The Singing Bowl

Like most obedient infertile women, I go to an acupuncturist. I’ve been seeing her for close to two years and I’ve come to realize acupuncture is some of the best medicine I’ve ever received. So when I headed in for my visit on Thursday, my first post-failed IVF visit, I was greeted with a warm hug and lots of love from my practitioner. Not only is she awesome, but she’s also an IVF survivor. Yes, she went through all of the hoops and now has a ten month old. So I appreciate not only her professionally but also personally because she’s been where I am right now. And she gets it all.

She said she had been thinking about my treatment all day and thought that doing something different, doing something more focused on grief than fertility, would actually help me more as I moved through our failed IVF. Not one to turn down a knowledgeable person, I hopped on the table, assumed a new position (face-down) and let the fun begin. It was crazy.

First she put in a ton of needles, then she used some white angelica oil, then she struck the singing bowl, and that’s when the magic happened: my mother made an appearance. She’s dead. I know I have taken a lot of medication lately, but even my acupuncturist saw her. Wild! I was asked to focus on white light on my left side and to send my grief away to my left as the vibrations rang through the needles. My arm tingled, my heart pumped, my mother was there to catch it all. Seriously. Then I was asked to focus on gold light and the tingling faded along with everything else, including my mom. Funny thing is, the tightness in my neck was gone, too, as were my feelings of sorrow and self-pity. It’s like my mother just came and took them from me. My dad always tells me to talk to her, to ask her for help. So while she wasn’t as helpful as I would have liked during IVF, she clearly stepped it up for afterwards. Much appreciated.