TRIGGER WORD WARNING: Women’s health, uterus, pain, and a healthy dose of sarcasm.
Women (c)GracieKHarold 2014
You are a pain right now. I hurt because of you. I am by no means a wuss. I once had a cyst rupture, yet I continued my speech and drove myself to be examined; where it was determined that I had lost close to 2 liters of blood. I don’t give in to your whining and sniveling easily. I don’t have time to slow down, cradle a heating pad, and curl up in the fetal position. I have blog posts to write, a book to promote, a husband to love, and 6 kids to raise, as well as some beloved girls to mentor.
For the last three weeks, I thought I had you properly ignored and pushed aside. I was wrong. Believe me, I am sorry.
I apologize for the way that I ignored the nagging pain and discomfort. I was wrong to procrastinate making an appointment. After the emergency room visit, two doctor appointments, three lab draws and debilitating pain; I humbly admit that I should have paid better attention to you.
This really hurts. Hugely. In a way that feels like a knife is scraping me as my entire insides are turned inside-out.
I am sorry that I let things digress to the place where I am currently on two different antibiotics, anti-hive medicine, antihistamine, pain killers, and anti-nausea medicine; not to mention the IV antibiotics that were given in the ER.
The irony is that I had just recently decided to become better friends with you. The truth is, for years I was bitter at you. I hated that you miscarried my two babies. I hated that you adamantly held on to the stretch marks from all of my pregnancies…in a bright red, obvious declaration that 5 little lives had once resided within.
Recently, however, I was challenged to join in on an international project which transformed my thinking about you. I am excited about the results (which will debut this Fall), yet I am also chagrined at how many years I have wasted in my hatred towards you.
Instead of honoring the gift of life that you held within me, I focused only on the negative qualities that you possess. I failed to be thankful for what and who you had given me…three children to hold, and two children to hold in my heart until I can hold them in my arms.
Recently discovering that I have a genetic disorder which causes stretching of my tendons and ligaments helped me understand that it’s not your fault; it’s simply who I am. James is quick to remind me that the red marks show visibly the depth of my love for each of our children.
A wise friend of mine once said, “As women, we compare our insides to other women’s outside appearance”. How many years did I waste comparing you, my insecurities, and my bitterness to other women’s fashion choices, make up artistry, or hairdo instead of seeing them as my sister, in need of encouragement.
So, dear uterus, you’re “killing” me here with pain, and the doctor’s orders are that I need to rest more than I am active…but I wanted to thank you for slowing me down enough to appreciate the gifts that you’ve given me.
“Marks of Love” (c)Gracie K. Harold 2014. only cropping has been done, no touch-ups or filters were applied.