Le Mois Huit

Yesterday I went to a beautiful secluded haven in the ancient part of the city where I used to work. It's full of exotic furnishings, beautiful tiles, huge perfect roses and most importantly, lovely people. 

As I walked through the entrance and into the courtyard, I was greeted by repetitions of  'Salam Aleikoum' (peace be with you) and Ca va? Ca va, Al Hamdulilah (Fine, Thanks be to God). It's been ages since we've seen you. Where have you been? How is your family? Good, Al Hamdulilah. How is your husband? Fine, thank you, Al Hamdulilah. This went on and on as I met all the wonderful people I once worked with for a short time.

Then one lady, who I had formed a special bond with during my time there, walked up to me and gave me a forceful hug. I missed you! It's been so long. And then she touched her tummy and said 'bebe, pas encore?' (baby, not yet?). No not yet, I replied. Then she grabbed my hands and stared into my eyes. Le Mois Huit. The Eighth Month. That's when it will happen for you. 

I was taken aback. I had not expected her to say this. She didn't even know we were trying. Could she see the desperation, the heartache in me? How could she be so sure, so precise? It really affected me and has been on my mind since.

In Morocco, everyone asks when we will have a baby. My husband's family, people I work with and even people we meet for the first time. It's just part of the culture here - family, marriage, babies are at the core of everything. (Which makes coping with infertility all the harder to deal with sometimes.)

Morocco also has a tradition of mysticism and magic. Despite being a largely Muslim society many people regularly go to fortune tellers and herbalists for love potions and protection against evil spells. Stories about ghosts, spirits and other strange happenings inspire many traditional tales. With this in the back of my mind, I started replaying what she said and how she looked at me.

Could she by my Moroccan fortune teller?  Can I believe August will be the month it finally happens? Le Mois Huit. Insh'Allah (God willing). As we say in Morocco.

A homebirth HypnoBirthing story

Here is a homebirth HypnoBirthing story from another practitioner:

Dear Rose,
I love you so much! You were born 6 weeks ago on a Friday. My water broke right into the toilet at around 1 am Friday morning when I got up to pee. I knew immediately what had happened and was filled with joy, excitement and a little bit of nervousness- although not much. We let the midwife, Ellen, know and then I got back into bed while Daddy cleaned the house and started the long slow process of filling the tub in the yoga studio. I was having very mild and well spaced surges that, in addition to my excitement, kept me from sleeping. It was a lovely time- I listened to the playlist we had made a few weeks prior- all my favorite feel-good hippie music.

At 4ish Daddy got back into bed and read and stroked me and timed my surges. It was so romantic- quiet and dark and wondrous with the thought of your imminent arrival. At 7 or so, we got up and I had a bowl of cereal since I knew it might be my last chance to eat. I spent the next two and a half hours sweeping the floors and doing the last bit of tidying up. Kevin laughed at me and called me a good peasant woman when I would pause and lean on the broom for support when a surge rolled through my body. It didn't hurt.

At around 9:30 Daddy and I got back into bed and I did some relaxation techniques. At noon, the surges became stronger and closer together and then at 12:30 they really became powerful. It was very intense and I became completely focused and knew you wouldn't be long in coming.

Ellen, our midwife, came at 2 in the afternoon and felt my cervix. I was eight and a half centimeters dilated and she said I could get in the tub and start pushing if I liked. Twenty minutes, later I did just that. At first I knelt facing the edge of the tub, and after a little while Ellen had me turn around and tuck my chin and tailbone to help you slide under my pubic bone more easily. Kevin held me from behind in his loving supportive arms. I also needed my legs held so I wouldn't sink in between surges, so mom and dad, your Gramma and Grandpa, each held a foot! Grandpa was a little overwhelmed at first - he was getting more of an experience than he had bargained for! He soon let his fears subside however, and sank into the moment.

I started pushing in the tub while everyone smiled and encouraged me. When you were easing your way down the birth canal, you got the hiccoughs! Ellen said- "Really? You're going to get the hiccoughs NOW???" We all laughed. And then your head popped out! I reached down and pulled you out myself, out through the warm water and up, up into my arms! I drew you in close and gazed in awe down at your beautiful tiny little being and everyone had tears of happiness and wonder streaming down their cheeks. It was a moment forever crystallized in my mind.

Right after you were born, the electricity went out. We filled the bedroom with candles while you were getting weighed. It was so romantic. You nursed while everyone ate cheese with fig jam and sipped Spanish wine by twinkling candlelight.

Love, Mommy

Great story, and how nice of the power company to choose just the right time to have a blackout :)

Diane Sternbach, CT, HBCE
HypnoBirthing (r)
HypnoBirthng (r) Fertility Program
Interactive Imagery Guide (sm)
EFT

Thanks for sharing that beautiful birth story, Diane!

www.AWellLivedLife.Net
www.AWellLivedLife.blogspot.com

Let's Talk About Sex

**Caution! This post has a TMI warning. Especially for SILs and other family members. Don't say I didn't warn you!** 

I have sex on the brain right now. It's my fertile time, my husband is away, and we're on a TTC ban for the next few months. But I can't stop thinking about sex! 

However this actually makes a nice change from thinking during sex. Over this TTC year (and then some) sex really has changed. It is always about the possibility of making a baby. Even when it's not during my fertile window, even when it starts out spontaneously (which honestly doesn't happen that often), my mind always drifts back to: this is it, this could be it, I could get pregnant, there's always the chance, ooh let me work out when the baby would be born, hmm nine months, April, May, June, July..... and so on. Sexy, right? Romantic, umm....

So my husband left nearly two weeks ago on a trip for work. This is the first time he's been away for such a long period of time since we started trying for our elusive pregnancy. Before confirming the dates of any trip he went on, he always asked where I would be in my cycle so that we wouldn't miss any opportunity. And now he doesn't even need to ask since he downloaded a new app for his iPhone, the menstrual calendar, that charts my cycle and informs him of when my fertile days will most likely be, ah the romance!

Then we found out that for the next few months this won't really be needed either, since we have to take a break from trying while I detoxify my overly-leaded self (backstory here). So this time it didn't matter when he left. And as it happened he would be leaving over my most fertile days. 

I'm in my ovulating phase now and after a year of this always being THE TIME for sex, sex and more sex, it's now very weird being completely sexually inactive. My brain is still on babymaking mode and it just feels unnatural at this time to be in a sexual desert. In a way I'm actually glad he's gone because I think the temptation to try would overwhelm me right now. Hmm, maybe it's time for a change of mindset.

But not quite like this.

It's time to get back to enjoying sex. It's time for sex to be about us, about me, about him. And maybe this break will be just the medicine for that. I just don't know if my mind will comply and allow me to let go and just enjoy sex as it used to be, before all this TTC madness. Is it possible?

God, I hope so! I miss those days!

When we got married...

It was beautiful. It was everything we had wished for and more. We picked the places, the clothes, the words, the rings and sent out the invitations.

We were blessed with the weather, the skies were blue, the birds were chirping and the air was warm. We had fallen in love with this place when we first visited two years before. A magical place, over mountains and into a valley below.

But this magical place was not exactly convenient. It wasn't exactly the sort of place where they did weddings like ours often. In fact, we were the first. It wouldn't be easy getting the florist, the cake, the champagne & even the guests to this breathtaking place. But we knew it would all be worth it in the end. And to make it even more challenging, we were going to do it twice. One European wedding, one Moroccan wedding - within 3 days. 

We had beautiful Moroccan roses. Morocco is famous for its roses. They lined the path, they lay on tables and they hung from the sky.

They encircled the Moroccan lanterns.

And we were surrounded by olive trees. We decided to use them too.

The food was delicious.

And cooked to perfection.

There was music.

And bellydancing.

And cake. 

Chocolate mousse cake to be exact.

But it didn't all go as smooth as that chocolate mousse

 cake.

Earlier on in the morning, in Bridal Headquarters, we were anxious, but on time. Hairdryers, curling irons, blusher brushes and cups of coffee in hand. Until there was a power cut. The sound of whirring hairdryers died away. Sitting in my dressing gown with sopping wet hair, I realized for the first time what it meant to get married in the mountains, far away from "modern civilization". Hmm, maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all? The power returned. No, it was going to be fine - we continued on. Then another power cut. Followed by a return, followed by another cut. I can get married with wet hair right? Somehow we got our hair dry, styled and make-up applied. And finally in Bridal HQ we were good to go.

We took the last of the ubiquitous black-and-white bridal photos as we prepared to get the show on the road.

Then we got a call. Bad news. At the time it seemed like the worst news in the world, okay that's an overreaction but I was on the verge of getting married and the bridezilla that lurks in each of us, just burst out uncontrollably when I heard - My fabulous Mr. T had not been so fabulous. He had forgotten his trousers! My sister recalls how she walked in, trying to find out what the hell was going on, to find him standing there in his shirt, tie, suit jacket, socks and boxer shorts - looking very sheepish and well, a bit scared. And rightly so!

We were an hour away from home. The guests had arrived and we needed to start. Getting married so far away in the mountains was now definitely starting to look like a bad idea. Did my irritation with him make me question whether or not we should get married? It certainly crossed my mind. Especially when I was asked if he could go ahead in jeans. However, after some creative suit swapping between his groomsmen and one of the guests my Dad had picked out from the crowd, he finally had a suit to wear, complete with trousers. I never imagined our something borrowed would be my husband-to-be's trousers.

So we eventually made it to the ceremony in all our finery, borrowed or otherwise.

There we met across the water. We made promises. We exchanged rings. 

I forgot about the trousers.

 

We were pronounced husband and wife. We kissed.

And then we danced the night away.

A day later we were doing it all again but this time with henna.

And decorative wedding chairs.

And Moroccan caftans.

And Mr. T's trousers.

This is the story of when we got married that I hope one day we'll be able to tell our kids. The story of the Moroccan wedding in the mountains and the forgotten trousers.

A quick, easy HypnoBirth

This is a birth story told from a doula & HypnoBirthing practitioner in Florida:

I attended the most wonderful birth yesterday... just shows what is possible even in unfavorable circumstances. This couple is very high strung. Both of them affirmed that they were not good at relaxing. On top of that they chose a hospital that is very unfriendly and a Dr. that is unsupportive and downright nasty. A recipe for disaster in my mind! I really was hesitant to attend this birth but somehow couldn't say no.

Here is how it played out...Mom called me at 7:00 pm to say that labor seemed to be starting. She had surges that were 10 minutes apart but they were light and she would call me when things got rolling. At 10:00 pm, husband called to say surges were 5 minutes apart and could I please come because she doesn't want him near her. Hmm.

I rushed over and found Mom beautifully relaxed and in a great labor pattern. Surges/contractions 4-5 min. apart and strong. She was showing a few of the hallmark of labor signs so I decided we should head to the hospital.

In the car the surges became closer now 2 min. apart. Mom doing great!! We arrived at the hospital to ER where Mom smiled and said can we get up to Labor and Birthing? The nurses asked "Are you a scheduled induction/section?" (She looked way to calm to be in labor). I explained that things were moving quickly and we needed to get up stairs. They ignored us. Didn't believe she was in labor. Too calm! Finally annoyed at my persistance, they had us walk (a really long walk) to the floor.

We were welcomed by the Nurses who again didn't think much was happening. I again give the rundown of the progress and they look at me like I am totally out of my mind..we wait. Mom starts to squat and is strongly breathing baby down. I emphasize again that this baby is coming. We are all calm and decide that squatting in the hall is better than being confined to bed as this hospital requires.

Her membranes release. I tell the nurse. She says I don't see anything...you are ok! I tell her Mom is wearing a pad..this baby is coming! We wait. Another nurse gets the message and offers to take us to a room. This is a great nurse who is also a doula and gets it! We get into the room at 11:20pm. She checks Mom and she is complete/fully dilated.

Mom gets on her hands and knees, breathing down. Nurse #2 says you must get on your back for monitoring. Mom says "No", I hold the monitor. Baby sounds great. Mom continues to breathe down. Nurses leave room to get table, supplies and call the Dr. Mom begins to spontaneously bear down. Nurses come back. Baby is crowning. Mom is laughing! Smiling! Says "This is great! This is beautiful! I love this!", as baby is emerging! She eases baby gently out. It is 11:36pm.

We all are smiling and hubby plays "Sweet Caroline" and we all start singing along as we meet sweet baby Caroline. So joyful. So perfect. It was exactly what she wanted! No interventions! No Dr! No pain! INCREDIBLE! It happened so quickly and beautifully, but we did get some video. I am visualizing that this couple lets the Institute have this one. It would make a wonderful training video. Please send some energy towards that happening!

Still smiling,
Vivian Keeler
www.amazingbirths.com

Thanks, Vivian, for allowing me to share this beautiful story that just goes to show that birth is a normal, natural, healthy event when left alone!

www.AWellLivedLife.Net
www.AWellLivedLife.blogspot.com

My TTC Book Journey

Looking through my growing collection of baby/pregnancy/trying to get pregnant books I realized that it’s a perfect reflection of my TTC journey illustrated through literature. Each purchase tells its own little story of where I was at, what I was thinking and honestly, my complete naivety and ignorance about the reality of TTC.

So it all started off pretty well. This was the first book I bought. I thought I was being very responsible. I was determined to make the healthiest, most beautiful baby around and so gave my hubbie and I a couple of months to get into best conceiving-form before all the baby-making fun could begin. And then because I was so sure I would get pregnant straight away, or at least within a few months, I bought this:

Well you know I had to get prepared for the birth since I was going to get pregnant pretty quickly right? (Aha ha ha ha!) I mean that's what they taught me in Sex Ed. Just one sperm girls, it takes just one sperm. No, it takes at LEAST 20 million of those pesky little tadpoles. Ah, those days of ignorance. It truly was bliss. And yeah, I read the book cover-to-cover in my attempt to be very prepared for what was surely about to happen to me, in say 9 months? A cynical laugh is all I can manage as this book, now sitting at the back of the bookshelf, collects dust (it is actually a great book and recommend it to anyone lucky enough to be in need of it). Eight months later of absolutely no pregnancy double lines on those disloyal, back-stabbing sticks and definitely no childbirth to worry about, I wised up and bought this:

This is a fantastic book and it has given me and my husband a lot of very useful and practical advice. Both of us have got into the best shape we've ever been in and are working really hard to maintain it. When we found out my husband (aka Mr. T,  for new readers) did have a problem with his swimmers, or rather with his non-swimmers, I bought this: 

This purchase was made two months ago as we began accepting our infertility issues but with the resolve that we would do everything in our power to change/improve those factors as much as we possibly could. It may work, we may get pregnant (though I won't be rushing out to buy any what to expect when you're expecting type books, let alone ones on childbirth any time soon!) or it may not. Then I will be buying another set of books. I just wonder which section of the bookshop I'll be heading to after the six month window of natural TTC we've given ourselves. IVF/ICSI, dIUI or adoption? Or dare I say it, the pregnancy and childcare section??? No, I shouldn't jinx it.

Comments really are the new hug

On the eve of the beginning of International Comment Leaving Week (which btw, I am very excited about, I already have the first 5 blogs picked out which I will be commenting on tomorrow) I received a beautiful comment on one of my earlier posts from last week. And it really was like getting a big reassuring hug. 

I love all the comments I get on my blog. It's so wonderful to know other people are reading and empathizing with you. Seeing comments at the bottom of a post always gives me butterflies of excitement, maybe that will wear off when I become a more seasoned blogger? I hope not. But this comment had something extra special about it. This comment was so kind and so heartfelt, it made me shed a tear, or two, or maybe three. The author of this big warm hug in the shape of a comment was my sister-in-law. Here is what she wrote:

Hey Clare, 

like I said I was going to read your blogs when I had turned in my paper..So I did last friday and I took some time off from the computer (I started to get square eyes..). Today I was at work and I was bored so I started to read your blog from where I last read it..Thank you for making me cry like a baby at work.. (thank god there was no one across me ;) That was really emotional and in one story I could understand just how you must have felt that day. I hope you feel a bit better now. You're one of the strongest people I know and I know you will get yourself and my brother through this.

I have all the time in the world to wait for my niece/nephew because I know it must take a long time for Allah to create a little creature like my brother and you. Perfection doesn't happen overnight, you know ;)

This is probably the most wonderful thing anyone has said to me during this TTC journey. Posting it here is my way of saying thank you and honouring such beautiful words. Those words that wrapped their arms around me and gave a much-needed reassuring squeeze.

Hugs certainly are the best medicine in the world. And comments are blog love. This week I will be sure to reach out to others I have not found yet and spread some groovy blog love too. 

The Chocolate Embargo & A Toxic Lady

It's Saturday night and I'm at home alone. Not because I didn't have somewhere to go. I could have gone out to see a friend sing and then on to a club after. But I can't. So I'm at home watching a film starring the truly wonderful Donald Sutherland, shame I can't say the same for the movie though. And what would usually make this movie night in far more pleasurable would be a bar (or two, lets be honest) of my favourite chocolate.

This is heaven in a silky paper wrap.

But I can't do this either for I am on a chocolate embargo. It's been a week now and I've had not one square, not one flake, not one crumb of delicious melt-in-your mouth velvety-smooth chocolate. Uh why oh why would I do this? Well it's all for my health, which means it's also all about boosting my chances of getting pregnant.

Last month I cut off a section of my hair and sent it off to a laboratory. (It was in a very inconspicuous place at the back where no one would notice there was a chunk of hair missing, well with the exception of a hairdresser maybe). There they analyzed it and checked it for essential nutrients and for toxic minerals.

My husband also did this as we thought that he might show some nutritional deficiencies and possibly even some toxicity, since we knew something was affecting his fertility. Imagine our surprise when his test came back clear of all toxic minerals and his nutritional health appeared to be good; but me? Well my test came back with high toxic levels of lead and way too much copper. Lead! Where the hell did I pick that up?

So now I'm one toxic lady. Maybe I should have a big yellow sign with a skull and crossbones tattooed to my head? Or a warning label: handle with extreme caution, may cause irritation, rinse eyes thoroughly if you come into contact with this woman?? 

I have racked my brain about where this could have come from but I'm stumped. I have lived in some pretty polluted cities in my time, could it be this? I've never used leaded paint, I always filter my drinking and cooking water, where else do you get lead from? Well apart from wondering about where it came from, I really had to think about how to get it OUT.

Luckily none of this is appearing to affect my fertility but if I did get pregnant my toxic body wouldn't be the best environment for a baby, and it's also not too good for me in the long run. So a comprehensive plan to get the lead out and balance the copper has been formulated. I have to eat very healthily, I have to avoid foods with high levels of copper - and yes you guessed it, my delicious dark heavenly-chocolate is very guilty and needs to be avoided completely. Sigh, no more nights in just the two of us, me and my dark delight.

I will miss you. I will never forget you. You made me feel good when no other could. 

I also need to steam/sauna a lot and I need to take many many supplements or what those in the industry call nutriceuticals. Check it out: 

These should help with the elimination process, support my liver and make sure I stay fit and healthy during the detox. I do look like a junkie or someone who's chronically-ill when I lay out all my capsules of varying colours and sizes at breakfast - but at least they're all natural and aren't going to give me any nasty side effects.

It also means I have to stay away from toxic environments which is one of the reasons why I didn't go out tonight. Morocco is, I think, about a century away from having a smoking ban (though I remain ever hopeful that some enlightened individual will eventually push one through in my lifetime) and so restaurants, bars and clubs are just blue-smoke hazes on a busy night. Another reason for staying in tonight is that the actual lead detox does have effects on your body. When you try to get this stuff out, it has to get into your system and travel through to your liver for elimination, this can make you feel a bit rough. So far I've had weird headaches where it feels like my head is in a vice and some nausea. I thought this wouldn't start until I actually got pregnant?? But these effects should start to ease off once I start clearing out the heavy metal properly. 

I think it helps if I try and picture the heavy metal that's slowly poisoning me like this.

It also means that we have to stop trying for a few months. This is weird for me and very difficult to comprehend. When you have been so focused for over a year on trying to get pregnant and then all of a sudden you have to revert back to trying NOT to get pregnant (which as it turns out really isn't that hard for us), it doesn't compute in my mind quite right. Although I think it will be a relief not to have the pressure on us and to take a break from all the 'am I pregnant or am I not' anxiety. 

But that also means waiting. Waiting before the cycle of hope can begin again. I wonder whether, when we start trying again, we'll be just as excited and hopeful as the first few months we began TTC. Or whether we'll be more realistic about what to, or rather, what NOT to expect. 

Whatever happens I have made this promise to myself, IF/WHEN I do get pregnant I am going to wear this t-shirt every single day of the pregnancy journey from http://t-shirts.cafepress.com:

And on the back I want printed: Talk about sacrifice, I gave up chocolate for this!

Every pregnant woman needs to read this

Every pregnant woman or woman planning on becoming pregnant needs to read this questionnaire to help dispel the myths about maternity care. Please forward it to any of your pregnant friends...
http://www.consumerreports.org/health/medical-conditions-treatments/pregnancy-ch/ildbirth/maternity-care/maternity-care-quiz/maternity-care-quiz.htm

Most of this information is taught in HypnoBirthing classes. One of the things I love about teaching HypnoBirthing is that I am helping to educate parents so that they go into their birth having true informed consent & so they can make educated decisions instead of fear-based ones.

http://www.awelllivedlife.net/
http://www.awelllivedlife.blogspot.com/

Hope, Dreams & Almonds

After my emotionally tumultuous day on Tuesday, I did as promised. I picked myself up and grasped hold of life with both hands. This was made all the easier by a little trip we took to check on our future. This is where our future lies, where our dreams are made:

This is our little piece of land in the foothills of the Atlas mountains where we dream of making our home. Of spending our days. Of raising our family (when they finally get here that is!).

Being there refreshes me and renews hope. Looking at the immense sky, the snow-capped mountains and the fruitful trees you can't help but reflect and think about the big life picture. So I wanted to share something special with you: Walking amongst the trees, breathing in that fresh clean air, taking it all in, I came across the almond tree... and our first almond.

And then we looked closer and there were more almonds.....

And even more trees with more almonds......

And still more....

And because my husband felt that my botanical expertise wasn't to be trusted (can't say that I blame him) he took matters into his own hands just to be sure:

Yep, it's an almond. 

Even at this stage that sweet almond-marzipan smell was so strong. Did we taste it? Yes. Though the flavour was still weak and it wasn't really a nut yet. Just a fine skin in the shape of an almond covering a clear jelly-like inside. 

It was magical and just the medicine I needed. It is the little things in life that really count.

This is where we dream of our home and of hearing the pitter-patter of our family's tiny little feet. This is our future, however that family comes about. Us & the almonds.