I am a nearly 37 year old mother of 2 beautiful blessings. I try to remind myself daily of that, especially when they’ve called my name for the umpteenth time! Generally speaking, they are smart and kind and loving. They show me what my anger looks like when they’re angry, and they reflect love so well, sometimes it takes my breath away. My husband and I have tried hard to raise these 2 people the same but differently because they each need something different from us and from life. My 4th grader wants to be an art teacher but hates to read, and my 1st grader is just learning how to read well, wants to be an astronaut and a pizza maker.
I, however, always saw myself having a large family, but after a pregnancy scare about 5 years ago, my husband “took one for the team” a few years ago. It was also made even more sure when I was told I needed a partial hysterectomy. I knew it was coming to be honest. My doctor says he has let me go long enough. Most women have joked at one time or another, wishing away their cycles because it comes while we’re on vacation or follows us to that party where our dresses may be a little tight. Once a month our lives are semi disrupted by this “gift” that makes us uniquely female. But I have to be honest, I feel embarrassed by the fact that my body doesn’t work the way it’s supposed to. Mother Nature didn’t get to gradually move me into menopause. I am a woman, and while I know we are through having children, I am not convinced that desire to feel a baby kick me from the inside will ever fade. I am grieving something that’s driven my crazy for nearly 30 years but also great joy in its absence.
The silver lining in this, I suppose, is that I will never have to carry a purse with those “just in case” tampons!
