I celebrated a milestone with a little party at my house this week. I celebrated the end of my period! Why? Because I’m scheduled for a hysterectomy! Hubby and I have been married 19 years as of December 2009. We wrestled with infertility for 15 years, then started an International Adoption in November 2007. We were hoping for three children from Colombia. We had to turn down three sets of children in the process, they never actually did offer us what we asked for which was three healthy children, two boys and a girl, between zero and seven. We recently decided not to adopt three at one time. Furthermore, it is unlikely that we will adopt at all.
I may not join in when mothers speak of their children, I may never have photos of grandchildren to share. I may know nothing of those things and for a long time I felt like I had missed a fundamental element of what it means to be female. Women around the world, rich and poor women of every color shape and size were having children, but not me.
I was in a play a year ago where I played a young pregnant woman. I went through the whole pregnancy from the announcement to holding the baby in my arms each night of the show. It was a difficult challenge, thankfully there were a few close friends who helped me survive. During that season I grieved for the pregnancy I would never have. I got the stage pregnancy, in front of about 8,000 people (over the course of the show) and that is enough.
I’m having a hysterectomy on the 31st. It’s the end of an era for me that comes with some mixed feelings. That sad sad woman, who felt she was missing out, who felt like she was missing part of the experience of being female… that sad woman is going to need to move over, make a little room, give way for to a new creature. And this new woman is going to make her mark on this world, not through her offspring, but through her life.
When I wake up from surgery, my body will be renovated but I’ll still be all woman. And after the scars heal, I’ll get about the business of living my life. No longer childless, defined by what I am not and will never be. If you must define me by my family, then call me child-free. I’ll be strong, vibrant, creative, talented, and full of potential. And I’ll still be one hot bitch! I’ll tell ya, this has been one HELL of a long “period” and I am not sad to say goodbye. And if you listen closely when I’m home alone you might just hear me humming: “Happy Hysterectomy to me…”
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