my own reality?  Must I really take responsibility for this?  Well yes, it is time.  It's time to drop the victim/martyr role and to take responsibility for how your life unfolds.  All of it. There isn't a place for the blame game if we want to heal the present and indeed the future. 

It's tricky to get your head around but really the future creates the present.  So be clear when you are envisioning this. You can change the past, that's easy, not least with Reiki, but by changing your mind about a few things. It's magic really.

Then there was the solar eclipse and new moon on Monday 21st August, the second new moon in Leo too. This brought in big shifting energy for so many of us who have been left exhausted and wondering what is going on.

Bits of the old have come up again. Uncomfortable edgy energy.  I had a day of acute anxiety from year's ago now, which caught me in my tracks and I sat with it rather than trying to numb it as I may have done previously.  There was nothing to fear, it was just energy, and an "anxiety relief" yoga practice grounding to the Earth was all that was needed.  Well that and some Nadi Shodhana pranayama.

There's been a huge amount of sadness too, and I could feel my heart space tight and heavy. I've cried a lot. The tears just come from nowhere at times. It didn't help that my cat died and my brother returned to Australia; but in many respects they both gifted healing in their respective departures, one to higher realms, the other to the other side of this world.

There are five planets going retrograde during August too.  Going retrograde means that the planet looks like it is going backwards, only its not, it just appears to do so because of the relative positions of the planet and Earth and how they're moving around the sun.

Mercury retrograde is definitely the one I'm feeling.  It complicates communication, or at least can make communication tricky, especially in families.  Furthermore it affects electrical devices (both TV and printer have been playing up) and can make it difficult to move things forward.  It's a shaky time and not one within which to make big decisions or sign contracts.

I've not been able to make any big decisions because I've had no clarity about anything (other than cancelling the Women's Wellness Weekend on Herm as I wasn't feeling it and nor were others). Ive not had any clarity because the eclipses have pulled up my roots so that I can weed them a bit.

It's difficult to have clarity when one is uprooted. However today I felt the shift and the tears have dried. I'm aware that it's now time to re-root those roots that need re-rooting again and let the others go on the compost pile. The clarity is beginning to come through again.  It really is very simple. We need to simplify.  Not just me, but you too.  We all need to start simplifying and remembering our truth.  The Universe is reminding us to slow down and to be patient.

We're all receiving energy updates and upgrades and the Universe it reminding us to slow down and be patient.  I'd wait until Mercury is no longer retrograde (5th September) and the celestial terrain calms a bit before making any leaps. 

I can't tell you the relief it is to know this now.  There have been times this last month when I've been questioning my own mind - I'm not going mad after all, these feelings are valid and real! And the chances are that if you;re reading these words then you're feeling it too.

Good. The world needs lighter people.  But commit.  Don't go "urrmmm arrrrrr", "do I, don't I".  Just commit to whatever is needed to take greater responsibility for your reality and also for the state of this planet.  It means dropping in, even if it gets messy.  Do the inner work, that's the key.  No one else can do it for you and talking about it won't make the change either. 

So look within, breathe in and out, trust, and notice the support from the Universe coming in. 

With love xxx

Part 25 - Trying to turn a breech baby

I had seven weeks to turn my breech baby before the specialist would start talking about Caesarean Section delivery.  It sounded like plenty of time.

I began reading extensively on breech birth and discovered that about 3% of babies present as breech, which was just typical really and summed up my pregnancies.  There was always something that had to be different about them!

Still, most babies who are in the breech position between 32 to 34 weeks turn themselves into a headfirst position by birth. If the baby remains breech at 37 weeks it may be possible for an obstetrician to turn the baby using a technique called external cephalic version. It’s said that just over half of babies are turned this way, albeit not the most comfortable of procedures to go through for the mother.

There were other ways and I was directed to www.spinningbabies.com which has lots of information about breech babies and tips on how to turn them. I was determined that I wasn’t having another Caesarean section so I was keen to try everything I could to attempt to turn my breech baby.

Initially I tried the breech tilt which meant that I lay upside down on an ironing board which had one end resting up against the bed.  I’d come across this concept a few years earlier when I’d read a fictional book about a Canadian midwife employing such tactics to help a baby turn. It had stuck in my mind as an ingenious way to help prevent breech delivery and now here I was doing the same.

If I’m truthful, it wasn’t the most comfortable position to find myself in. Furthermore, I didn’t know how I was going to find the time to lie like that for 20 minutes three times a day, which is the recommended period if you want to stand a chance of it working. And what exactly was I going to do while lying there, it’s certainly not the ideal position for meditating or yoga nidra.

I decided I’d be better off practicing more headstands and shoulder stands in my yoga practice instead. It was the same with the recommended handstand in the swimming pool, I decided I’d just practice more handstands against the wall at home. It was ironic really as I couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t the handstand that had gotten me into this mess in the first place, although I had this feeling it would have happened regardless.

Then there was the moxibustion, which uses tightly rolled sticks of mugwort herb much like a stick of incense.  You light one end of the moxibustion stick and the coal that this creates is held over an acupuncture point on the foot to heat the point and help the baby turn. E thought it was nonsense but I felt that it was worth a try.

So while I lay on the sofa reading a book, E tried to hold the heated stick at the right place on my foot. I have to say that despite being very receptive to this sort of thing, I just wasn’t feeling it.  I mean literally, there wasn’t any shift in the positioning of the baby, and furthermore, I couldn’t be sure that E was positioning the stick properly.

I also tried reflexology, Cranial-sacral work and Bowen therapy. I’m a huge fan of homeopathy so I tapped into this too and took the homeopathic remedy, Pulsatilla. I’d read that if taking this remedy for three days doesn’t turn the baby then it is unlikely the baby will turn. Unfortunately, after three days the baby hadn’t turned.

It was then that I came across this marvellous blog posting written by a lady about her journey to try to turn her breech baby. This lady wrote about how she’d tried all the same techniques that I had tried and that nothing had worked. Then, at the last minute, she’d had a massive emotional melt down and totally let go…and lo and behold right at the last minute the baby turned. 

I really didn’t want to have any medical intervention so this blog posting gave me some hope.  I was getting desperate by this stage and was determined that something had to work, the baby had to turn.  It was probably in recognising my desperation, and being so frustrated that nothing was working that I too had a big emotional meltdown, the tears flooding my yoga mat one morning. 

Still the baby didn’t turn but still there was hope. I was told stories of pregnant ladies being prepped to go to theatre for a Caesarean Section only for the Midwife to double check the baby’s position and find that at the last moment the baby had flipped head down and could be birthed vaginally.

The trouble was, I had this niggling feeling that this baby just wasn’t going to turn.  It seemed very comfortable in its breech position and no amount of manipulation on my part seemed to make any difference.  Furthermore, no amount of shoulder stands, headstands or handstands had any effect either. And with the other techniques, well a little like the homebirth, I was just going through the motions really as E looked on bemused!

I continued my research and discovered that there are a number of physical reasons that one may have a breech baby including the following:

·      Smaller than average baby;

·      In multiple pregnancies one baby may be lying in the breech position;

·      There may not be enough, or too much, amniotic fluid;

·      The placenta may be covering the womb’s entrance (like I had with Elijah).

·      Tightness in the womb or pelvic misalignment, perhaps from carrying a toddler on one’s hip.

I could relate to some of this.  I had started to see a biodynamic cranial sacral therapist as I was having issues with my sacrum and felt that my pelvis was misaligned, due to constantly carrying Elijah on my left hip. However, I also had a feeling that there was more to it than all this and I researched the non-physical reasons for a breech presentation too. These included the following:

·      The mother-to-be harbouring a lot of fear about becoming a mother;

·      The mother-to-be and her mother having unresolved conflict;

·      The mother-to-be not wanting to ‘give up’ carrying her baby.

·      The mother needing to ‘hold’ the baby close to her heart due to fears of birth, parenthood, and/or fear about the world the baby will be born into;

In a similar vein, others believe that the baby can sense when their mothers are stressed or in emotional pain and may move into a breech position so that they can be closer to her heart in order to comfort her – a breech baby may have strong instincts already.

There’s also a belief that breech babies are on a mission in this life time and arrive feet first so that they can firmly plant their feet on the Earth and get going. Others believe they arrive this way so that they can look their Mother in the eye and move through life together, and yet with a strong conviction of their own. Folklore suggests that a breech baby will have healing powers.

I found this all very fascinating as I could relate to some of it. My life was busy and there were times where I was stressed.  I was working very hard on a few projects that I was keen to complete before the baby arrived.  In my mind, I had given myself the deadline of my October Herm Yoga & Wellbeing Retreat when I would be 33 weeks pregnant, to complete everything  After that I intended to slow things down up until the anticipated birth at 40 weeks.

However, sitting with it, I began to consider that perhaps this wasn’t about me, that perhaps it was part of the bigger picture. This is not to say that I didn’t still feel a pressure to turn the baby, but more so that I had a feeling the baby was not going to turn regardless of what I did. Thus I started to read up on breech delivery and was fascinated by what I read.

Beginning in the 1960s, obstetricians gradually shifted the way they delivered breech babies because they preferred the predictability and the presumed greater safety of a Caesarean birth. But not every doctor jumped on the Caesarean Section band wagon immediately; with many continuing to favour vaginal breech births.

That is, until the Hannah Term Breech Trial (“TBT”) published in 2000 brought them to a screeching halt. The TBT followed 2,083 breech babies in 26 countries, randomly assigned to either vaginal or planned Caesarean section delivery. Early data suggested fewer newborn deaths and injuries occurred in the Caesarean section group. The impact of the study was incredible – within months’ breech Caesarean Sections increased from 50% to 80% and by 2006, it was at 90%. Then it was discovered that the study was flawed.

In fact, critics began poking holes in the TBT immediately after its publication. For example, some poor outcomes attributed to vaginal delivery occurred in birth centres that used substandard techniques or unskilled birth attendants. Some babies had genetic defects or were premature.

In short, most weren’t injured because they were delivered vaginally, but because of other factors. Further study indicated that most of the babies recovered fully from their birth injuries regardless of delivery method, and researchers also hadn’t factored in the increased health risks resulting from Caesarean sections.

It was felt that the results should have supported informed decision-making, but instead, hospitals reacted by taking the choice away from women. Another unfortunate result was that medical schools stopped teaching vaginal breech delivery skills to an entire generation of new doctors and midwives. This sadly is the current reality we face – that the medical profession lack both the knowledge and skill to deliver a breech baby naturally.

I watched a number of videos on the internet of breech babies being born vaginally and there was something rather special and beautiful about these.  Still when I mentioned to people that I would like to have a go at a vaginal breech delivery, I was surprised by their reaction – there was so much fear!  

I was told that the birth would be extremely painful and that I would be putting my baby’s health at risk.  I was made to feel that I was silly for even suggesting the idea. It made me laugh because the alternative of a Caesarean Section is not exactly a walk in the park either – it’s just easier for the medical profession to control. 

I spoke to the Head of Midwifery about the possibility of a vaginal breech delivery and she said that even if a specialist agreed to go ahead with the notion, it wouldn't be a birth I would want for my baby (or for me) due to the medicalised nature of it. It would involve constant monitoring and doubtlessly intervention whether it was needed or not.

It made me feel sad that there is so much fear about breech delivery. My cousin was a breech baby and born vaginally, my Aunt living to tell the tale. And clearly breech babies are still being born vaginally, certainly in the home environment by those midwives skilled in this form of delivery.  I was heartened to read that there are some murmurs of trying to normalise breech delivery again.

This gave me a little hope and I certainly wasn’t prepared to give up on the idea.  I played around with the possibility of employing the skills of an independent midwife, but something held me back from taking this forward.  I was very much of the mind-set that I would just wait and see what happened nearer the time, I just had a feeling that it would all become clearer. Ha, little could I have imagined!

Part 24 - High Risk Pregnancy?

The sickness arrived earlier, at five weeks this time and I felt awful. It was all consuming and particularly challenging with a toddler in tow. There just wasn’t the opportunity to rest as there had been during my first pregnancy and I struggled with this.

At seven weeks’ gestation I bled. I felt pretty certain that I was meant to have this baby, but this experience certainly tested my faith. I could still feel the energy of the baby within me and my pendulum was also suggesting that all was well, but the blood made me think otherwise.

It was a nervous hour as we waited to see the doctor, who confirmed that while my cervix was closed, there was still a high chance of miscarriage. She referred me on to the specialist who managed to see me the next day.

We were due a seven-week early pregnancy scan anyway, and it was a relief to see the heart beating on the screen; our growing embryo was alive and well and my faith was strengthened. It was also a reminder that we are all heart. It’s a profound moment when you get to see this in play; that heart and love is all there is really.

However, I did have a clot in my womb that was significantly larger than the growing embryo so I was placed on bed rest for a week.  This was a blessing of sorts as it provided me with an opportunity to rest, and helped ease me through this stage of the sickness as I was able to sleep and chill out.   

After the week on bed rest, life returned to normal, well as much as it can when you feel dreadfully sick, and over time the clot was re-absorbed by my body.  This whole episode did remind me of the need to take it slowly, and this certainly impacted on my yoga practice.

When I was pregnant with Elijah I continued with my active Vinyasa practice, making little allowance for the pregnancy. Yet now I felt very differently about the style of yoga and relished taking the practice gently. I adopted a much more feminine approach to my practice and was inspired greatly by the teachings of Uma Dinsmore-Tuli. I also made sure to incorporate Yoga Nidra and resting when I could to support the pregnancy.

The energy of this baby felt different than it had done with Elijah, which I found fascinating. S/he was less active, which concerned me at times, and encouraged me to dig deep and trust that all would be well. S/he felt much more grounded though and I had a sense that this was my healing baby.

I considered that perhaps this time I would be able to home birth and even though E was a little uncertain, I engaged the services of my doula, Anita, again. I wanted to have the spiritual birth experience that I hadn’t been able to have with Elijah and I wanted to do all I could to avoid having another Caesarean Section.

I was challenged therefore when I was scored by my midwife as being ‘high risk’.

“High risk, what on earth for?” I demanded to know.

“Well you’re over 40 years old, you’ve had a previous Caesarean Section and you’ve had IVF”, my midwife explained.

“But that’s ridiculous”, I tried to explain, “I’m fit and healthy and keen to homebirth”.

“Oh you won’t be able to do that”, she told me, “you’ll be under specialist care now”.

And with that the frustration began to set in again.

It didn’t help that when I saw the specialist for my initial consultation he was surprised I didn’t want a repeat Caesarean Section.

“Absolutely not”, I tried to tell him, “I had a bad experience last time and I certainly don’t want to repeat that again”.

With that he told me that my risk factors meant that there was absolutely no way that I could have a home birth. I was also not going to be allowed to go beyond 40 weeks without intervention and a Caesarean Section would likely become another reality.

I was incensed.  The specialist was new to the Island and seemed super cautious and I didn’t feel that he was listening to me.  E had come with me to the appointment and while he was pleased to hear that a homebirth was not going to be an option, he too felt that me being deemed ‘high risk’ was ridiculous.

There was another aspect to the appointment that also challenged me.  I knew with certainty the date of conception, as the clinic had confirmed this to me, but the 12-week dating scan had given me an estimated due date three days earlier than the ‘real’ one.  I have always been a little dubious of the due date thing, simply because babies arrive when they are ready, not the date that a machine has given to them based on the 12-week scan.

I was aware that the due date could play a significant role in one’s experience of late pregnancy and birth.  And now with the specialist talking about not letting me go beyond 40 weeks, those three days of discrepancy in due date became increasingly important to me.  I didn’t want the computer generated earlier due date, I wanted the due date given to me by the clinic, which was 2 December, just after E’s 50th birthday.

At the second appointment I got angry.  The specialist was again talking about the possibility of a Caesarean Section being the safest option for delivery and I was trying to say to him that I absolutely didn’t want a Caesarean Section, nor did I want intervention at 40 weeks which may inevitably lead to a Caesarean Section, and I absolutely didn’t want continuous monitoring of the baby either.

He was trying to stress the fact to me that the health of the baby was the most important thing to consider in terms of delivery.  I didn’t disagree with him but I did mention that my emotional and mental needs were important too, as I tried to explain how awful I had felt following Elijah’s birth and how I didn’t want to feel like that again.

He then asked me how I felt he should prioritise the health of the baby with my mental and emotional needs, which incensed me further.  Of course he needed to consider the health of the baby, that went without saying, but asking me to prioritise this was ridiculous, in my eyes it didn’t have to be so black and white.

E was also tested by this. He appreciated my need for a vaginal delivery and didn’t understand why that was going to be so difficult to achieve. I was fit and healthy, so in his eyes my age as a risk factor seemed crazy. He challenged the specialist on this but the specialist wasn’t listening. 

I was high risk and that was that. This meant growth scans throughout my pregnancy and a clinical birth. By the end of the appointment I felt disempowered, angry and frustrated. I didn’t want a Caesarean Section and I didn’t want the baby arriving earlier than it chose to arrive. Frankly I didn’t want any of this. I just wanted an empowering, joyful and spiritually enlightening homebirth.

It was a huge insight for me into how easily manipulated women are during pregnancy and how easily you can drop into a place of fear. I’d read extensively about birthing without fear and yet here I was, now full of fear. The specialist had tapped into my vulnerability and made me feel that my body was incapable of growing or birthing the baby without medical assistance.

I also felt that to choose an alternative birthing route would make me an incredibly irresponsible mother putting my baby and my life at risk. It didn’t help that E had also been affected by the fear pervading our specialist appointments and so I had the pressure of that too. While I desperately wanted to tap into and trust my body wisdom, the pressure to get it ‘right’ was now huge, trying for the birth of my choice seemed a massive undertaking.

I decided I couldn’t see the specialist again. His approach to my pregnancy was detrimentally affecting my experience of the pregnancy and making me feel sad and vulnerable. I cancelled my next couple of appointments with him and yet felt wayward even doing this, what if I did end up needing specialist care after all? I just wanted it all to go away and considered that my best option was birthing in a field on my own and seeing what happened!

My doula was aware how disempowered I felt from my specialist appointments and encouraged me to seek a resolution to it. As such I ended up contacting the Consultant Midwife here in Guernsey, and explained to her my concerns about the specialist led care and also the fact I was keen to birth at home if I could. 

She was wonderful, a true angel. She listened to me, which is something the specialist wasn’t doing, and this in itself was hugely empowering.  She also took action and arranged for me to see a specialist who would be more compassionate to my needs. She also confirmed that the midwife team would support me in my quest for a home birth.

I could have cried with the relief.  All of a sudden I felt liberated and supported and with that I felt that I could enjoy my pregnancy again.

After the morning sickness eased at 16 weeks, I really enjoyed this second pregnancy.  I’ve written about it before but morning sickness is so debilitating and it was a relief when it ended. Of course it was tiring, especially as Elijah was still waking at least once a night and wanted to be carried all the time, but it was a highlight in my life; I felt truly blessed.

I continued reading extensively on vaginal birth after Caesarean Section and homebirth.  I felt comfortable with my decision to try for a homebirth and decided that I would delay that conversation with my specialist for as long as possible. In many respects I should have opted not to see the specialist, but when you’re in the system it is very difficult to get yourself out of it without being made to feel irresponsible.

I finally saw the new specialist, who was female, and much more appreciative of my need to try for a vaginal birth, but was adamant that I shouldn’t be considering a home birth. She stressed the risk factors in doing both, which was frustrating because I felt the fear rearing its ugly head and had to be mindful of allowing the medical perspective to disempower me again.

It’s really incredible how we have managed to populate the world as we have when birth is considered so dangerous.  I appreciate there are risks.  The initial specialist had been keen to highlight this to me, when he quoted birthing vaginally in Afghanistan as being a very different experience from birthing vaginally in Guernsey. Women and babies regularly die from childbirth in Afghanistan, yet they don’t here, and we have the medical world to thank for that. And I guess we do really.  But all the same…

Still, there was still a high chance that despite all my efforts for a homebirth, this wasn’t going to happen because rather annoyingly here at 29 weeks, my baby was lying breech. I had already noticed this. I’d stupidly demonstrated a handstand in class the week earlier and whether that had been the reason I’ll never know, but it certainly hadn’t helped.

I was annoyed at myself for jeopardising the position of the baby. Elijah had been breech but due to the placenta previa it hadn’t really mattered so I had continued inverting during my yoga practice. But this time, I had been practicing yoga incredibly gently to ensure that this baby didn’t end up breech too.

Needless to say that the specialist was keen to point out to me (as it was her job to do) that if the baby remained breech at 36 weeks then we would need to discuss options for delivery. Sadly, breech babies are no longer allowed to be birthed vaginally and so a Caesarean Section would be the only option. Where was my luck?! I now had another hurdle to overcome and with that I took myself off to read all I could on breech babies and turning them around.

Part 23 - Another Frozen Embryo Cycle

I can’t tell you what a difference a few months made in aligning me fully to the IVF process. It was a huge lesson for me. There is a timing for everything and you cannot rush these things. You absolutely cannot afford to have any resistance to the treatment either.

I was absolutely not ready in October. I was not aligned in any way and there was a good deal of underlying resistance. I was doing what I thought I should do, rather than what I felt I should do. I was fearful of time rushing away and unfulfilled dreams. And because of this, it lacked grounding, there was no connection to the Universe, I was misreading signs and full of fear rather than excitement.

Life was very different now. It was February 2016 and I felt truly committed to fulfilling my New Year’s intention of bringing new life into the world. I was ready. I was excited. The timing felt right, the energy of the New Year for me is all about new beginnings and with the Spring energy of new life approaching, I was keen to tap into it. Everything has a resonance to it, and for me this time of year and IVF had a meaning to it.

This time we decided that we wouldn’t tell anyone, not even our parents, so that it could be our own special journey, E and I. This made a huge difference as it gave the experience more intimacy. I also made it known that I was retreating a little from the world, to focus on a creative writing project, but of course there were two creative projects going on and the significance of this – at least energetically, emotionally and spiritually - was crucial for me. It was a time to create.

The frozen embryo cycle was identical to that we had followed in October. The only difference was the fact we paid an additional amount for embryo glue, which is meant to help the embryo implant in the uterus.

In terms of drugs, here we were again; day nineteen of my cycle on 8 February 2016 and I started a seven-day course of the oral Provera so that my cycle could be controlled once more. Two days later the injecting began. Twelve days after that I had a blood test to determine that my body was responding to the drugs positively. Six days after that and we started the GEEP cycle, which involved the Progynova tablets.

I recognised the need to retreat from the world and immerse myself in the healing power of nature during the beginning of treatment, and to give it the attention it deserved. Thus the three of us retreated to the Island of Herm together for four days in the depths of winter and turned off the WIFI.  We spent our days walking around the Island immersed in the beauty of nature in the winter time, often not seeing another person.

We swam in the freezing cold sea, which I’ve always found to be both physically invigorating and so good for the soul. I also practised yoga on my own, enjoying the views of the sea from my yoga space in the cosy cottage we had rented, and resting with my legs up the wall, channelling Reiki onto my womb space.

It was a special time and ensured that we were truly in the intimate IVF zone for the rest of the treatment. It was now just a matter of continuing with this and as I did so, my connection to the Divine deepened and my faith was restored – Amen.

So by the time we got to embryo transfer I was getting really excited. It was due to happen a few days after my March Yoga and Wellbeing retreat on Herm and that whole weekend just felt perfect in terms of preparing me. Not least the energy of Herm and immersing oneself in that beautiful yogic energy with other like minded souls but more swimming in the sea and the connection to nature that the weekend provided.

It seemed that every time we left our room there was a robin in the tree outside the hotel. Robins are angels in disguise and also serve as validation that life is about to change. It was most certainly a sign and I took great comfort in this. So too on the way to the airport a few days later, when an owl flew right in front of the car at dusk. It was such a random occurrence that even E was blown away by the coincidence.

There is always the risk that the embryo – or in this case the six day old blastocyst which had been frozen for three years now – may not survive the thawing process and that the seven weeks of medication have been in vain. But fortunately for us this was not the case, the blastocyst survived and I felt that it had been waiting the whole time patiently for us.

We had left Elijah with my parents in Guernsey, and this was the first time we had ever been away without him. It felt strange but appropriate too, a little more intimate, ideal given that we were intending to ‘conceive’ new life.  We stayed in the same hotel we had stayed in for the initial treatment three years earlier, which felt appropriate, ending the journey (or so we hoped) where it had begun.

The next morning, I was able to practice some yoga to help centre myself before walking around the beautiful grounds of the hotel together.  Strangely it was another clear wintery morning, as it had been the previous time we had stayed, and I practiced some more yoga in the deer circle before hugging the very old cedar tree and saying my prayers to the ethereal beings. 

At the clinic it was far less clinical than it had been in October.  The nurse was known to us and the consultant was friendly and personable and this time we got to see the star of the blastocyst going into my womb, hoorah. When we left, we said goodbye to the consultant and the nurse and I was fairly confident we wouldn’t need to return to the clinic again.

I felt the energy of the blastocyst in my tummy immediately; it was strong and vibrant, expansive too, full of the potential of new life. I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to connect to the energy of life from conception like this and it gave me immense comfort during my pregnancy, but especially in those earlier days.

However even though I could feel this energy and had faith in a positive outcome, I was still challenged by the 12-day waiting period to take the test. I would sit at the beginning of my yoga practice and notice where I was feeing sensation in my body and inevitably it was in my stomach and as I dropped my awareness deeper into it, I recognised it as fear.

Fear really had no reason to be there, it was my mind playing tricks, my heart had a sense that all was well, and I could actually feel the blastocyst taking root inside me! So I sat with the awareness deep in my tummy, being curious to see what happened and inevitably there would be a shift and the anxiety would ease.

It was ridiculous really, because while there was the fear and anxiety there was also this knowing that all would be well and the Universe was certainly leaving me plenty of signs to validate this.   Three days before the test someone at work made an offhand comment about me being the next lady in the office to get pregnant; ha ha, if only they knew.

The next day, on a training course this time, we were given a pink USB stick that one of the guys mentioned looked like a pregnancy testing stick. He accidentally dropped it on the floor and it landed just by me so he reached down to pick it up and said to me, “oh it says you’re pregnant Emma”.  I chuckled to myself because little did he know that in two day’s time I would be taking a test that would hopefully tell me this!

There were other signs too – the child related cards flew out of my pack of angel cards and robins and feathers were everywhere I looked so I knew I was surrounded by the angels. This is not to say that there’s anything special about me, just that I had aligned myself on that level and was feeling the support of the Universe, which really helped to keep my spirit high.

It was 5am on testing day when I took the test, which fortunately validated what I already knew.  I was pregnant! The Goddess of the moon had bestowed me with child and I was ecstatic. I couldn’t stop smiling. E was relieved and my parents were joyful. My dream was coming true.  Maybe now I’d get the spiritual awakening that can accompany birth – a homebirth, or so I hoped.

Part 22 - Recovering from a failed IVF cycle

Failing an IVF cycle sucks. It’s not so much the wasted time and money, nor the fact you’ve pumped medication into your body unnecessarily but it’s the loss of the life you began to allow yourself to imagine. Broken dreams. And the fact that on some level you feel that you’re not good enough to be blessed with the gift of new life, almost as if the Universe has it in for you.

I know that I needed to understand how a failed IVF cycle felt to be a more empathetic, conscious and compassionate healer, and be able to help others, but it still hurt.  Having already had Elijah undoubtedly softened the blow and I can only imagine how much tougher it must be for those couples who have not already been blessed with a baby. Furthermore, I cannot imagine having to go through failed cycles repeatedly.

Deep down I had known the IVF wasn’t going to work and I’d self sabotaged really, but this didn’t stop me from feeling shocked. It was my wake up call and it was E’s wake up call too. He’d been going through the motions with me but not feeling it either, concerned as he was whether we would cope with another baby with both of us still so sleep deprived by the first.

We processed the failing in our own way and both concluded that actually, yes, we really did want another baby. We’d been told the greatest gift we could give Elijah was a sibling, and we both felt this. We were older parents with siblings of our own living, for the most part, the other side of the world and we didn’t want Elijah being left on his own.

We were also very well aware that we only had one frozen blastocyst still remaining, stored as it was in the clinic in Southampton. We knew this was our last chance because we didn’t want to have to go through the whole process from the beginning again, it was this blastocyst or it was none.

I still recall the moment in the clinic during embryo transfer the first time, when two of the three blastocysts had been inserted into my uterus, and we were told that the remaining blastocyst would be frozen. I had this overwhelming sense that the blastocyst would become a baby one day.  It had concerned me slightly as I had always dreamt of having two children and we had the potential for twins with that first cycle.

However, they say that the Universe only gives you as much as you can handle and clearly we weren’t going to be able to manage twins as only one of the blastocysts took. And now here we were, hoping to try for a second baby and only having that one frozen blastocyst left. 

It’s a strange concept; a life conceived with the energy of a February full moon in 2013 and yet frozen in time for use in another year.

I knew now, with absolute certainty, that I wanted this frozen blastocyct to become a baby.  I also knew that to achieve this, I needed to make changes. My body felt acidic and exhausted, my mind was cluttered and agitated, my spirit had been flagging and my life too busy and noisy.  I recognised that it was time to retreat, heal, deepen my faith and get my feet firmly back down on the ground again.

It was October at the time and I had a follow-up telephone call with the clinic, confirming that I wanted to try again using our final blastocyst.  The clinic was happy for me to begin whenever I felt ready and I had a feeling that this would be in the following February.  I was keen to align the frozen embryo cycle as closely as possible with the original cycle, and give myself plenty of time to heal.

The seasons each have their own energy, encouraging a different way of being, you can see this clearly in nature. Spring is full of the incredibly vibrancy of new life and new beginnings, ignited by Imbolc on 1 February and I wanted to tap into this.  I felt that to thaw the blastocyst in the same seasonal energy that it was frozen would spark some recognition and there would be a resonance that would be lacking at other times of the year.

Furthermore, nature encourages one to retreat, rejuvenate and replenish during the darker months of the year and I was keen to flow with this.  The timing felt ‘right’ as if it was always meant to be.

And I suspect it was always meant to be, for it felt as if my decision-making caused a rush of support to come in. I asked the angels for help and help was given.

I got this overwhelming feeling that I needed to go and see my Ayurvedic doctor and on her recommendation, and with complete ease, I booked myself on a three-day Pancha karma at her clinic near Gatwick during the beginning of December.    

This was a deeply healing experience, not least the opportunity to spend two nights on my own and much of it in silence, but the effect of the treatments too. I was massaged within an inch of my life, my body nourished and my mind cooled and quietened with glorious oils and herbs, and my soul nurtured and brought back to life. My feet were also brought back down to earth again.

There was another benefit to the trip in that Elijah self-weaned.  He was two by then and I had been praying for a peaceful weaning experience, and lo and behold here it came. My Ayurvedic doctor had been keen for me to wean him and had proposed the use of herbs which would make my milk taste bitter.

It had taken me a while to come to terms with this, and reach the point where I felt ready to do so, and so I agreed to the herbs being massaged around my nipples during the treatment.  Whether Elijah could sense the change in my smell, or had decided himself that he was ready to wean, I’ll never know, but strangely he didn’t even try to feed. I admit I grieved for a few days, but I was welcoming of the shift this created for the family.

I’ll also admit that Elijah started sleeping better, now he woke every three hours. The trouble was I couldn’t now pacify him with my breast, but a cuddle seemed to do the job, so I spent much of the night cuddling him now.  This didn’t seem so bad, plus I started to feel like I had a little more energy, and I enjoyed the additional freedom – E could now try settling him to sleep (this is the bit that now took the time and energy!).

I also went for some Ki massage sessions with an intuitive healer, who helped me to recognise and come to terms with the anger and rage I had been holding in my uterus towards the placenta previa and the Caesarean Section. The sessions were insightful and taught me a lot about how we hold our emotions in the physical body and how this affects how we feel on every other level and how our lives unfold in the material world as a result of this.

I also finally managed to find an ornament for my altar of a family of four, so I had a clear visual of what I was trying to create. I updated my vision board too, with images of babies and me pregnant. I know that the jury is out on vision boards as you need to also feel whatever it is you’re trying to create but for me the visual has always helped in manifesting the dream.

New Year arrived and with that I did a burning bowl ceremony where I let go of the old, and set my intentions for the year ahead – it was easy, 2016 was about creation and bringing another soul into the world.

Once an intention has been set and is felt deep within one’s heart and soul, then a spark ignites in the ether and the Universe conspires to provide the support that is needed to assist you on your journey.  All you’ve got to do is get out of the way and try not to control the process.

It was poignant therefore that two weeks later I cracked some ribs while skiing my last run of the holiday. I quickly realised why it had happened because it hurt to move, which meant I couldn’t really do anything. I had needed to slow down and the Universe had intervened and made sure of that!

As I mentioned, the Universe will always support what you are trying to create if it is heart felt, but it will never unfold in a way you could imagine. It will leave signs and prompts to direct you along the path, but if you continue ignoring them and not listening to the advice that is given then it will take drastic action to get your attention.

The Universe had my attention and I almost laughed at the state I now found myself in.  I had little choice but to rest. I couldn’t exercise and I couldn’t practice yoga, at least not in the active manner I had been practicing previously. It was a blessing really, as it encouraged me into a whole new way of being, especially on my yoga mat.

It gave me the opportunity to practice restorative yoga, which I had not practiced for years.  It was perfect, as it helped me to acknowledge the depths of my exhaustion and to (finally) do something about this.  I was amazed how quickly I felt the benefits of resting in poses for prolonged periods of time, and am thankful to Judith Lasater’s book called “Rest and Renew” for guidance with this

I also dropped into my Yoga Nidra space again and now felt aligned with the Sankalpa, “I am pregnant with a healthy baby”. I was meditating again too and I prayed for a successful IVF cycle and asked for the support and guidance of the angels.  I invested in Rose Quartz and Moonstone, both reputed to assist with fertility and pregnancy and dowsed for Bach Floral remedies to support me.

By the February I was feeling more myself again.  I was stronger physically and mentally than I had been for some time and my faith and connection to Source felt restored. I also felt empowered, as I had listened to my intuition and the guidance of the Universe and tried my best to flow with both and now here I was feeling whole and centred again; healed then.

I knew I was now ready for another round of IVF and I had a strong feeling that this time it would result in a positive outcome. I was back in my IVF zone and focused on doing all I could to support and trust in the process.