Post--But she had wings

An excerpt from a writing project called Sing Barren Woman

Back to the barren years. What do you do when your body fails at something it is designed to do? Well, you search for answers. You start to listen to voices – medical professionals, preachers, grandmothers, and gurus. You look for reasons and solutions. And you keep searching as far as your resources and peace of mind will allow you to go.

My heart’s desire was to have a baby. We did all we could do medically, but nothing. So I tried a host of things and took a lot of advice. I read and researched areas from nutrition to sexual positions; from deliverance to acupuncture. All in hopes of finding the keys to unlock my body’s inability to conceive. For the most part, my philosophy was to throw everything on the wall and see what decided to stick. That philosophy did not exude wisdom or discernment obviously. I did, however, learn so much about my body, about faith and prayer, about people, and my own fortitude.

As I’ve mentioned previously, this journey didn’t begin in desperation. It began without a thought at all. Couples just assume that when they decide they want to get pregnant, then they will. But when it doesn’t happen, the intensity of it all grows with each passing month. When those months turn into years, the fear and desperation begin to drive the train – sometimes for me, it was the crazy train ( “All Aboard Ha Ha Ha Ha…..Ay Ay Ay” - If you know you know).

Anyway, by the time we were three years into trying to conceive, I had already worked on the obvious issues. Weed was an almost daily part of my early twenties. This was an obvious lifestyle change I made to be as physically, emotionally, and spiritually healthy as I could be. I exercised. I ate healthily. Still nothing. So in addition to the obvious, I searched for other things to implement in hopes that each new thing would be the answer.

Someone suggested mangosteen. So I drank mangosteen juice. I read about raspberry tea, cinnamon, and pomegranates. People suggested classical music, worship music, and the calming sound of nature. Tried them all. I tried any fertility diet and old wives’ tale I found. If there was a root, berry, leaf, tea, or tonic that claimed it helped with fertility I tried it. Pretty sure I danced around a campfire during a weekend camping trip (but in all honesty that was not really an out-of-the-ordinary thing). I look back now and think I should have just had merlot, buttered popcorn, peanut M&M’s, more movies, pasta, and cheesecake.

I didn’t need a potion. I needed peace. But here is the truth of the matter - for me - at that time. If Mangosteen juice or hanging upside down after sex offered even a fraction of help, then I wanted to do it. I wanted to…throw it ALL on the wall to see what would stick.

I can’t say any of these things I did were harmful. But neither were they helpful. They did not end up creating the perfect atmosphere physically or emotionally for me to conceive. If anything the striving added to my stress.

I was at times a bit unhinged. Like the time I wanted to get rid of our cat because I heard they carried a parasite that cause infertility and miscarriages. Once I had the knowledge of this cat parasite, I was done. I was done with Kitty. Kitty needed a new home. Kitty no longer had my affection or attention. Kitty’s potential parasites could cause infertility. Do you see how irrational I was?

It was easier somehow to think that the stray cat could be the culprit rather than come to terms with the fact that I may not ever conceive a child because my body… my body was the problem. I knew by now I had polycystic ovaries but I wanted to give them the best chance to be healthy and if my cat posed a threat then I was going to throw Kitty on that wall to see if she stuck.

And the people in my life knew I was coming unhinged. “Your cat is not the problem, Victoria. Get a grip girl.”

Sometimes, when family and friends spoke this kind of truth to me, I was angry. Then I was hurt. Didn’t anyone understand the depth of my pain and longing? Was I hurting anyone by trying so hard to “do” something - anything, to give myself some sense of control over this situation? But eventually, I could make the full circle. Kitty wasn’t hurting me. In fact, unless I was eating raw rodent meat or handling cat poop w my bare hands, I was fine!

But to be living in that state of constant anxiety and desperation! It was exhausting. Where was my rationality? Where was wisdom? Where was my peace of mind? I can tell you now. Fear had started consuming me. I had to get a grip. What I needed was the Grip of Grace.

Providentially, there were many other things I tried along the way that actually did put me in the Grip of Grace. They put me firmly on a path of healing and wholeness. There were spiritual disciplines and self-care habits that I implemented during this season of my life, and they are things that bring me joy and wholeness even to this day. They equip me.

Practicing my purpose through certain disciplines has transformed my life and continues to transform me. They are now a part of who I am. I need them like I need water and food. I long for them like I long for time with my best friends. If I neglect them, I become anemic and when I embrace them, I am Empowered. It’s not legalistic and there is not a formula. These are simply ways to live in a relationship with the Creator of the Universe - to find balance - to find peace - to be centered.

I gave up Mangosteen juice and dolphin sounds…... But I began to live by:

Prayer

Meditation/Contemplation

Study

Journaling

Fasting

Giving and serving

Times of Solitude and Silence

Fellowship

Laughter

Gratitude

Worship/Praise

Sunshine

Implementing new habits and disciplines looks different for everyone. And an exhaustive list would be too overwhelming to do at once. These develop over time and change as our own seasons in life change. This healthy balance would eventually keep me – they helped me keep my peace of mind….and my cat.

By the way…my barren years lasted nine years. I look back now and see the merciful beautiful sustaining Hand of the Father. And since then there have been many other trials and brokenness and failures and fear. These tools, fashioned by the One who fashioned me are the implements that continue to bring healing and revelation to my soul. They are for our use in partnership and relationship with God. El Shaddai is present with me in them. Wisdom, she calls out to me in these practices. I am sheltered in sacred places and empowered to transform my world.

For those of you that have taken the time over the years to read these posts, you know they are quite random…I’m a mind mapper…But let’s try something different. My next several posts will be about these very tools that continue to equip and protect. And I’d love to hear about yours.

I haven’t said it in a while. But thank you for reading. V