by Bina Pattel, 52 yrs, London, UK
At the age of 45 – I was 14 weeks pregnant, had a miscarriage and did not stop bleeding for 11 weeks. After 8 internal examinations by different doctors, I told my husband I would rather die than have another doctor examine me. I thought this was the worst time in my life. I had no idea that worse was yet to come.
I collapsed at home and the ambulance came and picked me up and dropped me off like a parcel on a stretcher to the super busy A & E department at the local hospital. I vaguely recall a nurse passing by me twice and looking concerned. She pulled my eyelid down, saw how pale I was, and went off in haste. Before I knew it, I was on a drip and told my blood count was very low and I needed 2 blood transfusions and there was no time other than to give my consent, which I did.
At no point did I ever consider the seriousness of what my body was telling me.
My periods started aged 11 and I had problems in that department throughout and did my best to ignore any symptoms. I thought it was normal that every month I was in severe pain and had heavy bleeding. Even 4 miscarriages made no difference to my mind, which was telling me: “Focus on getting your work done”, and that’s what I did. I had a mobile phone in one hand and a blood transfusion going in the other arm.
The truth was – I just could not stop. I was like a spinning top where you wind it up and let go and it keeps spinning. Even though I had physically been stopped, I could not stop the internal momentum. I hated it when someone told me to just: “Allow and be still”. What on earth did that mean or even look like or feel like?
Stillness for me was a word to describe lazy people, who were boring and laid back and could not multi-task. I was not one of them or even contemplating ever becoming a still woman. Yet I felt a tension in my body and that was felt as physical pain – the internal fight between who I was and what I chose to do. I was fighting a natural inner stillness, that is who I am as a woman, and over-riding it with motion. I was racing around doing three jobs and lots of commuting, adding to the non-stop doing, and nothing could stop me.
Fast forward 8 months later and I had a hysterectomy. I had been diagnosed with a fibroid tumour which could not be removed any other way, and I recall the surgeon saying that my ovaries would be left, as there was nothing wrong with them – like that was a bit of good news. All I wanted was to get on with my life like it was before all this happened. So I agreed to have my uterus and cervix removed.
Before the surgery I asked Serge Benhayon for help. I told him there was no pain, so I did not want the surgery. He recommended following the surgeon’s advice and was clear that having no pain did not mean the tumour was harmless. He was right and my surgeon confirmed this when he told me that my tumour had grown significantly in size and needed to be removed.
As my health had deteriorated so much, my husband gave up work to look after me and we were financially struggling; so again my mind kicked in with plans on how I could get better fast and start earning money. Of course that did not happen, but what did happen a few months after the surgery was I burnt my hand severely and this was another 3 months off work. I really loved the drama and the stress it brought, which distracted me from just surrendering and listening to my body and feeling the truth of what was there to be felt.
It really does not pay to ignore the signs when things are not feeling right with your body. How on earth did I think I was going to get away with 35 years of ignoring my periods and expecting to be ok? Yes I had endometriosis, cysts and fibroids but that never stopped me doing anything. These were all big fat signs to tell me something was clearly not right about the way I was living. At that time I did not know how to take care of myself, and I did not have a drop of self-love. Loving me was not my thing, as it just felt uncomfortable. It meant that I would need to pay attention to my body, which I deeply loathed and really had no time for. I was far too busy working and trying to save the world. I was constantly on the go looking to do the next thing and getting these physical conditions was a gross inconvenience, to say the least.
For the 6 years after the surgery I applied simple and practical ways, as presented by Serge Benhayon, to develop a connection with my body that led to a deeper level of stillness. I got an understanding that what was missing was the stillness – as my body had so much motion from all my years of being on the go – and that made sense to me. Of course my physical health started to change as the old way of living fell away.
What was really hard was learning how to stop during every single day and take time out to rest or just take a walk with me. What was even harder was learning to cook for myself and eat food that truly supported my body. The biggest change that helped me get to the stillness that I have today was looking at my sleep routine, which led me to waking up feeling me, not thinking I am superwoman and can multi-task and force things to happen.
Allowing myself to feel and using my body as a compass to guide me how to live really helped me to come back to me.
These simple truths have stayed with me; it has been a slow step-by-step process to have a real close relationship with my body, and now I finally know what stillness is.
I cannot turn back the clock, but what I can do now is live every day taking deep care of myself and this is what I have been doing and it works. I love myself deeply and would never choose to harm my body again – ever.
Today I feel a real woman who does have an inner stillness, which feels amazing and keeps me grounded.
The biggest tip I could give any woman, any age, who knows something is not right in the woman department is to first go and get it checked out with your GP and then consider how you are living that is possibly causing the issue.
Thank you sincerely to Serge Benhayon, Universal Medicine and all the amazing practitioners who, with the way they live their lives, are able to reflect that there is another way – and it starts with stillness.
You may also be interested to read this blog by Bina on the menopause