At my baby shower, my friend Sveta pats my bulging belly: "Oh, let me touch the baby," she says wistfully, "and maybe I can catch this wonderful virus of pregnancy." After years of infertility and painful, expensive medical procedures, she is still not able to conceive. Diagnosis: unknown.
Throughout the afternoon of fun baby shower games and mouth watering mini croissant chicken salad sandwiches, I constantly feel Sveta's glance, scanning through me like an x-ray. As the party draws to an end, I open the gifts and under "Oh's" and "Ah's' of my girlfriends; I dress up my belly with the cutest baby outfits. Handing her gift to me, an infant comforter set, Sveta manages to smile: "Enjoy," she says cheerlessly. "You're so lucky. If I weren't your friend, I'd envy you." Before I can open my mouth to say that she makes me feel uncomfortable, our eyes connect and suddenly all my anger, frustration and guilt melt away as I drown in the pain in Sveta's eyes.
Later that night, I toss and turn in bed. "What's the matter?" my husband asks. "I can't sleep," I say, sitting up and turning on the light. "I can't get over Sveta's remark. She is so depressed and helpless, longing for a baby so badly. I just don't know what I can do for her."
"There is nothing you can do," my husband says, yawning. "That's just the way it is. Come on," he's reaching over me, turning off the light, "get some sleep; you've had a long day."
Thirty minutes later, I'm finally able to comfortably settle down on my left side, with pillows behind my back and underneath my belly, I begin to drift off. Suddenly, like lightning in the night, the thought storms through my mind: "Hypnotize her." And in a split second, like rain, more thoughts begin to pour down on me. "Well, of course! Why didn't I think of it before? I can offer Sveta a hypnotherapy session! In fact, I've had several clients with infertility issues in the past. While in a relaxed trance-like hypnotic state, when the conscious-intellectual mind is off-guard, I am able to access the inner mind - the subconscious, which is like software, running our mental, emotional and physical experiences. When I reach this level, I have an opportunity to re-program this inner software, adjusting it to a fertility mode. But what if I take it further?, I wonder. What if, before adjusting, I take Sveta even deeper, to the very bottom of her subconscious mind, where her all-knowing spirit, Neshama dwells. Why not ask this primary source for advice and guidance?
Excited, I open my eyes and slowly emerge from my pillow paradise, turning on the light. My husband jumps: "What? What is it?"
"I know what I can do for Sveta," I exclaim, sharing my plan.
"See if she'll want this," he says rubbing his eyes. "It's not for everybody. But please don't call her right now," he adds seeing the ardent blaze in my eyes. "You think she's already sleeping?" I ask disappointedly. "Yes," he says turning off the light, "and so are we."
Next morning I call Sveta and offer a hypnotherapy session to receive guidance and remove the potential inner blockage that prevents her from conceiving. Skeptical but desperate, she agrees to try.
Three days later, in the dimmed office of my clinic, comfortably relaxing in a plush leather reclining chair with her eyes closed; Sveta embarks on a voyage inside of herself to solve the mystery of her inability to conceive.
"As I count from twenty to zero you'll relax deeper and deeper," my voice softly echoes through the room, "and on a count of zero you'll descend a hundred times deeper than you are right now, through the layers of your mind, like waves of the sea, landing on an island of safety and peace dwelling deep inside you."
Sveta's eyes begin to flicker - a sign of relaxation. "Let me know when you feel your feet touch the ground," I tell her. "Twenty," I begin the countdown, guiding her inward, "letting go of any fears and concerns ...Sixteen..letting your conscious mind drift off and away, disappearing into a soft, pleasant energy swirling all around you ...Eight - your subconscious mind is opening up like a beautiful rose in spring, absorbing you inside it. Six - deeper and deeper - Four - almost there. You're already sensing the magnificent aromas radiating from your inner island, and zero - one hundred times deeper. You're there."
Sveta's relaxed body twitches as her muscles release the last ounce of tension and her face lights up in a wondrous smile "I am here," she whispers, dropping her head on her left shoulder. "Staying as deep as you are, tell me what you see," I gently touch Sveta's hand.
"There are colors I've never seen before; they are shining brightly, as if sprinkled with diamond sparks. It's a strange feeling," she pauses, looking surprised, "I feel as if I've been here before, sometime long agon. This place is so cozy and familiar, like I am home."
"You're home," I echo. "I am walking on a path, through velvety, tall grass," she continues, rubbing her fingers, as if feeling the grass.
"Wait," she suddenly squeezes my hand, "there is somebody there.I see a figure emerging. It's so strange, the way it appears, as if it's coming through an invisible wall from another dimension." For a few seconds, Sveta is quiet, absorbed in her vision. "He is a friend," she then tells me; "I feel safe with him."
"What happens next?" I prompt.
"He's taking me by the hand and guiding me towards the waterfall lagoon in front of us. He wants to show me something." She hesitates for a second. "Please, go on," I encourage her.
"I am in a lagoon now, by the water. I see the waterfall on the other side, but here, where we're standing, it's so quiet and peaceful. My friend is taking me closer to the water, pointing to its silky surface. Breathlessly, I am listening. I am looking at the water and it is so still," she smiles slightly. "Where is your friend now?" I ask.
"He's right next to me," Sveta replies, "and now he's touching the water with his finger and I see... a city," She sounds surprised. "A big city with lots of tall buildings. It feels as if I am flying above it, but where am I?" She pauses, comprehending. "Oh, my! It's my hometown, Dnepropetrovsk, back in Russia." Her closed eyes begin to move quickly side to side, following the vision. "I am flying closer now, slowing down," she reports, "moving away from downtown and into a suburban area. It's a strange feeling, I am soaring down without a parachute and it's OK." I begin to feel weightless myself, as if I am flying with her.
"Now I am on a small, empty street with a dirty road and old run-down buildings," she continues. "Some homes are abandoned, almost in ruins." She pauses, looking around the street. "It's so sad," she sighs.
"I'm in front of a two - story house with chipped yellow paint and many crooked, broken windows," she says. "Hold on a minute." Her body leans forward: "There is a sign." She is squints her eyes, reading in Russian: "Detskiy Dom." (Children's Home). I gasp - I didn't expect this.
"I am looking through the window on the first floor," she continues. "There are so many children, all in one room and many are crying," she says sadly. "Oh, they are little babies!" her voice melts in delight. "Some are in cribs, some are crawling, and some are barely walking." Sveta pauses, looking around the room, and I lean closer to her, holding my breath, waiting for her to continue.
"Here you are," she says quietly after a minute or two. "I's you, I know it's you," she whispers tenderly, reaching her hands out as if wanting to pick up a baby. "You're my baby." With tears rolling down her cheeks she crosses her hands over her heart, and as if holding a baby, she begins to rock back and forth: "Oh, honey, I've been waiting to have you for so long."
And then it happens. In a small dim office, filled with soft meditative music and lavender scents, Sveta is finally able to conceive - an idea, a spark of wonderment, the anticipation of meeting and holding her precious baby for the very first time. As if her spirit has shown her a different path from what she had expected, to a long held dream of motherhood.
Nine months later, I receive an e-mail from the Children's Home in Dnepropetrovsk, and as I open the attachment, I jump with excitement. In the photo, a beaming smile on her face, as if she's just given birth, Sveta is holding her eighteen-month-old son, Jacob, named after her father.