Open Letter To My Uterus
I know we haven't spoken in a while. I discovered you during my pregnancy, I'd never given you much thought until then. But those few month while practicing Hypnobirthing we connected every night while I listen to my tracks. I discovered about the way you worked and how together we'd bring my little bundle of joy into the world. I thought you were amazing.
Then my gorgeous daughter arrived. We made quite the team didn't we! But after labour I forgot about you. Busy learning how to be mum, you drifted from my thoughts, back into obscurity with my other internal organs. Of course I talked of other uteri often with my clients, but I made no time for you, my own.
Until, that is, the beginning of the year when I started thinking about another baby. I paid you a little attention then, didn't I? Well, enough to chart my cycle at least. And as I'd taken for granted you would, by the second month I knew I was pregnant. All those little hints I had missed first time round I saw clearly. I glowed with our little secret. As days went by I couldn't keep it just between us anymore. "I think I might be..." I'd whisper. Baby names, seeing my little girls face when she found out about a brother or sister, glorious moments started filling my imagination.
"Don't get ahead of yourself" my ever pragmatic husband warned. "When you know, you know" I smiled back, secure in the knowledge, you and me, we had a connection again.
The days dragged until I could take a test, but the surer I became. Then a few little cramps, a little spotting, very unusual for me. Another sign I thought...
And then finally came the positive pregnancy test! But unfortunately so did my period. All in the same day. A chemical pregnancy. I never even knew such things existed. More and more common for them to be picked up with such sensitive home tests available apparently. Some call it a missed miscarriage, although I hadn't missed it. I knew.
"I'd rather something happened now than later on" I reassured the few closer friends I told. "I'm fine." After all what right did I have to be upset over a couple cells, when I've seen other women go through losing their babies at 10, 12 weeks or later. "At least you know you can get pregnant," some consoled. "True" I said. I moved on.
But now I know I didn't, although I think you've known that all along, haven't you? Instead of the baby I so wanted growing in you, resentment did. It divided and multiplied with every passing month, each new period, another negative pregnancy test.
Why can't you just work I'd scream at you internally. You've got one job to do I raged. Months passed. The resentment bubbled away. "These things take time" I'd say outwardly. Besides, how could I be frustrated after trying for only few mere months, other try for years, under go painful procedures, endure far more than I had.
Still, things didn't feel right, you were trying to tell me something weren't you? All of a sudden irregular periods, excruciating cramps, serious mood swings. I tried the GPs although they blamed it all on being an over tired mum. They ran some tests. But I didn't feel heard, it didn't help. So I booked to see a Mizan Therapist. I'd heard of it through my hypnobirthing work and though I didn't know much about it, I thought it was worth a try.
I arrived not knowing what to expect. I sat and explained everything. And this woman, this amazing woman taught me things I had no idea about you. Obviously I know plenty about how uteri work during pregnancy and birth, but what you did the rest of the time I soon realised I was completely ignorant.
Then the massage started, which was an amazing experience wasn't it? I am certain you felt it too. "Picture something that no longer serves you," this magical woman said "Its time to let it go." That positive pregnancy test swam before my eyes. I felt all the bitterness I'd felt towards you surge through me. And sadness, sadness I had hidden and buried. I finally let myself feel it. I realised I have no business comparing my heartbreak to that of others. That is their experience and this mine. Pain is relative. It hurt.
So, dear uterus, I hope you can forgive me. I haven't been a good friend to you. I wanted to write this letter so you'd understand why, and so I could let go of the negative feelings I've had towards you. It's time to work together again, as a team, just like in labour. You'll be pleased to know I've learnt you need nourishing, you need my attention and connection. You see, there is less chance of seed flourishing if you haven't taken time and care to prepare the soil.
You can find Claire at https://linktr.ee/behypno