Needles. Usually that was enough to send me packing in the opposite direction. However as our journey to parenthood commenced so many years ago, I learned to suck it up and shot myself twice daily to prepare for our two failed in-vitros, I still bear the scars - a daily reminder that my commitment to parenthood is unwavering - I'll try just about anything.
If you told me the practice of acupuncture had helped women across the globe for centuries get pregnant I would've said you were crazy - but four years ago I gave in to the ancient Eastern treatment and I voluntarily subjected myself to dozens of needles inserted into the dermis of my skin. I watched as the Chinese doctor located in a small office in the middle of Chinatown placed 2 inch needles into my forehead, chest, stomach, arms, legs and even between my toes (the most painful of them all), what was I thinking?
It was a miracle. Besides the amazing relaxation these needles induced by aligning my Qi and increasing my body's blood flow, the 6 months I spent with my doctor and her "ancient Chinese secret" regulated my cycle. She would always say, "we fix your ovaries," in her adorable Chinese accent ... for a brief time, I was normal, I was like every other woman who walked these streets, something I'd never known.
As life progressed, my time spent at the acupuncturist grew shorter and more infrequent and my cycles went back to its craziness. In one week I'll be having minor surgery to help my body regulate itself once again ... but thanks to a dear friend who convinced me to go back to what worked, I'm hoping going back to acupuncture will be the help I need.
As I place my body at the mercy of those needles once again, I'm relieved and reminded that western medicine isn't always the best medicine.
