Therapy for my Soul

It will be difficult to fully explain the experience I encountered this afternoon... But a simple term for it would be "therapy". The woman who worked with me today was not a therapist, per se, but rather a spiritually in-tune woman who works at a place called Sensory Dynamic. The facility focuses on helping people find balance in their lives, both emotionally and physically, since it is believed that everything has energy and can be intertwined in healthy and unhealthy ways. Through a series of not-so-coincidental events, I felt impressed to make an appointment and met with Tami Davis today.

I was a little nervous to attend. I knew some of the concepts and methods of helping me open up emotionally might be a little weird...simply because they are different and not something I've dappled in very much. Before I left, I knelt by my bed and offered a sincere prayer that I would learn truth today; that I would be able to differentiate between what I should believe and what I shouldn't; that Tami would be guided by the spirit to help me understand things I should know and learn about myself.

Jamie Malloy came with me, by my request, to offer support and be my scribe. I'm so happy she came. With how much I trust her, I felt safer having her in the room with me. As soon as I met Tami, I felt I could trust her, too, especially when she admitted she is LDS (I have a hard time talking about Ty to people who aren't LDS because they don't seem to understand). I laid on a bed and Tami went through the motions of "testing" and sensing things about me, while she had me talk to her about Ty, my grief, my love, my anger, my desires to be pregnant... I discovered some important things about myself and the way I'm processing Ty's death. To say it was emotional would be an understatement.

 Tami pushed me to recognize out loud the immensity of the grief I keep trapped inside -- that it is bigger than I realize; so big and hurtful that I never want to tap into it for long because it hurts too much. Way too much. I was bawling before I even realized what was happening, and she encouraged me to cry, to let it all out, even though I had felt fine moments before. We discussed the anger I keep running from, and I admitted that sometimes I do feel angry, but I don't like to admit it -- because it means I'm faithless and failing, and God might hold it against me. Anger was a big subject. She asked how I deal with anger in my relationships. I referenced my fights with Dan: If we get into an argument and Dan apologizes, I accept it and I'm fine, ready to move on. But if I upset Dan, he dwells on it more than I do, and I feel like, "Come on, already. I apologized! Get over it!" My method of coping is to move on as quickly as possible, to avoid negativity. But this grief and anger.... it's a whole different story. They won't let me push them under the rug. Emotions like these run so deeply in our bodies that we need time to let our bodies heal and recooperate. Mentally, I feel ready to be pregnant, but Tami said I'm expecting too much of my body -- that the trauma it's been through needs time. And I guess that could be true. I wanted to be pregnant the day after Ty passed away. I've demanded it of my body ever since. But my body is performance oriented and needs to heal and get through these emotions, rather than feel all the pressure I'm applying to do what I want. There's a difference between allowing things to happen fluidly versus forcefully.


I recognized that part of wanting to be pregnant is my way of shoving grief out of the way so I can get on with life and not keep feeling this pain. I'm trying to fill a hole, so desperately trying, and it may be backfiring. I was told that my identity as a mother is very strong. We were lead to talk about the Care Process: Wanting and needing something to care for. I found myself admitting that I don't want just any baby. I want Ty back. I want to hold him and raise him and finish what I started. It makes sense to me now. When people have asked, "oh, do you want a boy or girl next", I've always said, "I probably prefer a boy. Now that I've had a baby boy, I want to experience the rest of it." I haven't truly let go of him. Tami commented that I'm carrying my grief in my womb -- that I'm holding Ty there so tight and not allowing room for another baby. We discussed giving Ty his rightful place, to carry him elsewhere. I cannot recreate his birth (even though subconsciously that's what I've been wanting to do), but I need to make room for a new baby that is separate from Ty.

We talked about how I hold onto the pain to feel connected to Ty because that's what makes him real at times. Tami gave me an exercise to do to help me grieve for Ty, and to create positive experiences with remembering him. Just like with my anger, she emphasized the importance of "honoring what is" and feeling it. When expressing my guilt over feeling anger, she and Jamie helped me better understand that Heavenly Father understands my mortal limitations and still loves me. He knows when I'm angry at Him, even when I try to hide and lie to myself. All that does is bottle up and explode. My goal is to be open with Heavenly Father, and to be honest with myself and realize it is part of this process of growth and healing. It's OK to ask for help, especially from Him.

One other thing we touched on was Ty's mission in life. When Tami asked what I thought it was, I didn't have just one answer. I thought about my mom, my dad, Dan, myself... Ty touched so many people and seemed to leave a lasting impression that instilled a desire for us to make positive changes in ourselves. Tami added that he surely would be a guardian angel for my future children.

In a two hour session, a lot can be said and felt. I barely touched on it all. Every moment I was there, I felt the spirit and a ringing truth in the air and in my heart. I left feeling lighter, happier, and with a bolstered attitude that "I can do this!" I feel like I made some ground-breaking progress in the way I'm processing all this heaviness. And I was exhausted for the rest of the day!

Towards the end of my session, Tami looked over at Jamie and said, "That's a good friend you have there", referencing her note-taking skills, and then added, "And she's carrying a lot of your burden." We both were shocked -- not by the concept because Jamie and I both know the degree to which Jamie has supported me -- but by the words Tami continued to say, somehow knowing the pain that Jamie absorbed into her own life, especially the early days of Ty passing. She then offered to do some testing and processing with Jamie for a few minutes, understanding how connected we are, and hoped to lighten Jamie's load. It was a special experience to share that together.

I returned to the cemetery early this evening, feeling peaceful and happy, and just sat with all this information for a while. I'm feeling hopeful again.