I can feel myself getting quiet on the inside …
At this time last year, I had a procedure done to reduce the size of a benign fibroid tumor in my uterus.
It didn’t take.
Now, the tumor is the size of a grapefruit, and I can see it protruding from my tummy when I lay on my back.
The pain of my menses has escalated. So much so, I lay on the floor in tears, unable to get up. My doctor had to call in a prescription.
I am choosing to have the tumor—and my uterus—removed from my body.
I don’t want to wait until my body is so pissed with me for not listening that I end up in the hospital.
#realtalk: I am shaken to the core.
Not because of the surgery itself—it’s going to be laparoscopic, and I’m good with it. Since I am acting early, prayerfully, the surgeon can go in through my belly button. I am vetting referrals now, so we can schedule the surgery first quarter 2019.
What has shaken me to my core is confronting the reality that I will never have children.
Once my uterus is gone, the dream/fantasy/hope expires.
Right now, I am tending to the impact of the absence of my father, and it is profound. I find it compelling that my uterus removal is coinciding with my determination to make the energetic space for my father to know he is loved.
This is the same man who fought for me to be born. And I will never have children.
Walk with me …
In years past, I was so afraid I would act out the violence I was born into that I didn’t think I could have a child. I feared I would hurt a child the way I was hurt. My heart couldn’t run that risk.
Because I have loved both men and women, I did have chances to get pregnant when I was younger. But it was an option I turned down, because of my fears.
As I mature, I face my mortality.
I do not have a legacy. And once my uterus is removed, that quiet hope in the background of my heart dies.
Yes, I know I can adopt. That’s not this.
I am crystal clear my work is my legacy. That’s not this.
I know I can get a surrogate to carry. I will retain my eggs. That’s not the rub.
I will never feel life growing inside of me.
And for some reason, I feel a loss I cannot speak.
My doctor discussed options with me. I could try to get pregnant before I have surgery. I am 47, so that would be risky. I would need to start now. IF I and the baby made it through birth, the baby may not be healthy.
These are all worse case scenarios, and I am sure I could get another opinion.
That’s not my point.
My doctor also suggested we could buy more time by taking bioidentical hormones that could slow down (not diminish) the growth of the tumor. I could keep my uterus. Other fibroids may grow. Or not. We don’t know.
That’s not my concern.
My body has been hurt in ways too vivid to share on this platform. Men and women have acted out their wounds on my body.
I know I haven’t done anything wrong. I know I am not being punished by God on any level.
All this I know.
I am choosing to have the hysterectomy to claim my body as my own. And as sure as I write this, today, I know that on the other side of this, there is light.
You see, in a lot of ways, I have spent my entire adult life in recovery.
I have spent my life in reaction.
I have been undoing the damage that has been done and redeeming that which was taken, stolen, or sold to the highest bidder.
Not any more.
I am choosing me.
This is my body.
It is the only one I will have. I get to love it the way I love God.
And I never doubt God … so I will not doubt my body. If it wasn’t time, it would not be showing up.
I am not what happened to my body. AND I get to take care of the temple that God has blessed me with until I transcend to the next life.
There is no fear in me. Just a destined resolve to live free.
Free from the past.
Free from the historical wounds.
Free from the hurt acted out on my body that is now showing up in my uterus.
In my body, there are memories that are not my own. Pains and hurts I was born into …
But just because I was born into them, doesn’t mean they get to stay in my body.
I get to love this body. I get to care for this body. I get to enjoy this body. I get to live a free life—unsuppressed and unafraid.
So I redeem me.
I take back my body.
I heal, and I walk this world a free woman.
I cannot be contained.
And I wonder …
… what will it be like for the world to deal with a free, empowered, limitless, walk-in-my-own-authority, out of the box, ruthless, shameless, unapologetic, educated, “woke,” rich, accountable, responsible, fearless, truth-speaking, sh$t-talking, God-loving, gives zero f^%ks, transformed, healed me?
I feel sorry for the world on the other side of this season in my evolution. I sincerely do.
With all the love my heart can hold…