15 Years of Journals

I know I’ve been a little absent on the blog here lately, but I’m still staying busy and writing my soul.  I’ve been going through a lot of old writings – journals, Word docs, cards, song books, etc. – searching for bits of truth and insight that I can share.  Let me tell ya, I have written A LOT over the past 15 years or so.  (Yes, I have journals and writings dating back FIFTEEN years!)  So over the next few weeks, I’ll be posting the little pieces of insight I find, and I might even potentially compile them all into a book.

So what I’m going to post today is actually something that I wrote last Mother’s Day.  What I appreciate about this little snippet is that it gives me a glimpse of where I was then, which I can compare to where I am now (which is a MUCH better space regarding pregnancy).  I have a couple of other pieces about my path to prego-ness that I’ll post throughout the rest of the week.  They’re good follow ups to this one.  Enjoy!

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As I sit here this year on Mother’s Day, I can’t help but think of how I’m not a mother yet.  Deep down, I know it’s all ok.  I know that our day will come when it is right.  (To be honest, with all the stuff we have going on right now, it’s probably good that I don’t get pregnant…)  But still, there’s those days when I feel like if one more Facebook friend announces she is pregnant, I’m going to throw my laptop across the room.  That’s normal, though, right?  I mean, I’m not a terrible person for having those feelings of frustration?  It has been a year after all, and still, no baby.  As positive as I stay throughout the whole situation, I’m still human, and I still get weak.  I guess what’s the hardest to deal with is the jealousy.  It’s the one area in my life where I find myself truly envying other people.  And then I get mad for letting myself feel that way.

So I’ve been trying to let go of some bitterness that has been creeping in.  Instead of rolling my eyes and having the sarcastic “Oh great, another one…” attitude when I see someone’s proud announcement of their coming bundle of joy, I’ve been consciously stopping to smile and feel happy for them.  Most times, I’ll even say a little blessing for them.  This has helped with the envy.

One day when looking through pictures of my older brother Mike and his beautiful daughter, Evelyn Mae, I realized that though I am still a bit jealous (and, by definition, I think I always will be), it is a jealousy that makes my heart happy.  Happy for them, and happy for myself knowing that one day (in one way or another) I will have it, too.

When I woke up this morning, I must have been on the wrong side of the bed because I was just automatically cranky.  Then I just had one of those mornings where I started missing my family and friends (it is Mother’s Day, after all), and I was just down.  So I decided to just sit in bed and do some reading, and then meditate for a bit.  I got down on the floor with my pillow and sat cross-legged as usual.  I extended my arms, rested my wrists on my knees, and began breathing deep.  The main problem I have when meditating is that I can’t get myself comfortable.  My arms and back always start to hurt (which I know is because I’m incredibly out of shape).  So I started playing around with new arms positions.  I put them over my head, clasped my hands over my heart, laced my fingers by my stomach, and then found myself with both palms resting on my lower abdomen.

As ashamed of it as I am to say, I’ve never really prayed over my body before.  Yes, I’ve said quick little prayers during times of concern, and my health is always included in daily prayers and thoughts.  But I’ve never devoted time to purposefully pray over and bless my body.  So I decided to give it a try.

I rested the palms of my hands on each side of my abdomen (as if over each ovary).  I started to think about how much I let fear and anxiety take over my thoughts.  About how I spend way too much of my time having to convince myself I’m not sick or dying.  With the history of problems I’ve had with my reproductive system, I guess it doesn’t come to a surprise that every little ache and pain freaks me out and makes me paranoid.  What is that?  Another cyst?  Cancer?  Endometriosis?  Infection?  Maybe it’s my gallbladder…or my kidneys?!

On and on it goes…

I truly believe that thoughts create our reality and that constant negativity and anxiety over one’s health can indeed lead to problems and poor health.  (I also believe that positive thoughts of hope about your health can cure health problems.)  So the OCD control freak in me gets to the point that I worry my thoughts of anxiety towards my health are actually going to create the problems I am fearing.  Then I convince myself that I do have those problems and I brought them upon myself.  [Do we see a behavior pattern here, yet?? I’ve noticed that I tend to do this a lot.]

So in essence, I’m worrying that my worrying is killing me…

And it will if I let it.  But I’m not going to. 😉

I took a moment to release that fear and open myself up to good health.  I blessed my ovaries and my uterus.  I blessed them and thanked them for being so kick-ass healthy and doing exactly what they are meant to do.

I am strong.  I am healthy.  I am fertile.

That is the affirmation I tell myself daily to help ward off those negative thoughts of ill health.  Every time I feel a twinge of pain or worry I can’t have babies (hence why I’m still not prego…), I tell myself: I am strong.  I am healthy.  I am fertile.

And if I truly believe in everything I say I believe in, then it all ends there.  I declare it to be.  And so it is.

My anxious mind can now rest, and I can dwell on that in peace.