Two months ago, I met with an acupuncturist for the first time in over a year. The last time I saw one, it was for the cysts that appeared during my pregnancy in February of 2010. After I miscarried, they left me with a severe amount of pain and the only thing western medicine wanted to do for me was put me on birth control. Not exactly something I wanted to do considering we were trying to have a baby. It worked. The cysts started to go away and I got pregnant again a few months later.
Fast forward to this year and another miscarriage, and I felt the desire to go again. I needed to know I was doing everything I could to prepare my body for another pregnancy and hopefully get the next one to stick.
Some friends of mine had been urging me to go to this particular acupuncturist for a while, so I finally made the call. He happens to be in the same exact office as my therapist, so that makes it an building devoted just to my healing. I figured it was a sign.
The first time I saw him, it was the week of my due date and anniversary of my second miscarriage. It was near impossible to control the tears, as I’m sure you can imagine. But I felt like it was the perfect time to try and make a change.
After an initial conversation of my history and my reason for seeing him, I hopped up on the table. While he felt my pulse, he explained to me what causes a miscarriage according to Chinese medicine. He started by describing how they view each organ with it’s own personality, but each working towards the same goal of keeping the body alive. Among them all, the liver is kind of the big shot. The liver helps controls the blood supply and determines where is should flow, and it plays a key role in a pregnancy. When a woman miscarries, it’s because the liver feels the pregnancy is compromising the blood supply to the rest of the organs and shuts the pregnancy down. So in other words, it believes the pregnancy is threatening the health of the rest of the body, and it does something about it.
What a jerk!
He asked me a few more questions regarding my liver, trying to put the puzzle pieces together on why my liver would do that. One of those questions was what my relationship with my dad is; because apparently, the liver is a good indication of how you feel about your father. I am very lucky to have a great dad that I have a wonderful relationship with, so for me, that wasn’t it. But I did find that rather amusing that various relationships in your life take a toll on specific parts of your body. (I wonder who is in charge of the reproductive system, because whoever that is, I need to mend that quickly.)
In essence, our goal will be to trick the liver into thinking that at around 8 weeks, that the pregnancy is actually beneficial to my body, rather than detrimental like it has thought in the past.
He had no idea what he had given me with this simple idea. For over a year I had been angry at the fact that during my last pregnancy, I had spent so much time envisioning a healthy and inviting environment in my womb for my baby, and it did nothing. I had honestly believed it would make a difference, only to be proven completely wrong. What was the point then? I had thought. But now, if this were true, it all made sense. I had done the right thing all along. Maybe my positive thinking had given the baby a healthy place to grow, but that bully liver took over and stopped it.
I could finally let myself off the hook.
I realize to some, this may sound like a bunch of crap. But I’m willing to believe him. And there was something specific that really convinced me:
During each ultrasound in the past year, every technician or doctor has told me I have a great looking uterus.* While my acupuncturist was doing his exam, he looked into my ear and said, “Well, your uterus looks great!” Besides the fact he was looking in my ear and could see my uterus and that in itself is just crazy, that was all I needed to hear. I could believe him.
There’s hope my uterus will allow a pregnancy to thrive.
I think he’s going to be able to help me. I truly believe in his power. And at this point, I’ll do anything.
Even if that means dressing head to toe in green (it’s the color of the liver) or calling my dad every day to tell him I love him, I’ll do it. So far, Western medicine isn’t proving very much to me on its own. I think I’ll trust the man that can see my uterus through my ear.
Hey there, Dad! Why aren’t you looking awfully handsome today! Have I told you how much I love you?
*Not quite sure what a great looking uterus entails…but I’m beginning to question if they’re all just judging the book by it’s cover.