A Major Personal Break-Through

January 17, 2008 at 5:09 pm 2 comments

My period this month was as painful as all my periods have been after each miscarriage I’ve had. But this time I had Christiane Northrup‘s words ringing in my head, stating that the only pain women feel that isn’t trying to say something’s wrong is the main we experience in childbirth. That was making me so angry, because I couldn’t believe that my menstrual pain was my fault. It was just a physical effect of the miscarriage, right?

Well, once I stopped being angry at the situation and started asking what reason my sex organs could have for experiencing this intense pain, my mind-body told me the answer right away: I never let myself experience the physical pain of being raped and molested and until my body was allowed to process that pain it would never go away.

My anger instantly vanished and instead I was filled with love for my ovaries, vagina and clit and I told them so. I spent probably the next 20 minutes radiating love to my body “down there” and the pain was just as intense as before, but it didn’t hurt the same. And then the pain sapped away and I haven’t had any cramping since.

I don’t know if that means I’m done with this pain or if I’m just now starting to let it do it’s work, but either way I’m so grateful for finally understanding what it was trying to tell me.


Entry filed under: miscarriage, sexuality. Tags: , , .

Medicine Brother Song Tree Wisdom

2 Comments Add your own

  • 1. He Healed Me with Love « Sitting In The South  |  May 27, 2008 at 4:20 pm

    […] find out what. I’ve done that with my menstrual pain several times with varying responses. Once, the answer was that I hadn’t let myself feel pain when I had been raped, so I had to let my body feel it them. Another time, the answer was that I needed to love myself […]

  • 2. Elsa  |  December 18, 2008 at 2:17 am

    Thank you for this blog. I was googling miscarriages, as I had one in 2004 – I was carrying triplets for 7 weeks, and only realized it when I miscarried them, between 10 pm and 4 am, alone in my den while my fiancee slept in the adjoining room – then, I just wrapped the beautiful amniotic sack in white cotton and white silk, got dressed for work, walked across the street to the hospital grounds and placed them in a tree, then went to work…(my job working with street-entrenched youth)…

    I was pretty sure I was pregnant, but I was in the middle of trying to get my fiancee’s family who lived in another province to take him back as his genetic illness, Huntingtons (neurological) , was beginning to show an onset of symptoms like paranoia and obsessive compulsive behaviour, night terror and night sweats…a counsellor at the Huntington’s Clinic at our city’s main University suggested I ask his family for help, right away (my fiancee was a lawyer, he’d quit working, was staying at home saying he was writing a film script and planning a small business, and I was paying all the bills, then he started stealing money from my purse for marijuana…yes….quite toxic for me, the whole situation…)

    Needless to say, as my job of 5 years was also now coming to an end, due to government funding cuts around our Province, I was juggling whether to spend time in the doctor’s office asking about my probable pregnancy or just go day to day and see what nature would entail for me…turns out, I didn’t sleep much…my fiancee who knew I’d started contacting his family was waking me up every night pleading with me not to leave him…to stay with him…that though he’d die early, he would still be a loving partner…and I was working hard at implementing my student’s school program’s final project that I’d planned for their graduation (lot’s of overtime)…and, I kept speaking to my belly saying, “please only come if you really must…”

    In short, I consider their presence in my life a gift of beauty…and I pour as much love as I can onto my neice and newphew whenever possible.

    I may never have children, as I turned 40 this year and I’m studying legal secretarial now, will graduate in Feb. 2009 and seek work again – this time, hopefully in a long-term stable position.

    I found that it’s hard to talk to people about my experience, because most miscarriages I hear talked about in a ‘community type way’ are related to parents who are married and trying to have a child…this is not my story…but, it’s a story of life and death, none-the-less…

    How does one grieve a life that never fully came to be? – I suppose this way, quietly, in whispers, among sisters…




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