This post is predominantly from the perspective of an aging female, so to my male readers, I apologize in advance.
I'm at an age where I have begun the tedious and meaningful task of unloading. Unloading unwanted and material items that I have no connection to or need for. Unburdening of things, people, situations and, well... body parts even, that no longer serve a purpose.
Before you think I've gone off my rocker and am into some weird cult fetish, let me assure you this was a very common reality among women in their early to late fifties... the hysterectomy.
I will say, to give some background, that I loved being pregnant. I was enthralled with the fascinating creation of another tiny perfect human from my self-perceived imperfections. How could that be possible? I knew the moment I conceived as well.. I could spiritually 'feel' that moment and I knew that something amazing had just transpired.... maybe due in part to my strong intuition and how tuned in I am with my physical being, but I can distinctly recall the feeling of that moment in time, even today.
The following months of pregnancy were blissful, for the most part. I had the typical rough patches that most women face with nausea and mood swings, but overall, people would constantly gush about how I 'positively glowed' during these months. And I truly felt like I did. The birthing process was a little rough, I must say, and I certainly had my share of issues that haunt me to this day, but the result of these perfectly honed tiny humans being a result of all that glory, was breathtaking. Then the days were filled with nothing but motherly duties: I loved every moment of it, through the sleepless nights, the incessant chatter and questions that seemingly never had the right answer, the tears, the arguments, the heartbreak as they grew and experienced life on their own. Through all of the journey's with each of my children, you grow, you grieve, you win, you lose, you discover, you remember, you wish, and you hope. Mostly though, you just Love. Endless, self-less Love, in its purest form.
So when the time came to deal with some physical issues that have plagued me for years as a result of bearing children, I was eager to have the problem dealt with and 'solved'.. sure, remove my uterus.. who needs it anymore? Pfft... done with that! Let's renovate the basement!
Well, surprisingly for me, it has been quite emotional, as well as highly uncomfortable. The procedure itself was complex as more than one was done at the same time, but overall, I had a laparoscopic hysterectomy, leaving my ovaries in place. It's been a week since the procedure was done, and I have four small wounds on and around my belly which represent that... but also look like stab wounds. And I feel like I've been stabbed and violated on a whole new level. I'm surprised at how attached I was to my femininity, having always been a strong, fiercely independent woman, a tomboy at heart, a rebel, a warrior.... but truly just a big ole softy. I feel like the vault door has been slammed and welded shut. My kids are all out of the house, I have limited contact with them in their busy lives, and I feel like the one part of me that was so critical in their existence has been forever erased. I can't explain how I feel really, other than profoundly sad. I keep telling myself its due to the level of discomfort, and that I haven't been sleeping well, but dammit, no! It's not that at all! I actually think I MISS my uterus!
The experience has forced me into a lot of introspection.. what makes me feel so sad? Why would a problematic uterus be such a big deal to have it removed?
I think I figured it out: for me, having the love of a partner to want to create children with them was a BIG deal. I was the girl who never wanted children. Nope. Not for me. But then life happened and my head strong ways began to shift and change, and whammo! Before I knew it, I was talking marriage and children with a man who I SWORE was my soulmate. When that all fell apart 11 years later, I was devastated, and then to have the next "one" last only four years after the birth of my son, more loss and devastation. There is a large part of me which still struggles to unconditionally accept and love the parts of me that didn't live up to my own expectations, and part of that was being able to provide the perfect "Ozzie and Harriette" lifestyle for my children, even though they are very beautiful, well balanced and amazing souls.. I feel I somehow failed to give them what I wanted to..what my vision of a family was.. I did not complete the Mission successfully.
Fast forward to this week, I consent to the renovations, thinking I was doing the body some good. Perhaps, but not the soul.. my soul is still grieving the loss of my initial intentions with my children. Life turned out very differently than I had planned, and I have a lot of regrets about that. This has really driven home that Time Passes.. it does not care about trivialities or how we feel, or what our plan was, it just continues to pass, morphing into something completely new without hesitation. So
Registered Psychiatric Nurse, Supportive Energy Therapy Practitioner, Yoga Instructor, Chartered Herbalist, AcuDetox Specialist, Personal Trainer, Entrepreneur, mom of three..
All Acceptance Addiction Connectivity Earthing Forgiveness Forgiving Gaia Grounding Healers Indralaya Judgements Letting Go Loss Memories Mentorship Peace Relationships Starting Over Therapeutic Touch