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Letting Go

fertility healing infertility pregnancy surrender May 10, 2023

Story time! I have my cup of piping hot tea with local honey in it, how about you? I’m very specific about my vibe when I’m sitting down to write. I’m not one of those gals who can just bust out a blog post all willy-nilly. I need the mood to be right! Perhaps this is why I’m abysmal at consistent posting on all platforms lol. Some would say this is an excuse. I don’t really care what people call it – I like things the way I like them okay! And that includes the mood, vibe, ambience, etc that needs to be in place for me to write from my heart 😊


Okay so onto story time.


It was New Years Eve, 2021. We were moments away from calling in 2022. It was such a fun night! We were with dear friends, I was in a sparkly dress (because who isn’t having fun in a sparkly dress, amiright?!), and we were playing a nonstop game of Fish Bowl, or better known as the greatest game ever invented. It was so fun that we stayed up until 330 AM PLAYING THIS GAME YOU GUYS.


Now this is generally not in my wellness repertoire, staying up until this ungodly hour and swimming in French 75s (although if you have ever had a French 75 you know why they are my favorite cocktail). But when its New Years Eve, when you’re feeling yourself in a sparkly dress, and when you’re celebrating 9 years of being with the love of your life, you say fuck it and play games until 330am in the morning okay.


So we finally get home after 63294 games of Fish Bowl and a lifetime’s worth of side stitches from laughing so hard and tears through laughter (my favorite kind!), and the next thing I know – its tomorrow and it’s time to journal about all the things I’m hoping to create for my life in the beautiful, inspiring, blank canvas, absolute endless potential that is a new year.


At this point, we had been trying to start our family since 2019. It goes without saying that becoming a mama, getting pregnant, starting a family with my wonderful husband – all of these are always at the top of my list of desires for each new year. And 2022 was no different. It’s as prevalent in my heart as is the sun in the sky. It exists there always, without exception.


So I put pen to paper and started pouring out what I hoped to create in 2022, new life and motherhood being number one. In years past, this proclamation always felt real and tangible. But, in a moment of utter honesty here, there was always a whisper of … “but what if it doesn’t happen?” There, right next to my heart’s deepest desire of becoming a mama, of growing new life inside my womb, of inextricably mingling my soul with another, right there next to it existed an invisible and somehow entirely palpable fear that … maybe it just wouldn’t happen for me. Maybe these dreams are too much. Maybe this is a dream for others, but for whatever reason it simply can’t be for me.


This year was different.


When I wrote out my hopes of having a child in 2022, I didn’t feel that subtext, invisible next to my words. It was such a new feeling, the premise of hope and trust without worry and fear tied to it.


In welcoming in the gifts of 2022 and all the potential that lie ahead, I decided something in that journal session that I fully believe with every ounce of me, made all the difference in our conception journey from that moment on.


I decided to let go.


Let go of all of my old fears that I had equated to the journey of becoming a mama.


Let go of my relentless control in our situation.


Let go of my intellect that thought it was running the show.


Let go of every last little thing that was holding me back from embodying the person I knew I had to become in order to conceive and carry this new life.


Let go of my diagnosis.


Let go of the words that had inhabited my subconscious (infertility, sub-fertility, PCOS, hormonal imbalance, hypothyroid, adrenal dysfunction, toxically burdened, etc etc etc)


Let go of everything that caused me anxiety.


Let go of the white-knuckling I had done for so many years.


Just … let it all go.


And I sat with this phrase for a long time that January 1, 2022. Actually it worked out well for me because my boo was on a hike with his mama that day, so I had the house to myself to really get into the headspace I needed to get into to bring forth my deepest wants.


I sat with these words for a long time, in front of my altar, with some candles burning, with a stick of Palo Santo burning in a crystal dish, while listening to Tibetan singing bowls. I just sat there, picturing everything that was holding me back, everything that was taking up valuable space in my head and my heart and my womb, and I just pictured it washing away from me like waves on the sand.


I asked myself how it would feel to not worry about getting pregnant, to not feel anxious about getting pregnant, to not be angry/devastated/heartbroken if my period came each month. I asked myself how it would feel to just enjoy my life, every bite of food, every page of a good book, every barefoot walk in the grass, every moment of lovemaking – how would it feel to just enjoy living and doing all of these things rather than white-knuckling my way through to an eventual pregnancy? What if every single moment, bite, sip, page, walk, kiss, cuddle, laugh, tear – what if all of this could just be a beautiful, fulfilling, life-giving, heart-opening thread in the tapestry that is my human experience, AND NOT JUST merely a stronghold of control, a means to an end, a drop in the bucket toward an eventual pregnancy?


And beneath these questions, I found what can only be described as a sigh. And what does a sigh feel like? It feels calm. It feels like relief. It feels like a weight lifted. It feels like … letting go.


And it was there, in that meditation, in those moments of sitting in stillness and communing with my heart, that I realized what was happening.


I was alchemizing everything from the past 3 years … every tear, every heart break, every disappointment, every stressed out moment, every fret over one of those God-forsaken ovulation strips, every opportunity missed, every ounce of pain/guilt/shame/sadness/anger – I didn’t know it at the time, but I was alchemizing all of that into the possibility that eventually became the soul of our sweet son.


When I came back into myself (or back OUT of myself, I’ll never really know …), I felt lighter than I had felt in years. I knew in that moment that our baby could come to us in 2022. I would continue to eat well, sleep well, de-stress, track my cycle, learn, supplement appropriately, drink my teas, eat my raw liver and my cod liver oil lol, but I was going to do so with absolutely NOTHING attached to the outcome. I was doing it all because I WANTED TO BE DOING IT, not because I “thought” its what was necessary to get pregnant. I didn’t feel the difference before. But in that moment, I did.


I know that this sounds easier said than done. It's like when everyone around you who knows you're struggling to get pregnant says "just stop stressing!" "just HAVE FUN!" "just... stop trying!" "just stop WORRYING already!" "just have FAITH!". OKAY BECKY, DO YOU THINK I LIKE BEING A FUCKING BASKET CASE ABOUT THIS??? DO YOU THINK ITS JUST THAT SIMPLE??? DO YOU THINK I'M NOT PRAYING FOR THIS BABY EVERY GOD FORSAKEN NIGHT??? UGH!!! Never have I ever wanted to punch people more lol.


The truth is, its NOT that simple. It has never been that simple.


So at the risk of sounding like Becky here, this whole concept of "letting go" was not just a piece of well-meaning, yet completely unhelpful advice from the peanut gallery of people who had no probllamas getting pregnant; it was something that found its way into my conscious mind on MY terms, when I was READY to receive it. Call this what you want -- God, Spirit, Divine Intervention, Angels, Energy, the Universe, whatever -- it was something beyond me, beyond my control, beyond my physical efforts, beyond my intellect. I wasn't ready to let go until I was ready to let go. And somehow, in that moment, I was ready for this.


It would be almost 6 months before we would see a positive pregnancy test. But those 6 months were so heart-filling. I was happier. My heart felt lighter. I was nourished. I was peaceful. I could feel the fun in my daily practices once again. I played more. I trusted more. I trusted MYSELF more. And every month I got my period, I didn’t feel heartbroken anymore, but rather I met it with gratitude, for revealing my fertility, my womanhood, the sacredness of my womb space that would one day very soon be our baby’s first home.


For anyone reading this who is on their own fertility journey, I want you to know that I see you. I not only see you, but I feel you on the deepest possible level. I know what it feels like to want something so badly that you can taste it. You can feel it in you. You are me. I am you. My heart knows yours. My heart knows your pain, for I have walked where you are walking. And I know how impossibly hard it is to see hope on the other side of your anguish. I hope that in sharing my own struggles it gives you a beacon to reach for when you feel lost and alone. There’s truth but no logic, only that which can be felt with the heart, which is the language of your spirit and the spirit of the beautiful little baby that is on its way to you right this very moment.


Let go. Feel your deepest feels, and allow the alchemy to unfold.


Yours in Abundant Love and Health


Emily 🌻

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