As someone who generally pursues the holistic approach to most things, I am very interested in how our mental health affects our ability to get pregnant. The current medical approach to infertility is the use of a lot of invasive tests and procedures that tend to leave couples feeling more isolated, depressed and useless than when they started. The terms used to describe individuals struggling with fertility problems, such as 'barren', chip away at already fragile self-esteem. I personally find that the medical approach to most things rarely takes into consideration the complex mind-body balance and this seems most vital when it comes to creating new life.
Take, for instance, 'unexplained' fertility problems when a couple cannot conceive for years despite nothing being 'medically' wrong with them. Sometimes, the partnership breaks down and they both go on to have children with other people (a celebrity example is Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman), indicating that they were both capable of having children but their bodies decided not to. For anyone struggling with unexplained fertility problems, I do not mean to belittle your experience or make you mistrust your body more than you may already do. What I am saying is that often there is something deep within us that we have to process, let go of or confront before we are ready to be parents.
I know I am pretty new to this fertility quest lark compared to some old-timers, but I am increasingly aware of the need to process some deep-seated guilt and sadness from my late teens before my womb is ready to carry a child. It is amazing what we can store on a cellular level in areas of our body. I have had clients who have really cried and released some deep, old emotions after deep-tissue massage - this kind of stuff can get trapped in the body and fester there, sometimes causing more serious problems like cancer. In most cases, people who come to me with bodies like rock are unable to let go of things and fear letting people get too close to them. They often have a jolly, bright facade that hides this deeper malaise but as soon as I touch their back, it tends to radiate trapped anger, resentment, grief or whatever they are holding on tight to.
So, back to getting pregnant. Girls (and boys) are generally brought up in our culture with only a fleeting education on their sexuality, mostly revolving around some product-pushing Tampax lady saying that the only option is to stick some bleached, chemical-ridden, TSS-causing, landfill-filling bit of tat up inside our bodies. We don't really have words that celebrate our burgeoning sexuality throughout our teens, instead we have words heavy with hatred to describe our most precious parts. Because we aren't taught how sacred our bodies are, and how beautiful, unique and vital our sexual organs should be, there's a tendency for teenagers to fall into bed at the first drunken opportunity. Talk to any adults about losing their virginity and it is pretty much an accepted norm for it to be an awful, embarrassing and at times, horrific, experience. Not just because of a fumbly condom-inside-out moment, but because emotionally they didn't feel ready, and somewhere deep down, on some subliminal level, they know that it should have been more special than that. Sharing our bodies with others should be special, should be sacred. Not that I'm advocating monogamous, wait-til-you're-married relationships for everyone by any means; sexual experimentation can be fun and exciting and can be a wonderful part of growing up if approached with a healthy love and respect for your own body and that of your partner. But too often it isn't - it's about sex with someone you just met at a party when you're off your head and feeling depressed and soulless after. Maybe our bodies remember these violations? And what about sexual abuse, incest and rape survivors too? These deep, deep sadnesses build up in certain parts of our bodies and sometimes it is hard and frightening to let them go.
This is a curious subject for me because I always felt certain that all of this ('this' being our current inability to get pregnant) is happening for a reason. I had a Eureka moment last night thinking about the things I needed to address and let go of emotionally before I really, truly am ready to carry a child in my womb. The tough bit is how to do it! I started having counselling for the first time in my life a few months back and was able to release lots of emotional stuff. In the end I finished my sessions because I found my counsellor's incessant requests that I get myself a GP in case I lost the plot a little off-putting. She simply couldn't understand that I don't want, or currently feel that I need, any intervention from a doctor. I want to search within and get some answers, not go seeking them elsewhere and absolve responsibility for the healthy working of my body. I have a few ideas I am ready to pursue so will post how I get on.
In this same vein though, I am interested whether we carry deep memory of events during our own conception, our mother's pregnancy and our birth? R's parents had a rocky and difficult relationship prior to his conception and she had several miscarriages. R seemed determined to stick around when she got pregnant with him but his birth was traumatic and did nothing to ease the difficulties in his parents' tumultuous marriage. They divorced, in a flurry of recrimination, when he was 11 and have not spoken since. I began to wonder, after his sperm tests came back, whether his body, on a cellular level, feared creating the same problems and refused to begin a new life until they are properly addressed (on an emotional level, by R dealing with his own grief at his parents' difficult marriage - going to an all-boys school meant he didn't tell anyone they'd divorced until he met me 7 years later). When I put this to him he looked at me as if I were a little mad, and maybe I am. Yet it seems to me we are a complex mix of our physical, emotional and spiritual selves and none exists in isolation.
To say we can fix infertility with drugs and surgery (our current medical model) seems to me to be looking at one piece of the jigsaw and wondering how to make a picture out of it.
On the plus side, however, R has taken to talking to anyone who will listen about his sperm tests which is great. If we can get people talking about fertility problems and it becomes less of a taboo subject, then we are a lot closer to looking at it through an holistic perspective.
Hooray! Good news! R's results finally came back to us after his second test on September 18th. There is an improvement! Still not great and quite a few unhealthy swimmers but at least it shows that there is potential for change. We went away for a lovely uplifting holiday to refresh our spirits the day after he had his test so had to keep calling from abroad to see if they were ready. On about the fifth day away, the secretary at the GP surgery said that the doctor wanted to speak to R but wasn't available, could R call back tomorrow. R was very gloomy after this and expected the worst so I did everything to bolster his spirits. That evening we had a very involved conversation about adoption, we ended up getting very excited about it and preparing to start our home study (with social workers, first step of adoption process) as soon as we returned.
