A year ago, if a friend had told me about someone she knows
who lives this way, I would have thought, I
do not need to be friends with that girl. She sounds annoying. She lives in
Fantasy Land. She exhibits a level of self-control about which I know nothing.
So how did this happen to a person who would get winded when
going up stairs, fainted at the sight of needles and loved cheese enough to
make out with it?
It began with the running about a year ago. Philip and I
were talking more seriously about growing our little family of two, and we agreed it
would be better to start getting into shape before a pregnancy. (Little did I
know I’d have plenty of time to get
into the best shape of my life while conception eluded me.) At first, we would
walk five minutes, jog five, walk five, jog five, walk five. That’s 25 minutes
of physical activity by the way, only 10 of which were spent jogging. Eventually we
added another five-minute jogging session. Then we incrementally closed the
walking gaps. When I could jog for 20 minutes without stopping, I felt like an
Olympian.
We kept adding to the distance — another quarter mile, and
another. Now I can do 4.5 miles continuously at a pretty OK pace of 10-11
minutes per mile. If you’ve run a marathon, this probably doesn’t sound too
impressive, but if you’re Erika circa early 2011, you’re in shock at yourself.
The acupuncture and diet started much more recently — on
March 22 of this year. People had been recommending acupuncture for fertility
for months; in fact, I got the suggestion from so many people that I lost
count. I did some reading online, and it seemed that while there wasn’t much
scientific research in the way of acupuncture and trying to conceive naturally,
there was strong scientific evidence that acupuncture used in conjunction with
IVF treatments dramatically increased the success rate.
We’re in our 12th month of trying, but I’ve been
reticent to start any sort of fertility treatment. I wanted to feel like I had
tried every other option first. From the limited testing we’ve had done so far
(pelvic ultrasound, blood work, semen analysis), everything checks out as
normal. Maybe acupuncture could help us.
My New Year’s resolution was to change my lifestyle. Start
acupuncture. Try yoga. Get onto a fertility diet. I was hopeful; I was ready
for a fresh start.
Then Philip’s dad died, and life went haywire. Every
out-of-town friend and their brother had made plans to stay with us in early
2012, and between spending time with our many house guests, we were frequently
making the two-hour drive down to Frostproof to continue sorting through
Philip’s dad’s belongings. Philip was in a distant, sad emotional place, and I
mourned the arrival of two more periods alone. I privately wallowed in
self-pity, bitter that no one else had to change their diet or lifestyle to get
pregnant, let alone try to work in baby-making sex amid all the stress and grief
surrounding the death of a parent.
Finally life slowed down a hair. Our visitors left. We
returned home from a wedding weekend in Savannah. We transferred the last of
Philip’s dad’s belongings to our garage. Philip seemed to be slowly emerging
from his quiet sorrow. So I got on the phone with an acupuncturist recommended
to me by my primary-care physician.
I was initially struck with her confidence. She was very
off-hand about her prediction that I probably wouldn’t need more than five
treatments (one a week) to get my system functioning properly and get pregnant.
While I guarded my heart, it felt GREAT to talk to someone who felt she could
help me.
When I arrived for my first session, we spent an hour
talking about my entire lifestyle — diet, exercise, sleep, work, stress,
travel, periods, bowel movements, fertility tests we’d had done, how long we’d
been trying, if I charted, if I used OPKs, what vitamins I was taking. She
wanted to know everything — physical and emotional. She was approachable,
compassionate and attentive.
Then it was time for the actual treatment. I was
apprehensive about the needles, but I felt so good about taking this proactive
step toward our goal. In all, she only used three points that first time — one
just below my belly button, and one just below either knee toward the inside of
my leg. I barely felt a thing as the points went in. Then she worked on my
head, neck, stomach, chest and back using acupressure with her hands. I felt
like I was melting into the heated massage table.
She told me to tell her about any sensations I was having,
and boy, was I having sensations! I was feeling pins and needles on my
shoulders, and my legs were tingling up near my pelvis — and neither were places where points were inserted. It was WILD. She said
it was all very good and was in line with the paths my meridians travel. As she
worked, she explained some of the tenets of acupuncture and specifically of her
Japanese style. She shared why different foods are helpful and others are
harmful. She taught me a breathing exercise and explained how it would help prevent my
body from automatically reverting to a fight-or-flight stress response. It all made
sense, but it was so much information; I felt like I was only retaining a tenth
of what she was saying.
When she went to remove the points, I was disappointed,
because that meant we were wrapping up. Before I left, she commanded that I
take a hot bath with Epsom salt and equipped me with recipes and a list of
foods to eat or avoid. The biggest change: no more dairy. Because it causes
mucus, it can create a “slippery” uterus. No one wants that.
Other changes included no artificial sweeteners; no refined
sugar; no white grains; and no tomatoes, white potatoes or peppers (they can
cause inflammation). Meanwhile, I’d be adding good sources of nutrition such as
coconut water, beef broth, nuts and seeds, kale and spinach, quinoa, lentils,
fish and herbal tea.
The appointment concluded, and she warned me to expect some
kind of release that afternoon. She said my body had been so tense and pinched
and strung out that only my running and Massage Envy membership had been
keeping me hanging on by a thread. She didn’t know what the release would look
like — maybe some bleeding or a big bowel movement — but whatever it was, I
should welcome it.
I always say that with me, there’s no such as thing as TMI.
I hope you feel the same way. That afternoon, I proceeded to have diarrhea for SIX
HOURS. I didn’t even go back into work, even though it wasn’t the miserable,
crampy, clutch-my-intestines diarrhea I’m used to. It as just like my body was
going WHOOSH. Get all of that nasty badness out.
I couldn’t wait for my next treatment. Luckily, I didn’t
have to wait long. Four days later, I went back. She was a little more aggressive
with the points that time — doing the original three, plus putting one in my
hand, one in my foot and five in my ears. She also had me lay on what she
called a “biomat,” which is heated and full of small healing stones like quartz and
amethyst. I left with tiny seed pods taped to pressure points on my ears and
instructions to massage them several times a day. Yes, it’s nutty, but I am a
very compliant patient. I will try just about anything at this point. Bring it
on, lady!
My next treatment is in five more days, and I’ve been going
strong with the diet for a little over a week. It’s challenging for sure, but I
like the sense of control and hope it gives me. It’s also a new feeling to be
amazed by my own ability to sacrifice and achieve things I didn’t think I
could. I definitely think I’ll keep it up for the recommended minimum of six
weeks. But then I might allow myself one date night with a big handsome hunk of
cheese.