Psychopathic Naturopathic Medicine

(Three posts in three days, I know. Shit's getting real.)

I've started seeing naturopaths. That's naturopaths plural. Meaning three of them.

My main naturopath says that the reason I can't carry a pregnancy is threefold: lack of circulation, elevated toxicity, and increased inflammation. To ameliorate those things, I am two weeks into abiding by the following protocol.

1. Acupuncture. For full-body circulation and not just infertility. (Once a week.)
2. Homeopathic Unda Numbered Compounds. If you're thinking "what the fuck," then we're on the same page. I'm not sure, but they seem to be magic medicine that's taken in a magical way. All I know for sure is that they taste like booze, which is the only good thing about them. That, and I like saying "unda." (Fifteen drops three time day, an hour away from food.)
3. Pregnancy Prep Enzyme Pills. I actually used to take these a few years ago because the cross-eyed chick with the tattoos at my health food store recommended them. They didn't work. (Two pills twice a day away from food.)
4. Curcumin Pills. I know what you're thinking. "Cumin," right? Well, you're wrong because they're made of turmeric. I'm taking them because turmeric apparently decreases inflammation. Doesn't seem to be working for folks in the Middle East, but what do I know? (Two pills twice a day away from food.)
5. Abdominal Castor Oil Heat Packs. I used to do this, actually. Not on myself, because it's disgusting, but back when I was a massage therapist, I would use them on clients. You put a gross amount of castor oil on your stomach, place a disposable cloth on top, and apply a heat pack wrapped in plastic on the belly. It draws out icky stuff and makes nice poops. (Daily for 20 minutes.)
6. Mayan Abdominal Massage. This is exactly what it sounds like: a Mayan Shaman created a massage that makes people pregnant. If you stopped reading after "Shaman," then you'll never know how badly I want to be your best friend. (Once or twice a month by the therapist. Daily on myself for 10 minutes.)
7. The Anti-Inflammatory Diet. This means:
   No gluten
   No soy
   No dairy
   No nightshades
   No sugar or sweeteners
   No caffeine
   No alcohol
   (Forever, or until I kill myself.)

Of these seven dos and don'ts, it's the diet that's most impacting because it means I can't eat out, and this is a HUGE problem because restaurants are my hobby, my sport, and my most favorite thing that N and I do together. And if you're about to say that I can find a way around it, then you haven't thought it through.

Think I can get away with Mexican food if I order rice, beans, and corn chips with guacamole? Not if the rice is cooked with tomato, the beans have chili powder, and the guac has sour cream. Perhaps some sushi? Sure, as long as I stick to sashimi and plain white rice, since I can't have soy sauce, miso soup, or sushi rice (which is seasoned with sugar). Or maybe some breakfast? It's easy to modify a cheese omelet with a side of potatoes, toast, and coffee with cream, because all I have to do is order plain eggs. Problem solved.

Truth be told, at 2 weeks in, I'm starting to get used to it. Or, at least I've stopped crying about it (yes, literally). And I do feel better after I eat, so I suppose something's working. I am not happy about it, though.

But I mentioned that I'm seeing three naturopaths, so here's the scoop on that: the first doctor is the one overseeing my whole treatment, giving me my herbal meds, and doing my acupuncture. The second naturopath is the one doing the Mayan abdominal massage. And the third naturopath warrants some storytelling.

The third naturopath likes every bit of this protocol, but she feels it's not quite as insane as it could be, so I need to add three more things:

1. Pregnancy Tea. Your basic raspberry leaf concoction. (Two or more cups a day.)
2. Utrophin PMG. The main ingredient in these pills is bovine uterus, which means that they're pills made from a bovine's uterus, which means that I'm taking bovine uterus pills that are made from a bovine's uterus. (Two pills twice a day with food even though the thought of consuming bovine uterus makes me want to vomit.)
3. Pelvic Floor Massage. How is a pelvic floor massage different from Mayan Abdominal Massage? Well, only one involves getting massaged inside my vagina. (Once a month.)

Allow me to elaborate on this last point, if you will. While others before me have paid good money to have their pussies rubbed, I never imagined that one of those people would be me. However, a friend of mine had it done after 2 years of trying to conceive on her own, and the month after her first treatment, she got pregnant. I don't think this will happen to me, but it also seems worth trying. Besides, it's something to blog about.

So, in conjunction with the adjustments that my doctor recommended, this is the Kitchen Sink Cycle. Although truth be told, it will probably more commonly be referred to as the Final Cycle, because it's official: after this, I'm done. And while I'm scared about what this might mean, it feels good to have made the decision. Infertility has taken up too much of my life and my body, and -- although I will continue to try and manifest a kid or two by other means -- I need to take my body out of the equation. Enough is enough.

In the meantime, I'm going to do everything the naturopaths tell me to do and hope that the pelvic floor massage will get me my happy ending.

Second Helpings

I've switched doctors at my clinic. I loved Dr. M, and I miss him terribly, but he seemed to be out of ideas, and I wanted a fresh set of eyes on my chart.

So, Dr. H and I sat down to discuss a March transfer, which would normally mean that I wouldn't be taking any pills right now, but he actually wants me on daily doses of:

1. Baby Aspirin for increased blood flow,
2. Vitamin D because normal Vitamin D levels are above 50, and mine is 12, and
3. Prenatal Vitamins with DHA for increased folic acid and increased whatever DHA is.

The big change, though, is that there will be a couple of shifts to my medication protocol in February. He's going to add:

1. Estrace, which is estrogen to strengthen my uterine lining, and
2. Viagra, which is either to thicken my lining, increase my blood flow, and/or make me grow a big, hard cock.

There's more going on, too. Just you wait.

Festival of Lights at the End of the Tunnel

It wasn't the best Hanukkah for me. Lots of drama that's not worth getting into, so I won't, but in between the bouts of mayhem, there was an especially sweet moment.

My mother urged me yet again to think about adoption. She knows of some baby-manifesting lawyer who gives away infants, which means that (1) she clearly has no idea what she's talking about and (2) that she loves me.

Neither of these things is anything new, but then she said this:

Please think about adoption. Please. I know it's not what you wanted, but you'll love your baby so much, whoever it is. And you've been through so much. I know it's expensive, and I know you feel you can't afford it, but I'll help you. Please, let it be my Hanukkah gift to you, and your Hanukkah gift to us.

It was the "your Hanukkah gift to us" part that made me cry. It meant that she would love any kid that I would put in her lap, which was good for me to hear because I knew that, but I didn't really know that. It meant that she wanted grandchildren, and she didn't care if they didn't come from her, or didn't come from me, or did come from a shady attorney.

It surprised me to realize how much that question had been tickling my anxiety, but I feel so much more at peace now that it's quieted. Equally surprising is that I find I have a couple adoption questions for Mr. Baby Manifester, Esq. And I can see asking them, too. Although perhaps not quite just yet.