The bucket.

The bucket.

It happened recently.

This message popped up in my IG PMs (for those who are not so keen on abbreviations πŸ˜‰ : in the personal messages of my Instagram).

 

“I never spoke to anyone after my PIO diagnosis and during the fertility process.

Only shortly after the birth, but that turned out not to be a super match.

And now the bucket has overflowed.

Advice to other women in a similar process

to certainly dose this with professional help

to prevent you from getting stuck afterwards.

Like me.”

 

 

 

This ladyΒ  became a mother – in her early 40s – through donor conception.

Her baby is soooo handsome and cheerful,

and she is the most radiant, happy mother.

And yet, this message…

The bucket that has now overflowed.

At first I was surprised.

But the next moment I already know: “Not surprising. Far from exceptional.

 

In the undercurrent there are things out of her fertility process that have not received enough attention,

and who are now screaming to be heard.

 

Determination. To become a mother.

I see that with my clients. They have this vital and emotionally charged goal in mind,

and they would go for it to the end of the world

(yes, sometimes they literally go to other ends of the world for it; I’m happy to guide them there too).

They bite into it. They often continue where others stop.

The metaphor of the hamster on the treadmill (do you see the animal in front of you? it runs on and on, without standing still) spontaneously comes to my mind:

they close chapters and boldly move on to the next, driven by that deep wish.

I don’t judge.

I mainly know:

I was once that hamster

with that fearless, focused, driven attitude.

Determined to fulfill my deepest wish, unwilling to stop, not even for a moment.

It may not be a coincidence that they end up with me.

 

Let me throw in another metaphor right away (sorry, I like metaphors πŸ˜‰ ).

That of the ball (your emotions, fears, doubts,…) you press underwater.

You don’t see the ball.

But it is there.

And it takes a lot of energy to keep it below the surface.

Energy that leaks out unnoticed. You, who are gradually getting cramped.

Until the moment comes when you can’t keep it anymore.

And the ball jumps out of the water.

Baf, in your face.

Where does it suddenly come from? You hadn’t seen him come (anymore).

Yep,Β  that ball also popped in my face once or what did you think.

 

Here’s a warm call to bring your ball up NOW

where it can float peacefully on the water.

Present. But that’s why it’s no longer dominant.

 

Becoming a mother through donor(s)/ as a single/ at a certain age/…

Taking steps you may never have thought you would take before.

Crossing the boundaries that you first set with your mind,

but then go over it with your gut feeling.

That requires attention and space.

Lots of attention and space.

Now!

To prevent the bucket from overflowing, the ball jumping in your face,

if your baby is already here

i.e. if you are already pregnant (I have quite a few customers who are already pregnant, suddenly in complete panic whether this was the right decision)

or already a mom.

 

Wait a minute, Viki.

I can hear you coming, but attention and space, that will cost me too much time.

And I don’t have that time, my biological clock explodes!

Correct!! My VIP program is perfect for this.

You and I will work together intensively for 3 months – completely 1 on 1 (so you have my undivided attention).

To reflect. Feel, discover and eliminate blind spots. Plow through layers of mourning. Dare to connect with your dream child. Making plans. Starting things very concretely (I often see customers taking actions during those 3 months, e.g. towards a fertility clinic)…

So that you stand firm in your decision, gain time and … your bucket will not overflow later.

 

Do you feel this resonates with you?

Then I would love to meet you online in a free match call!

Every week I hold max. 2 such conversations, from which I start every month with max. 3 new customers.

 

Yes, I would like to have a free match call.

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