What Infertility and Perimenopause Have Taught Me about Loving My Body

By March 14, 2016 Uncategorized 8 Comments

The intensity of this super New Moon in Pisces on top of a solar eclipse last week made me very emotional and reflective. I know I was not alone in this as every single one of my clients had some sort of emotional breakdown and subsequent breakthrough last week.

My breakthrough came in the form of an unexpected request from my ex-boyfriend to have lunch. This led me to really examine what’s been going on in my life for the past month.

As I shared with you a few weeks ago, my father’s birthday hit me hard this year. I began dreaming of him, of past romantic relationships, of weird transpirings in my current romantic relationship that haven’t – and likely wouldn’t – ever happen. None of them seemingly connected; yet, at some level I knew that they were. It was like my father was trying to communicate with me in my dreams, but I couldn’t figure out what he was saying.

The random text from my ex-boyfriend, whose birthday is a week after my father’s, made me realize I needed to do some soul searching.

The images came in – memories, crashing like waves on the shore of my life.

First, I was shown scenes of all of my failed fertility treatments (4 in total) and the surgeries I’ve had for my endometriosis (6 of those). Next, I was shown how I have put my needs aside in romantic relationships in the past, my codependency issues highlighted in living color. Finally, I was shown something that never happened in real life – a meeting between my ex-boyfriend and my father and I pondered the Piscean similarities between the two.

I then asked my Soul to show me how these images were all connected. The answer was crystal clear: my “not enoughness” issues (the ones I have mostly healed, but still crop up occasionally) are generational in nature and revolve around infertility. You see, my father desperately wanted a boy. After my mother’s numerous miscarriages, he got me. My ex-husband desperately wanted a daughter. He got me (meaning I never was able to bear a child).

I learned from my mother that if you can’t give your man what he wants, you have to take really good care of him (in essence, mother him) so he doesn’t leave you (enter codependency). The problem is: that never works. Codependent relationships are not healthy ones. My mother ‘kept’ my father in the sense that he never went through with any of the many times he filed for divorce, but she couldn’t keep him from straying. I couldn’t make either my ex-husband or my ex-boyfriend happy, no matter how much mothering I did. Why? Because it was never my job to mother them; it was my job to mother me (more on that later).

Finally, I asked my Soul to show me what I needed to do. “It's the dream…it's time to let go of the dream…,” my Soul replied. The floodgates opened; my tears fell freely as my heart let go. I mourned the end of an era; the end of my mothering years. I faced, once and for all, my inability to have children, my inability to achieve my dream.

I was diagnosed with endometriosis at 18, and told at 21 that I would never be able to have children. Despite all the evidence against it, I hadn’t ever really given up the dream. I honestly thought I had, but it turns out I hadn’t. At some level, I still wanted a family. I wanted the husband, the daughter and son, and the white picket fence. I wanted what I felt was my God-given right and had been denied. I wanted the life my parents never had, but desperately longed for.

I could hold onto the old dream and make it a reality – via adoption. Or I could close the door on that dream and step into the next phase of my life. I chose the latter. It was time to say goodbye to my mothering years, so that I could enter my Queen years.

I envisioned that I was on a path and reached a fork in the road. I asked my Soul to show me my dream – I needed to know what I was letting go of. So I let myself walk down that path of my dream – the husband, the little boy and little girl I had so desperately wanted, the happy home I envisioned we’d have. As I watched all of this unfold, I let the tears flow as my mind played out the dream I knew would never become a reality.

When I was done, I walked backwards, leaving the dream, the vision, behind as I walked. When I got back to where I started, I envisioned a door. I closed that door – the door to my dream – and I didn’t look back.

Next, I asked my Soul to show me the path I am meant to walk; my Soul’s journey. Here I saw myself in my current life phase – embracing the Queen archetype that I am meant to embody.

As I enter the next phase of my life, I see how the mothering instinct needs to turn within. I need to make sure I take care of myself – fill my own cup – so that I can be of greater service to the world. You see, I have a message: a powerful one, but I can’t be the vehicle for that message if I don’t walk the walk and take my own advice. I need to show women, through example, that you can be of service and live your passion and purpose without depleting yourself.

So what is this path I am embarking on as I move into my Queen years? My path is to teach and mentor today’s women so that they don’t make the same mistakes I made. I want to let women know that they don’t need to sacrifice themselves or lose themselves – to a man, a job, a family. That self-love and self-care are essential ingredients to a happy, fulfilled life. I want to help women find themselves, so that they can speak their truth and walk in their power sooner rather than later. I want women to love and accept themselves for who they are – not when they lose 10 pounds or achieve some fleeting societal standard of beauty. I want all women to be able to live their purpose and create a life of their dreams.

8 Comments

  • Katrina Naseem says:

    The road to acceptance can be long and difficult with the outer voices of society and the inner voices of criticism. It is an ongoing process for me. Thank you for sharing.

  • Jean says:

    Awesome, powerful and inspiring… Thank you for opening profoundly and sharing deeply from your heart. A fabulous reminder that I need to stand in my Queen Jean power and make Sacred SelfCare a priority!

  • Chrystine says:

    Your story so resonates with me..all the miscarriages, the fertility treatments, a hysterectomy after a still birth etc. Finally deciding to adopt twice. Trying to achieve the dream. Now 25 years later, dealing with birth mothers and where is my mother place in all this? A divorce because I could no longer continue to mother my husband and his depression and not have my needs met. I realize I have never closed the door on the dreams or mourned the losses of the dreams. I keep up the powerful, independent woman facade and am learning to come into my feminine..my softness. Taking the leap to get to know me..what do I like, want, what brings be joy and passion. Thank you so much for your authenticity and your voice – to help give me an example to follow.

    • Mary Pritchard says:

      I’m so sorry, Chrystine. So often we sacrifice ourselves and feel like we have nothing to show for it. As you get to know you, ask yourself what lessons you learned about yourself through all of your grief. Know that whatever you’ve been through has only made you a better version of you and you are so much stronger and braver than you know! Much love!

  • Wen says:

    Thank you Mary for your honesty, vulnerability and courage. Like you I had to release the parenting dream. Thank you for reminding me that its ok to direct that nurturing inward.

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