Sisterhood of the Travelling Talisman - Part 2
I didn’t ever worry about getting pregnant - I thought it would come naturally. My mom was extremely fertile, and no one on either side of our family had an issue. I figured when I was ready to have kids, which I always wanted, I would. When my husband and I were dating, we tried so hard not to get pregnant. After we got married, we immediately started trying. I was 32, and in my mind I wanted 3 kids. A year went by, and we didn’t get pregnant. Every month, every time I would get my period, it was so depressing. We thought something was wrong with us, so we went to get tested. The tests came back showing nothing wrong - “Unexplained Infertility” - which was really frustrating.
I didn’t ever worry about getting pregnant - I thought it would come naturally. My mom was extremely fertile, and no one on either side of our family had an issue. I figured when I was ready to have kids, which I always wanted, I would. When my husband and I were dating, we tried so hard not to get pregnant. After we got married, we immediately started trying. I was 32, and in my mind I wanted 3 kids. A year went by, and we didn’t get pregnant. Every month, every time I would get my period, it was so depressing. We thought something was wrong with us, so we went to get tested. The tests came back showing nothing wrong - “Unexplained Infertility” - which was really frustrating.
Most people that I connected with about infertility all went on to have healthy pregnancies. They all seemed to have specific issues that could be healed or fixed – but there wasn’t a prescription or procedure that would help me. We ended up taking the fertility route, and the doctors were very positive. We did an IUI and got pregnant right away. It felt like everything was finally perfect, and then at 9 weeks we learned there was no longer a heartbeat. It was so awful, and I didn’t want to do any more fertility treatment. The miscarriage was really hard on me – you have all of these hopes and dreams, and you have to give yourself time to heal. What surprised me was how few people talked about it. Even at the fertility clinic, no one asked me how I was doing or offered grief support.
A year later, I was finally ready to walk back into the clinic.
Once you decide to go the IVF route, it doesn’t just ‘happen’. First you have to get approved, and it takes about a year for them to call you. Meanwhile, each month you’re not getting pregnant and you get lower and lower. I had this shame around my age, like maybe I was too late, and I was only 35. The process is very expensive as well. They kept telling me that it would work, they were so confident. To be honest, the fertility clinic wasn’t a loving, nurturing place – it was like a factory, and the experience was void of emotion. Every morning at 6am, there was a lineup of women waiting to get their blood test before going to work. We’d be in this huge room with nowhere to sit, and no one was talking to each other.
Slowly, I started talking to some of the women I would see week after week. We would hug each other and share moments of hope. There was no ceremony or ritual, there was barely any acknowledgment of what we were going through emotionally, let alone physically. I had 14 different alarms on my phone for all of the pills I had to take every day. I was covered in bruises, but no one could see them. I’d go about my day as if none of this was taking place. When we finally did the IVF, I knew I was pregnant right away. We ended up getting pregnant with identical twins, which was crazy! I thought maybe the universe was making up for something.
And then, everything changed. One Saturday morning, I was driving to see my naturopath. I was 9 weeks pregnant - the same when I miscarried a few years early - when a car ran right into me. He was trying to beat the light, a decision that cost me so much. In the ambulance and at the hospital, all I could think about was my babies. I kept asking if I was still pregnant. I had bruises all over my body and I was in serious pain, but they told me I was still pregnant. But that didn’t last long. A little while later, I lost the babies.
Everything started to unravel. I’ve spent so much time trying to understand why this happened. I relive that day all the time – it’s in my head, in my dreams. Yet, somehow I’ve found my way to the most spiritual place in my life. Those babies didn’t get to come into the world, but they will always be a part of my heart and soul.
After the accident, I started to heal my body and my heart. I hired a spiritual coach who introduced me to the idea of ceremony, ritual, and manifestation. Before the accident, I wasn’t very spiritual. I didn’t take the time to set intentions or give gratitude for each day. After the accident, I started to write down the blessings that came from the accident. If the car had hit the woman behind me, she would have been killed. She told me I’m her angel for saving her life.
I started to be grateful for the crappy things in life, because they have light in them too. I realized I was part of a greater story, and I started journaling each day. Through this process, I realized that I wasn’t living the life I was meant to – I was being safe. Years earlier, I gave up on my creative dreams of being an artist and fashion designer. With my husband and family’s encouragement, I decided to defy the odds. I quit my job and dove into my new business, Art of Marina, where I started to come alive again. I started to live ceremonially. Every morning, I take my dog on a long walk (I still try to avoid driving), and I would let him lead me. I would avoid being on my phone, so I would notice the flowers that I would have walked right past before. I’m obviously still sad, still grieving, and I’m not sure if I’ll ever have children, and so I give myself dedicated times to feel that grief, and then I go on with my life.
I shared my story online by accident one day - I wrote it out but decided not to post it. Yet, somehow it got published and when I came back from my walk my phone had blown up with messages of love and support. I bawled my eyes out, but I slept so well that night.
When Megan told me about Myriam and her story, I knew that we shared a bond. When she sent me the jade stone, it ignited in my hand. I could feel the magic in it. I’m slowly finding my peace, and I can’t judge my success based on what I don’t have. I’m focusing on what I do have, and in doing so, my life has become more meaningful. Ceremony, for me, is about appreciating the things we have, celebrating our hopes and dreams, and gaining wisdom as we try and navigate the twists and turns of life.
I shared my story online by accident one day - I wrote it out but decided not to post it. Yet, somehow it got published and when I came back from my walk my phone had blown up with messages of love and support. I bawled my eyes out, but I slept so well that night.
When Megan told me about Myriam and her story, I knew that we shared a bond. When she sent me the jade stone, it ignited in my hand. I could feel the magic in it. I’m slowly finding my peace, and I can’t judge my success based on what I don’t have. I’m focusing on what I do have, and in doing so, my life has become more meaningful. Ceremony, for me, is about appreciating the things we have, celebrating our hopes and dreams, and gaining wisdom as we try and navigate the twists and turns of life.
About Marina Mikulic
My happiest days are spent making art, sharing it with you—and showing you how to do it! I love teaching workshops, sharing my experiences to anyone who’ll listen, because maybe, just maybe, it’ll help the next person go for their passion and exceed their wildest dreams!
About Marina Mikulic
My happiest days are spent making art, sharing it with you—and showing you how to do it! I love teaching workshops, sharing my experiences to anyone who’ll listen, because maybe, just maybe, it’ll help the next person go for their passion and exceed their wildest dreams!