2022: The Year of Healing Through Faith, Hope & Love

“To heal is to touch with love that which we previously touched with fear.” 

What a journey this past year has been. Some of you may have known that I spent the last nine months growing a human. Bill and I graciously welcomed our first child together a few months ago. A handsome, happy, and healthy baby boy! But what most of you didn’t know is that my journey was not filled with rainbows, unicorns, and sunshine as pregnancy is often portrayed. My lengthy and strong commitment to health and wellbeing unfortunately did not shield me from unexpected health challenges. And although I too had the expectation that I would have a blissful, simple, and straightforward pregnancy, the reality was and is, I did not. I struggled immensely.

My journey began when I endured a missed miscarriage three months prior to our successful pregnancy. This truly shattered my heart and world. Once pregnant again, I had to look fear directly in the face. It is hard to explain to someone who hasn’t experienced miscarriage, and a missed miscarriage at that during their initial pregnancy, how that experience overshadows the joy, trust, and steadiness. 

Around six weeks pregnant, I developed a bladder infection. Generally speaking, this is fairly common during pregnancy. This was my first ever, and one that persisted the entire nine months despite my surrender to western medicine’s safe treatment efforts and my endless personal quest to find a doctor or specialist who could truly help end the discomfort more naturally. Even the naturopathic doctor/midwife I sought out wanted to treat me with antibiotics. Once again, that did not resolve my discomfort and pain. I was disheartened to say the least. I honestly had never spent so much time in doctor’s offices, researching, self-advocating, and fighting fear and discomfort. It was both physically and emotionally exhausting; not to mention the exhaustion regarding pregnancy during a pandemic. The uncertainties and fears swirling around me were insurmountable. But, what I can now gather from my experience is that living in fear robs you of joy. That chronic pain is real. And that we as a society need to have more compassion, respect, and tools for healing both. Although I leaned heavily into self-care practices rooted in the ancient modalities of Yoga, Ayurveda, and Chinese Medicine (as much as were welcomed safely during pregnancy) I still was face to face with struggle and hardship.

At thirty-five weeks I was admitted into the hospital thinking I was going into premature labor. Thankfully, this was not the case. We instead discovered that I had developed kidney stones. Who knew these little boogers unfortunately cannot be treated during pregnancy, and that their pain is almost as intense as labor pains. I was, once again, left to find ways to manage the discomfort on my own.

Then, in my final month of pregnancy, I developed severe pelvic girdle pain. It literally hurt to walk, get dressed, and just live daily life. I managed to muster through short dog walks and continued my daily commitment to stretching and breathing. However, for someone as physically active as myself, this was yet another unfortunate misfortune. My strength was clearly being tested on so many levels. I had to dig deep. I paused on teaching, creating content, and accepting private clients in an effort to fully focus my attention on my own health and healing as well as the health, healing, and safety of my unborn child. 

At thirty-nine weeks my water broke. This was a moment I had been patiently waiting for. Praying that it didn’t come too soon, but excited and eager to meet our little human. Finally about twelve hours after my water broke I was induced. My body unfortunately did not initiate labor beyond my water breaking. And, the first half of my early morning admittance to the hospital was spent watching and waiting as the on-call physician was tied up in surgery. In hindsight, the induction probably should have been done sooner as both my son and I developed fevers during delivery. So after a somewhat lengthy wait for a decision to induce, followed by twenty-something long hours of “hormonally induced” but unmedicated labor, I felt completely exhausted and defeated. Progress was moving forward but slower than we had expected. With the support, encouragement, and loving guidance of my doula and husband, I opened to the possibility of letting go, surrendering once more. Shortly after a much-needed post epidural rest and a few strong pushes, the greatest gift of my life arrived!

Out of an abundance of caution, following our feverish delivery, we ended up having a brief but extended hospital stay. A series of tests needed to be done to ensure we were infection-free. Resultingly, I was placed on a round of intravenous antibiotics and our sweet boy, thankfully, was able to remain medication-free. 

We later faced yet another challenge. Our son’s post-delivery bowel movement was delayed. So another series of blood draws, tests, and a mini procedure to ensure his bowels were functioning properly were needed. You can only imagine a newborn mother’s anxiety at this point. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we got confirmation that things were functioning properly and we were granted permission to go home. What music to our worrisome, tired, hopeful ears and hearts! I should note that we feel very grateful for the pediatric care we received while at the hospital. The mother and baby unit nurses and pediatric physicians and specialists who attended to us were kind, proactive, and held our son's health and comfort as their highest priority.

Then, for weeks following delivery, I was still experiencing severe pain in my lower abdomen. This was more than just your typical post-labor pains, especially following a vaginal delivery. So after much persistence and advocation, we discovered that I had a fragment of retained placenta. And around eight weeks postpartum, I had to go back into the hospital to have that retained product surgically removed.

Thus, as I now gently step out of my extended sacred window, I can share, reflect, and affirm with a deeper connection to the saying that the greatest gifts in life come wrapped in adversity. I can relish, unselfishly, in my personal commitment and connection to resiliency as a mother, wellness practitioner, and healer. The struggle has indefinitely gifted me abundance. I am beyond grateful that I was able to conceive and carry a child. And the idea that hardship shapes us is simply an understatement. It not only shapes us but it also defines us. It is raw and unfiltered. It helps to build our uniqueness, our character and fosters our resilience.

Therefore, as we embark on this new year, I chose to finally share my journey with you. Not for sympathy, but to let you know you are not alone. I see you. We are all humans living the human experience. We all suffer. We all feel broken at times. And most importantly, we all are resilient.

Keep surrendering, dear one. Keep staying wildly present. Keep advocating for yourself. Keep spending time daily in nature. Keep breathing and prioritizing self-care. Keep doing the things that nourish your soul. And, start greeting each day with hope, faith, and love.

Wishing you health and abundance in 2022! May you find ways this upcoming year to practice, acknowledge, and continue building resilience. In an effort to contribute, I will be accepting virtual Ayurvedic Consultations beginning January 3rd. My hope is that this new year inspires you to recommit to your personal health and healing. Learn more here.