Because I’m human … sometimes πŸ˜œ

Yesterday was an interesting day. It ended in frustration at what I perceive to be the inefficiency of the health system.

This morning was also interesting. After going to bed very late (happens because I finish work so late), I woke this morning with a strong message from the universe.

The lump in my breast (more than likely a benign fibroamenoid), the smashed thumb and the smashed car – all on the left side – are signs to let go of needing to control and be in control.

A shock, I know lol. I’m usually so trusting 😳

And, that message is right. Life has a fluidity that, when trusted, leads us to exactly where we are meant to be, in peace. I guess it’s similar to having faith in God. But, different too.

I arrived for my appointment on time. I was quizzed about cancelling the mammogram. It was accepted. I was relieved.

I had the ultrasound. Nothing unexpected. A big lump on my left breast, near the surface, very obvious. The routine questions:

When did you discover it? How long do you think it has been there? Do you have a family history of breast cancer? Any cancer? When was your last mammogram? Do you have the slides?

My last mammogram was in my twenties when I had been hit by a student throwing something and it resulted in a lump. So, no, I do not have the slides. In fact, never received the slides.

No history of any cancer.

I found it two and a half weeks ago. I hadn’t noticed it during my last self-exam. No, I don’t remember exactly when that was, the last three months or so.

Why didn’t you come earlier?

I booked in with the doctor and it took me a week to get an appointment. Then, I immediately booked in here and today was your first free appointment. I called eight days ago to book in.

Oh. And giggles, God love her.

Then the doctor came in. Felt the lump. Looked at the scans. Asked the questions. Explained that whilst he is fairly certain it’s a fibroamenoid, he is concerned that it grew suddenly when usually they are with you since menstruation starts. I mentioned the IVF for five years. Faces changed and ohs were emitted.

Yep. IVF – the gift that keeps giving.

Again, for me, a lesson in trust over control. One I think I’ll still be learning on my death bed lol.

Then, half naked, that gross gel over my chest, Why did you opt out of the mammogram?

I gave my reasons.

I don’t want to pressure you. It’s your choice, it’s your body. But …

I got so frustrated. I know enough to know I didn’t want it, but I can’t argue with a doctor. Ended up with the mammogram too.

Frustrated with my lack of balls here. And, that frustration lasted until this morning’s message.

I’m at peace now. Wish I’d been dressed and standing for that argument. There’s a vulnerability that is disarming on a table half dressed. But, it is what it is.

I am a work in progress. Constantly evolving and learning.

I’ll be fine though – I know that for sure.

Pic 1 – visual metaphor – Tina yesterday between scans lol

Pic 2 – nice view behind the visual metaphor

Pic 3 – the sunrise of illumination and trust this morning

πŸ˜‰ yep, I’m crazy lol

IVF Healing

There will always be the tiniest twinge in my heart when someone tells me they are pregnant. Always.

I think though, that would be the case regardless of whether I had tried to conceive or not. Regardless of my own infertility.

I am at the point now where I am very grateful that people close to me choose to share their news with me. I think I’m at the point where I am almost normal. As normal as I could be lol.

I think the twinge would exist anyway because we always question, in some moments, whether a different path would have been better. Well, actually, I don’t question that anymore. I can see the paths I have followed to lead me here. I am grateful for them. I think I am beginning to fulfil my human potential.

I think the twinge is the emotional memory of loss. Whilst I am grateful I never carried to term, I do think of the child I miscarried. A few times each year really. I think how life could have been different for me. And, without being callous, I do believe my life is in a more suitable place for who I am.

Not being a birth mother enabled and empowered me to rebirth my life, albeit not by conscious choice. I like my transition. I like that I’ve travelled. I like that I’m learning and growing. I like that I meet wonderful people. I like that I’m steering this ship.

There is life after failing to become a mother to my own child. There is good life. It has taken a long long time to appreciate this, but I have definitely arrived here now.

I am grateful for life.

Anniversaries and Endings

Today is the anniversary of my miscarriage. I feel it every year. This year has been no different. I am going to Demartini it before the next one.

Earlier this week, I decided I needed to do something for myself tonight to honour me and movement forward. I am attending a local Red Tent Women’s Circle. I’m nervous – new people and no idea what to expect – but it feels right and it’s about saying yes to every pull and every calling.

A short post. My head has been processing so much. I am going to be writing a series of reflection posts this coming week to make up for my absence.

Anyway, to all of the women I know and love, who have also endured baby loss, much love.

A Rollercoaster of Emotion

Well, it has been a while. Today, my brain won’t let me do anything else until I have blogged. Not sure I am quite ready to put down the emotional rollercoaster that is my brain every year at this time, but meh. What can you do. I must blog so that I can achieve other things lol.

I cried myself to sleep last night. Unexpectedly.

A friend of mine had commented on a Facebook post by Em Rusciano. Em was due to give birth yesterday, but miscarried earlier in her pregnancy. It was such a heartfelt post, something resonated, and I just released. No prize for guessing what the next thing will be to work on when I return to therapy in January. I will, under guidance and not by myself, Demartini the mother out of my miscarriage. This morning I awoke feeling emotionally hungover. I can feel the cogs turning in my mind, a lot of processing happening, I can’t access most of it yet.

I head back to my permanent teaching position in ten sleeps. Yes. I am counting down. Why do we do that to ourselves?!

I have had a phenomenal year. My goal was to heal from the investigation, and for the most part, I have. I do not think I carry any anger anymore, especially towards the people that I used as a symbol for all that went wrong last year (and not the people you would expect). I feel quite calm about returning to work from that perspective. However, this year has really solidified for me the people that regard me as a concept and those that value me. This is a good thing moving forward.

I carry concerns that I will fall into past patterns at work upon my return. I have no desire to be the person I was when I left, almost a year ago. I no longer desire to mentor any adults in the workplace; I no longer want to be the ‘go to’ person for all and sundry; I no longer want the long hours and excessive workload, watching those that I have supported drive through those gates to liberation before me.

My life has moved. I have moved. My values have changed. I am no longer the person that I was; I have liberated myself from the cage I had imprisoned myself in.

I think I felt a lot of shame and a lot of guilt. I had always wanted to be a teacher. I didn’t stop to think that teaching takes many forms and doesn’t necessarily just happen in a classroom. I was, and am, grateful for all of my years in formal education. I grew into myself, forged new paths, and inspired and empowered many. My legacy in education may not have reached award status, but my impact has been significant. So, I felt guilty thinking I may have outgrown it, shame that I wasn’t being grateful by needing to move away from it.

One of my clients had to watch a TED Talk to use as a related text for an assessment on “Discovery”. We were deconstructing it on Wednesday. It spoke to me on so many different levels.

Emilie Wapnick’s “Why Some Of Us Don’t Have One True Calling”

It sort of sums me up. I think I am a multipotentialite. I am a teacher, but I think my main calling, and this has been a recurring theme in how I teach, what I teach, and in who I am as a teacher, is that of healer. This year, even in my tutoring business, what I am really doing, ultimately doing, is healing the fragments within all of us that we carry with us every day. My multipotentials come in the myriad of activities I have engaged in through teaching and outside of teaching. I am always doing many things.

So, the shame and guilt I have felt have given way (or are in the process of giving way to) an acceptance that in our society, living and moving unexpectedly, requires courage. And, I am courageous.

When you are unhappy in life, and we all have moments – mine just became a long term series of moments, it is imperative that you do something to change it. It takes courage, even to mix it up a little, let alone to take leave to see what else is out there. I have always said that all change takes twenty seconds of courage. Thank you eternally, We Bought A Zoo.

We can all do twenty seconds.

It will take the same courage to go back, to be authentically me, to stand by the changes I have made this year, and to remember that I am worth putting me first. And, I can do it; I know I can.

This year has been successful beyond measure, a true legacy to my friend Natalie. It took me a while to make my promise to you real, but I will live with passion and energy. I will not waste my life, because I know how much you would have given to still be here breathing and living yours.

I firmly believe that our souls find peace when we are walking the path we are supposed to walk. My soul had been restless and scared for years. She liberated herself this year and she will not go backwards.

I do not know what the future holds for me. I know that I return to my school full time in a week (ten sleeps) and then five days a fortnight next year. I know that my tutoring business is going to be fine (most of my clients have already re-booked for next year – humbling and surprising to me – such is my naivete, and I have new clients booking). I know that the outline and focus for my book found its shape yesterday. I know that I have some ideas for an online business to source and build during January. I know that I am excited to start programming for my school students and to be back in my classroom next year.

I am moving forward. I am where I am meant to be. I am not stagnating again. I will continue to wholly love and breathe, embracing change and the moment with passion and wonder that I could be just this blessed.

I should stop there. It was inspiring and empowered and strong. However, this post is a true example of my brain, my rollercoaster. Be grateful you don’t live in it lol.

Much love …

Emotional Congestion

I am waking up every morning with either a head cold starting or a headache. I am Demartini-ing everything that comes up lol. My body is manifesting symptoms to keep me from sliding. I become conscious and I nurture myself.

Whilst away in Manly for thirty six hours, I finished (almost perfect) Chapter One of my book. It is about the context that lead to this healing year. There were potential emotional charges throughout it: physically damaging childhood, emotional abuse, sexual abuse, IVF, last year’s investigation.

As I wrote, I found that I was using the Demartini method as I went to dissolve the charges. It became a reflex. I shared this with Renee; I was so surprised and so happy that it was happening.

Changing the narrative is empowering and makes it so much easier to write.

At one point, on the way back to the unit, Renee (unintentionally) made a comment along the lines of all women fulfilling purpose by bearing children. Six months, even a month ago, this would have caused a twinge of emotion (failure/regret/loss) within me. Yesterday, it just elicited a facetious response, but more significantly, there was no emotional charge for me. I had to assure Renee I was fine, and I truly was.

Every step, every event, every single thing in my life has brought me to where I am right now, and right now, my life is charmed.

I am not wealthy, but I have enough, most of the time. I am healing and I am happy. I am surrounded and immersed in love always, my own and the love of others. I look after myself and I am very kind to myself. I am kind to others. I feel light. I feel fulfilled. I am creating my ideal life. I am blessed. I am grateful for all that has lead me here.

A human cannot ask for more.

Waking Up: More IVF Resolution

It’s 7:30am. I’ve been awake for two hours.

I meditate every night before I go to sleep. And, what I mean by that, is that I am asleep within minutes of putting the meditation on; I usually don’t get beyond the first few breaths and comfortable position lol. So, I also meditate when I wake. This morning I didn’t because I was lathered in kisses from an excited puppy before my eyes were even open. However, I still practiced gratitude and set my intentions for today.

It’s a glorious way to start the day: in calm and at peace, lavished by love.

I have set today’s work, put the washing on, stripped the bed, organised my healing work, done the dishes, watered the plants, and dissolved the emotional charges on my failed IVF procedures (started yesterday).

The benefits of doing IVF:

~ I was enabled to support others in their journey

~ I have no regrets about not trying

~ I felt the excitement of selecting donors, loved the many needles, loved the routine, loved the process, loved learning, loved the promise

~ greater empathy for the struggles of pregnancy and miscarriage

~ I experienced another version of myself

The drawbacks of doing IVF:

~ I didn’t give birth

~ I miscarried

~ I was a different person for a few years

~ I struggled in alone-ness

The benefits of not holding the pregnancy and giving birth:

~ I just worry about me and my fur kids

~ I travel

~ I complete learning courses

~ I meet new and incredible people all of the time

~ I am free

~ I am soul happy and fulfilled

~ I started my businesses

~ I reignited my passion for teaching through tutoring

~ I still impact a whole heap of people’s lives positively

~ I am healing all of my baggage and have the time to do it

~ I can be selfish

The drawbacks of not holding the pregnancy and giving birth:

~ I have not been a birth mum this incarnation; however, I am a mother (albeit a bad one a lot of the time) to Amanda and a mother spirit to countless others

I am grateful for the experience, and I am equally grateful I didn’t become a birth mother.

I am feeling a deep sense of blessing, love and gratitude again. This is such a powerful method for bringing balance.

I need to dissolve the charge on the miscarriage. That will be my next venture. Some of it will be similar, but I need to look at the balance of support in that one too. The universe always provides.

Now, I’ve blogged too, and it’s only 7:52am.

Winning.

Have a great day!

πŸ™πŸ»πŸ¦‹

Letting Go: Failed IVF, the Investigation, Fear and Control

Hi. My name is Tina and I am a recovering control freak.

As a child, I felt so out of control so much of the time, that as an adult I have tried to control everything.

I figured that if I had control, life would be good and I would become blissfully happy. I have spent my entire adult life controlling or trying to control everything. I have never really just let go.

Until now.

Thank you, Uluru, for your sacred healing energy that infused a trust for the divine into my soul. I am still, still. There is a calm and a peace in my depths that tranquilises any fear or anxiety that may arise.

I am very zen.

And as a result, obstacles are dissolving.

I only know this because I know the other side, too intimately.

For the best part of five years I tried to control falling pregnant and having a baby. When I did fall pregnant, my fear of not having control expunged the foetus from my body.

This was an opportunity to learn a strong lesson, that I failed to learn. The lesson was that I needed to trust the higher powers, whatever and whoever they are. I needed to trust the flow of life and the contract I made with myself prior to my birth into this incarnation. I needed to trust, full stop.

I then didn’t trust my family and friends to be there for and with me, and I tried to control that too. And so, I was alone.

Fear is a great controller. Broken, from failing to control everything, fear seeped into the wounds and kept me bound. I couldn’t move forward, or even see behind me. There was just the moment, and not in a zen way.

Failing at pregnancy, I turned to fostering. Again, trying to control, I wasn’t enough; my reason for fostering wasn’t enough. I was confused and broken, belittled and worthless. Again.

All the while, I was being bullied at work, reliving aspects of my childhood I thought I had resolved years before. I was used by people whom I trusted. I was belittled and betrayed. I tried to fight back without conflict, with understanding and compassion I told myself, but really, my fighting was fear manifested. I tried to control from a very weak and inauthentic place, and that resulted in poor choices.

The fear resulted in a ten month long investigation. Ten months of fear and anxiety, and a strong, visceral reminder that I control nothing. Subconsciously this fed the I am worthless narrative I had been telling myself my whole life. My desire and need for control was really just me trying to feel like I was worth something and trying to prove that to everyone else.

“I’m pregnant, look everyone. I belong. I am normal. I am one of you.”

“I’m a head teacher, look everyone. I belong. I’m normal. I am one of you.”

“I’m a foster parent, look everyone. I belong. I’m normal. I’m one of you.”

Years ago, at a crossroads professionally, I went to a medium. She acknowledged my crossroads. She told me my two alternatives. Promotion at work, or book signings as a healer and teacher.

Fear, manifested as control, kept me bound, until the investigation and then India. Prior to the investigation, the universe had started to untie my bounds. I had paid my deposit for India. I had completed many natural healing courses. I had registered a business name and received an ABN.

Last year, paradoxically, I had my worst professional year and my best. I was amazing in the classroom; I was exemplary. I was an amazing mentor slash healer. I loved teaching and being with the kids. But, my life and my soul fell apart.

I was forced to relinquish control. I needed to find trust that I was being redirected. I was coming home.

But, in the midst of anxiety and fear, I couldn’t see this. Almost a year after the investigation concluded, I can see it. Clearly. And today, I can feel it. Freedom. Bliss. Purpose. Fulfillment.

I am a healer. I am a teacher. I am a writer. More than that, I am me. A recovering control freak, a survivor of childhood dysfunction, and a braver scaredy cat.

πŸ™πŸ»πŸ¦‹

?

I had my surgery today. I was okay with it all when I posted yesterday. Mostly okay. My wonderful gynaecologist confirmed the surgery after 9 last night. I had a moment. I had to be at Liverpool Private by 11 this morning. Earlier than originally anticipated. That required changes in plans. 

I cried. I felt so sorry for myself. So sorry for myself that I didn’t avail myself of any offers of help that had been offered by many different people. So sorry for myself I just wanted to feel like a victim and blame the world. It was emotionally just too hard and I didn’t understand and why so I reverted to my two year old self. 

I’m an idiot. 

By quarter to ten I had pulled my head in, spoken sense to myself, all too late. My tantrum disempowered myself, ironically when I wanted control. Common trend of behaviour for me when I feel powerless (but are we really ever powerless? No.) and behaviour that I do not respect in myself. 

It is so easy to play victim and become petulant and hate the world. It is harder for me to accept that it is okay to rely on other people sometimes. And this is a trust issue, stemming way back to my very early childhood. 

I’m 46 now. I’m no longer a child. And I dictate my life’s trajectory. Last night I forgot this. I’m shaking my head at my behaviour with a wry grin. Don’t panic. I am being kind to myself and cutting myself some slack. And I know that my surgery is laden with grief about my failed attempts to become a birth mum. 

Because I barely slept. And when I did, I processed. So I woke up feeling nervous but better about it. Contemplated texting my ff to ask if she could drive me but decided I was okay with the bus and train. I had to trust that I was okay even though I thought it might be nice to talk to someone. 

The universe will always conspire to provide what we need. 

First train was cancelled and an old friend happened to be catching the same train so we talked and talked and talked. Thank you, Anne. 

The walk was easy. I was calm. At peace. 

I was admitted. My blood pressure was good. My sugars were okay. I’d been through this before for my egg retrievals. And then I got it. 

The tantrum was the memory of all that came before. Three times I’ve been in hospital for procedures. Three times I woke to find a number written on my hand (eggs retrieved). Three times it came to naught ultimately. 

Once, it resulted in a miscarriage with lots of blood. That ultimately resulted in my last bout of long term bleeding. That time of my life hurt me a great deal. I still think of the child that would have been. 

Don’t get me wrong. I’m in a good place with my childlessness. But I’m also conscious my life is different now because of that. 

I was lying in my bed outside of the theatre for over an hour. The anaesthetist had been caught up somewhere. I was completely at peace. I gave myself a reiki and focused on breathing and being present. I could hear the tinny sound the hands of the clock made and so I counted the seconds in lots of five. 

And I watched them tick over. 

Occasionally my mind moved to other thoughts, contemplating not terrorizing myself, about life. What if I died on the table. Had I lived a happy life. Would I be at peace. Resoundingly, yes. I have no will. I know my pets would be looked after. Would there be custody fights. I haven’t left a copy of all my passwords anywhere. No one knows who has keys. It was interesting. 

And then I’d come back and count again. 

Nurses came and went. I had to repeat answers to the same mundane questions. Changing nurses. Changing shifts. My lovely doctor laughed with me; I hadn’t eaten since last night and it was now well after one. Concern over my sugars but not re-tested because the new nurse didn’t listen to the previous nurse. Death could be a reality. New anaesthetist. Surgery done. 

Recovery. 

I love coming out from anaesthetic. Very sore vagina. Lots of blood. Discomfort. 

Panadeine forte. 

Winning. 

An old Asian man in recovery next to me. Beautiful soul and smile. Shift change. Relatives rung. Food provided. Time to get dressed. 

I walked past his chair. He said, “You can walk.”

I smiled, threw my hands in the air, and said, “It’s a miracle.” 

We laughed. 

He walked past me, arms in the air. He said, “I can walk.”

I laughed, “Another miracle!”

He namaste’d me. 

Gold. 

My fertility is done. I have a Mirena IUD. Five years. I’m waiting for the no period. I’ll bleed heavily for a few days, maybe a week. My results will be back within two weeks. Hopefully all will be good. Hopefully the mass wasn’t cancer. 

At any rate, I think I’m still a little high. 

I’m going to bed. 

Such is LifeΒ 

An interesting day, today. I had to have an ultrasound for my upcoming surgery to ensure all is okay with my gall bladder and then needed to go to the gynaecologist for a service. Appointments away from home and close enough together yet far enough apart to not bother coming home. 

As I am prone to do, I also arrived to both appointments early which interestingly resulted in me being seen earlier than my appointments; a rarity to be sure. First went smoothly. Picked up the images a little while ago. Second one threw me a curve ball. 

I had internal and external ultrasounds done a few weeks ago due to ongoing bleeding. My doctor wanted to rule out the cancers and horrible stuff. I took the images with me. My gynaecologist looked at them. 

No service required.

Hospital it is. As soon as possible before I travel to the United States in a couple of weeks. 

Trying a curette first. Inserting Mirena. If unsuccessful, lasering everything. If unsuccessful, hysterectomy. 

Day surgery. Fifteen minute procedure. An hour recovery. Home. 

She’s trying to book it for tomorrow afternoon. 

We both giggled at the irony of this IVF repeat failure reproductive system at forty six still being so fertile that even the gynaecologist said I was years and years away from menopause: life’s cruel ironies. After IVF I’m at higher risk of developing some type of cancer in my reproductive organs, especially endometrial cancer. 

Who knew. I think I vaguely recall reading that in my own research earlier on during that process. Meh. 

I always say, IVF is the gift that keeps giving. I just don’t wish it on anyone. 

As a result of those two appointments and having to wait around, I went to The Square to hang. Well, after my first appointment which I had to fast for, I really went there for breakfast, and just in the knock of time, my sugars were going out and I started to get the shakes. But, I also ran into a few ex students and friends, made through teaching. 

Man, if teaching isn’t the most powerful profession in reaching people I don’t know what is. And if ever I’m having a day questioning my own value and impact, I really need to just hang out at The Square. We raise compassionate and caring kids at my old school. They go on to become such beautiful people, trying hard to make life work and to give to others and become the best versions of themselves.

Us teachers are truly blessed. And if you’re a teacher who doesn’t work hard, doesn’t reach out to your kids, you won’t understand, but deserve to, so work harder. 

πŸ™πŸ»

Breakthrough

So I was just sitting here, watching Dr Phil, my head pounding, and I thought, “I struggle with my Birthday because I don’t believe I’m worth celebrating.” 

I know how ridiculous that is, but it’s truly what came into my head. I know I am worth it but it’s like I don’t believe other people will think I am. Lower my expectation, minimize disappointment. How f’ed in the head is that?! 

And I stand by what I said the other day, this stems from the IVF journey; the journey that just keeps giving lol. And that stems from being single.

For the majority of my life, probably until I hit my late thirties and forties, I hadn’t believed I was worth what I now think is very obvious worth. IVF compounded this because even though I was surrounded by people, it is a very alone journey, not lonely but alone. There are aspects of it that only the woman could understand, even in the most loving relationship. 

The drugs, the injections, the emotional rollercoaster, the listening and feeling and questioning every single physical aspect, well, you do that alone. The continual failure takes its toll. And then miscarrying, and misvarrying entirely alone and isolated, well, that compounded it all too. 

And so I learned I would do my life myself. I would pull back from everything (except work) to protect myself. I think when I wanted people to just know what to do, and to just be who I needed and wanted them to be, and they weren’t, I internalized that by reverting to my childhood narrative. The one where I’m not pretty enough, funny enough, smart enough, worth enough. 

Then there was the workplace bullying, healing from the miscarriage and another failed IVF, and then the investigation, more ‘voices’ telling me I wasn’t good enough; to the extent that my support network was shut down by the institution through their installation of fear by threatening that I would lose my job. 

Oh wow. No wonder my head is abnormal πŸ˜‰ trying not to swear lol. 

And that’s why when my friend said we needed to do something for my birthday, and suggested something, and organized it, respecting my request to keep my birthday quiet, I was happy to say yes: best of both worlds, celebration without pressure. 

I’m looking forward to my birthday. A year wiser in a transformative year. A year where I am rebuilding my entire life, from the ground up. 

What a blessing courage is. 

What a blessing freedom is. 

What a blessing this life is. 

Happy Birthday, Tina. You are becoming, you are, the woman you always wanted to be. I’m proud of you kiddo!