Welcome to this guided meditation for fertility. Find a comfortable seat where you won’t be disturbed for the next few minutes, at least not by anyone casually offering you wine as a test to see if you’re pregnant yet, or commenting on the poof of your dress that you’re “carrying well” when all you are carrying is burrito weight.
Close your eyes. Thank yourself for embarking on this conscious journey to conception. Breathe deeply. Imagine a beam of golden light entering into your heart space. This golden light is your fertility, and you have to feel it in your heart first before you can even think about conceiving. Clearly you’re not pregnant because you don’t want it badly enough, despite thinking about it nonstop for three straight years. That’s why all the pregnant women you see on Instagram are beaming, because of this golden light, and definitely not the Valencia filter.
Imagine this light heading toward your womb. Repeat after me: “My womb is supple, yet strong. My body is ready to host a baby. I welcome motherhood. My uterus is willing to be stretched, my pelvic floor left in shambles, all for the joy of a baby. I imagine my child as a cute, fat baby, who does not continue the legacy of my bad habits, and who will love me slightly more than she does her father.”
Now, picture someone who you would like to send this light to. This can be a supportive friend who sent you a funny card on Mother’s Day to lift your spirits, or perhaps someone with whom your relationship is more challenging, like a coworker who kept emailing you as you lay with your legs splayed in your OBGYN’s office. See this light entering their heart space and a smile appearing across their face. Don’t you feel better? Even when one of them gets pregnant before you when you’ve been trying for way longer?
Scan your body and notice where there’s any remaining tension. Perhaps in your neck when your mother reminded you that all her friends have grandchildren already, or your abdomen where your ovaries are expanding with six times the normal production of eggs due to the hormones you’re pumped up with like a baseball player in the late 90s.
Throughout this meditation, pay close attention to your breath. Are you holding it, trying to keep your period from starting using only the powers of your mind? Are you mimicking labor breathing a la Lamaze, acting “as if” to trick your body into being pregnant? Stop this. Breathe normal, weirdo.
Slowly bring your attention back to your surroundings. Open your eyes and see you’re still in the empty room you designated as the nursery that you currently only use for this meditation. Do you feel lighter, or just sadder? Whatever it is, take this feeling with you as you go about your day surrounded by neighbors out with their children as you hold onto your fertility crystals hoping they’ll do something.
I’ll see you back here tomorrow.