Untitled

Fingertips trailing,

Soft words spoken in the dark.

My head on his chest,

His heart beating quietly beneath.

My fingers entwined with his,

Silence in the loud world of my mind.

A few quiet moments,

A lifetime of love spoken,

Without words.

What does it mean to be a woman?

Women are defined in so many different ways. We are defined by our careers, our choices to have or not have children, choices about working or becoming a domestic diva, biologically, emotionally, mentally, our clothes, our hair, our make up and so much more.

When I was in my early 20’s I made the life altering decision to have my tubes tied. I had two beautiful little girls, one of which was born with a congenital heart disease. I had seen both heartwarming and gut wrenching things. I spent a lot of time deliberating, with myself before speaking to anyone about it. Even now, I’m still asked, “But don’t you want more?”. I made a choice not to have more children, for many reasons, there was no single reason and I still feel that it was the right choice for me.

Over the past year, I’ve faced some pretty scary possibilities regarding my reproductive system. I have had multiple blood tests, internal exams and a biopsy. There was a possibility of cancer and I won’t lie, that scared me a lot. The root of the problem was not cancer or some STD or my thyroid. It was simply my body producing too much of one hormone, not enough of another.

Now I’m facing a new decision that affects my view of myself, as a woman. I was given two corrective options when I went to my appointment about my biopsy results. The first was a Mirena IUD. This was the simplest, easiest solution due to time restrictions involving work and kids. Over time, I’ve decided this is not really my ideal choice. I am, in many ways, a Type A personality. I like to have everything planned out, I like punctuality, everything in neat packages, dealing with things head on, do it and get it done. My second choice was an endometrial ablation. In short, simple english, that second choice means having the lining in my uterus burned. A do it and get it done choice.

Let me be clear, that making the choice to have my tubes tied, was and continues to be in my eyes, a permanent choice. That procedure can and has been reversed for many women though and that has been a thought that has brought me comfort when my biological clock started to tick a little too loudly. An endometrial ablation is a choice that is more permanent, it scars the uterine wall, which makes pregnancy impossible. This is a procedure that I have thought about at great lengths and that I am actively pursuing right now because I have time and help.

My struggle lies with how I identify myself as a woman. I am, despite my choice to have my tubes tied, a woman, still within childbearing years. My body and all of the wonders it holds was built to give life. This procedure, although only in some subjective way, takes a piece of my womanhood, my identity as a mother and nurturer, as a whole woman. These are thoughts that have rolled through my mind over the past year. It seems to be a silly fear, but I’ve spent a lot of years learning who I am, learning to love myself so that I can love others and to have that identity change, even if it is for my well being has been a little overwhelming.

Dear Daughters

My Dear Daughters,

I wish that you could see that some of the things that seem so big right now, really aren’t. I wish that you could see how much life you have yet to experience, the places you will go, the people you will meet and the things that you will do. I wish that you knew you already are part of a much bigger scheme. Without even knowing, you constantly change the world around you just by being you.

I wish you could see all of the beautiful things about yourself that I do. The way you show your affection, the way you style your hair, how your eyes light up when you talk about your passions. I wish you were truly able to see how awesome your body is without feeling the weight of our society trying to tell you that beauty only comes in certain shapes and sizes.

I wish I could make it better. The broken heart, the inner turmoil and angst, the harsh words, fights with friends, that math homework that I just can’t seem to grasp to help you. I wish I could make it all better for you, every time.

I wish for you an incredible future laden with adventures and love and kindness. I hope that you are able to find appreciation for the small things that life has to offer that make it so good. I hope that I have taught you all you need to know before you attempt to make your own path. I hope that you are able to find happiness and that I helped you lay a good foundation to find it. I hope that you someday come to realize that the world really is your oyster and the only thing that can hold you back, is you. Most of all though, above all else, even when my words seem harsher than you think they should, I hope you know that I love you.

 

Teenage Dramatics and Parental Insanity

Today, I have to remind myself to breathe. I don’t just need to breathe, I need to breathe deeply and slowly. I love my children, but today is one of those days that my eldest has me feeling like I’m slowly drowning. Both of my children have their strengths and weaknesses, this is one of those weeks that I’m trying to give her the support she needs with compassion and composure without cracking myself.

It has been a long standing joke about my oldest’s dramatics. Most of the drama that she finds herself surrounded in, is caused by no other, but herself. I’ve worked hard to explain that sometimes there are toxic people that you cannot have in your life and that some people, the ones who truly love you need to be embraced rather than kept at arms length. She is still young though and struggles with the desire to fit somewhere, sometimes anywhere.

Within a three day span I have listened and tried to comfort as she complained about a young man that she games with, who in my opinion fits into that toxic category. There was a blowout with her best friend, something that happens once every week or two. I thought those blowouts were more exclusive to junior high, but apparently I was mistaken, because they’re juniors in high school. Then there are her mixed feelings surrounding her long distance boyfriend. She loves him, but she doesn’t. She wants a break, but she doesn’t. She wants to continue their relationship, but she doesn’t. I’m a strong woman, but lately, when trying to help her through and guide her, I don’t feel strong. I feel like curling up in a ball, crying and yelling at her to get it together.

I understand that 17 is a pivotal age, that transition before we’re considered “adults”. I remember the pressures, to fit in, to be wanted or needed or loved, feeling like I had to decide who I would be for the rest of my life, what I would do… I don’t remember causing myself as much inner turmoil as she does. I don’t fully comprehend it and some days, if I’m being completely honest, to use her words, I. just. can’t. even. Nearly all of her inner turmoil is within her mind, and how do I begin to explain that to her?

I told my daughters once that it was my goal to raise them into mostly well rounded adults without screwing them up too much. I’m starting to wonder though, if my real goal is to do that without going completely insane myself.