Guest blog by Peppur Chambers, a writer, producer, actor and wanna-be, will-she-be mom.
With the morning sun caressing me, I’d sit in lotus on my pink yoga mat. Chanting to fertility meditation music, “I am fertile, I am healthy!”
At 46, I was living abroad in Prague, an English-teaching expat on sabbatical from 10 years as a broke LA multi-hyphenate.
I’d always wanted a family. At 36 I’d planned IUU. But I freaked out; felt like a mad-scientist picking out eye color and genetic build.
Now, here I was in Prague, 10 years later trying to get pregnant the old-fashioned way, with foreign boys in bed who didn’t really want to be fathers but wanted to get freaky. I started to wonder if I was fertile at all. In November 2016, I finally went to an OB/GYN to get Czeched out.
“I don’t know if you’re even ovulating,” she said with a scrunchy Eastern European face completely void of American hand-holding. I look young, I act young. My age had always just been a number, until that harsh reality came tumbling out in plain English. I freaked.
I got to Googling. I focused on Ovulation and Egg Health. I was scared. Would Mother Nature have the final say?
For egg quality, I took Vitex which I finally found in the Netherlands; they called it Monk Paper. That stuff gave me headaches, (I think) and my 35 EUR fertility deposit went down the drain in a swirl of paranoia. I took evening primrose oil to encourage cervical mucus; who knows when that “yummy” stretchy gold disappeared, but it had and I started digging for it each month, praying for the stretch. I took a vitamin cocktail of Prenatals, zinc, B12, C, D and CoQ10 (the wrong one, I discovered later). I stopped caffeine and alcohol; drank dandelion and beet root tea for detox. I started eating. Not that I’d stopped as some sort of protest to lack of baby. I cut rohliks and cheese spread and OD’d on lentils, eggs and avocados sprinkled with flax seeds. I drank loads of water.
More than anything, I believed. At night I meditated and envisioned my baby while I massaged my ovaries and uterus with castor oil to stimulate energizing blood flow. I believed I was healthy. I believed I was fertile. I didn’t go back to that doctor. I stayed on my own and became my own quack. In July 2017, the universe aligned and I became pregnant. What happened after that is another story.
Peppur Chambers is a writer, producer, actor and wanna-be, will-she-be mom. She is originally from Wisconsin and has lived in Chicago, LA, NY and made it to Prague for three years. You can read about her Journey to Self-Discovery (and more) at www.blogtoprague.wordpress.com