Chaya’s Pelvic Story

Given the depth and intimacy of this work, I wanted to share with you my own Chaya's Pelvic story of the journey I have experienced in my pelvic health. 

As a small child of 5 years old, I had recurrent urinary tract infections. I had many medical tests, some that included catheters into my bladder. No one ever explained the procedures to me ahead of time. On multiple occasions, I was sent to a room without my parents, and had a tube inserted into my urethra, alone, with strangers.

I have come to realize that medical trauma is not so different from sexual trauma, in the body’s interpretation. Of course, we honor the intent of doctors is generally different from the intent of people who intentionally cause harm in this way, and we tenderly acknowledge that the impact can be quite similar.

After many tests, and many rounds of antibiotics, because I was still getting chronic infections, I was put on a low dose of prophylactic antibiotics for 7 years, until I was 12 years old. This becomes a story about gut health that is for another day. And also, unasked questions from the medical frontier, like “Is she drinking enough water? How much sugar is she eating? How is your home life?” To name a few. 

Around age 12, someone deemed it time for me to stop taking antibiotics. The infections abated, until I became sexually active at age 17. When I lost my virginity, I got another urinary tract infection. It spread to my kidney and I became feverish and delirious. I was hospitalized. My boyfriend at the time, pressured me to have sex again right afterwards. I was still in so much pain.

Take that in. My first sexual experience landed me in the emergency room.

My early sexual years were spent in cycles of having drunk college sex, getting bladder infections, taking antibiotics, getting yeast infections from the antibiotics and then starting the cycle all over again. It was awful. Not to mention, my mom called yeast infections, “crotch rot”, which did not make me feel proud of my yoni. 

I could somewhat tolerate that miserable cycle, but one day, just after ending a toxic and abusive relationship, I got my urine culture back, and instead of getting an antibiotic prescription, like usual, the clinician called me to say, the urine tested negative for bacteria, and they could not treat me with antibiotics. They did not have a solution for my problem.

If you know, you know, but I basically had the beginning symptoms of a UTI, with no cure or solution. After much more painful and invasive testing, it was concluded, that I had a condition called, Interstitial Cystitis. This loosely translates to unexplained inflammation of the bladder wall. They offered me medications for the symptoms. I tried one once. It turned my urine bright orange. I thought that cannot be safe, and did not take it again. The laundry list of the long term side effects of the other medication did not seem too appealing either.

I was off on my own, to explore the wild terrain of “holistic healing”. Whatever that meant. I read this term in a book in a large medical institution where I had gone for a urology appointment. Holistic healing was a new concept. So was kale, honestly. I grew up with mac and cheese and spaghetti o’s. 

I looked up “Urinary Tract Infection” in the index and read about cranberry extract. This was in the late 90s when we did not have all this access to information we do now. This book awakened an ancient knowing in me, of ways my conscious brain did not remember but that lived deep in my bones. Ancestral ways. 

After some time, dietary changes, herbal remedies, meditation, soul searching and healing from childhood and young adult sexual trauma, I started to turn a corner. I started to find peace and comfort in my body. I studied Maya Massage with Rosita Arvigo and Holistic Pelvic Care with Tami Kent. I started to work with my own energy body and physical body, in real time. 

I started to live in a way where pain did not run my life. I started to find pleasure in my body again. I had good days and bad days. Finally, after staying the self-created course, I realized I was going days, and then weeks, and then years, with NO PELVIC PAIN. It became my mission to help others do the same. 

So yes, I take my work seriously. And I laugh a lot at the absurdity of life.