My Apothecary Shelf: Ancestral Fertility practices and Western medical advancements
My journey through fertility and inspiration for future generations.
My fertility journey was recently reignited by an unexpected muse: Gisele Bündchen. Not because of the media drama surrounding her recent pregnancy with her new partner, but because — at 44 years old — she conceived naturally, in love, and in alignment. At first, I was shocked. Then I caught myself. Why was I so shocked?
I traced this curiosity back to my training with Mexican midwives on the coast of Oaxaca. I recalled the wisdom they held, the quiet confidence in the body’s ability when supported, nourished, and honored. And I realized: this wasn’t a miracle. This was the body simply doing what it knows how to do. What looks like a miracle in our modern context is often just nature, uninterrupted.
We’ve normalized depletion — nutritionally starved bodies, hormonally dysregulated systems, and lifestyles divorced from rhythm and rest. We’ve lost the sacred relationship to our cycles. The patriarchy has painted menstruation as an inconvenience, ovulation as a liability, and our hormonal flow as unreliable. But in truth, our cycle is the most consistent blueprint we have — the only material gift we enter and exit this life with.
Our ancestors lived in deep connection to these rhythms. Their lives were designed around them. They honored the slow days and the energetic days. They didn't expect themselves to live the same day twice. And yet today, we drink coffee to override our bodies, push through the sacred slowness of the luteal phase, and measure ourselves against a 24/7 masculine clock.
We are not broken. We are simply out of sync.
This is a remembrance. A return. A re-rooting in the ancestral intelligence of the feminine body. But it’s also a reclamation of how modern science now affirms what our grandmothers already knew: the female body is capable of vitality, fertility, and regeneration well into midlife — if we support her in the way she asks to be supported.
Let us remember the body. Let us reclaim rhythm. Let us reimagine what’s possible when we live in devotion to our own biology.
The Wisdom of Warmth: Ancestral Fertility Practices
In many traditional cultures, a warm womb was synonymous with a fertile womb. From East Asian medicine to Indigenous practices in Mexico and West Africa, there’s a shared belief that cold is the enemy of vitality, especially in the reproductive system.
The uterus is seen as the body’s energetic hearth, and when it becomes cold, either physically or energetically, its function diminishes. That’s why elder midwives and herbalists often insisted on socks, abdominal wraps, and warm teas, especially during the menstrual and luteal phases. It may sound simple, even silly, in our high-tech world, but keeping the feet warm increases circulation throughout the lower body, encouraging healthy blood flow to the ovaries and uterus. The is a practice recognized in Chinese traditional medicine, Ayurveda, and Indigenous wisdom.
Womb steams, castor oil packs, bone broth, and gentle abdominal massage were all part of the ancestral toolkit — not as “alternatives,” but as first-line medicine. The focus was prevention. The goal was never to conceive, but to cultivate a fertile environment — emotionally, physically, and spiritually.
The Modern Lens: My Personal Fertility Testing Journey
Inspired by this remembrance — and also deeply committed to self-knowledge — I recently began my own fertility testing journey, not out of fear, but out of curiosity and reverence. I am 29, so I am technically at the age where freezing one’s eggs may make sense, but also the age where fertility awareness is crucial to future life planning.
The process, though neveracking, was incredibly easy and affordable. I had an ultrasound to assess my antral follicle count — a way of visualizing how many eggs may be available in a given cycle. I also tested my Anti-Müllerian Hormone (AMH), a hormone produced by follicles that can give insight into ovarian reserve. The numbers don’t tell the whole story, but they offer a snapshot — and in a world where many women are surprised by sudden infertility, I wanted to be informed, not reactive.
I have always considered freezing my eggs as a decision to take my power. As women, we are often pressed and pressured by the unwavering experience of time. Western medicine has allowed us to take that time back for ourselves. To conceive on a timeline that makes sense for us. It’s not an easy or light decision. But it’s also not about panic — it’s about sovereignty. I want options. I want time. And I want to hold space for a reality where women in their 40s can thrive in fertility, whether naturally, through assisted technology, or a blend of both.