Life knocked me off my platform . . . but I've got an appointment on Thursday . . .

(The following post was written one week ago and thus comes before the Neon Arrow post, yet was not ready to be unleashed until now. . . )


The body is an amazing, incredible, precious thing. And a woman’s even more so for from it comes life.

I’ve always gone back and forth about children. I think I want them, I enjoy them, yet as a teacher I realize what it takes to be a good parent, to raise a child, I help parents through the hard times and am glad when I go home to my dogs who require only a belly rub, a little walk and a cuddle. Those aspects make me rethink the idea of motherhood. And they make me carefully think about bringing a child into the world, with whom, at what point in life.

For awhile I said that I would never want a child if I was not stable, had a well paying job, and a stellar partner. The joke these days that goes with picking a father is, “is this the man you want your children spending their weekends with.” Hmm what does that say about our society and about how we choose relationships and partners in life? And then there is adopting. I always had a funny feeling that I wouldn’t be able to have children that I would adopt even if I could. There are so many children that don’t have a home, how could I deny them one for selfishly wanting to create my own?

Tonight I did a summersault, half twist, nose dive, into a completely different frame of mind. I’m three days away from a doctor’s appointment that will let me know if there is cancer or not. And to find out they do a procedure that may have to be repeated for a few years as they keep checking. The procedure and even the treatment if there are cancer cells create risk factors in future pregnancies. Silly me I researched way to far until the hysterectomy word loomed in front of my face – blinking on and off with a crackle like a vacancy sign on a sleazy hotel. A hotel where countless ‘accidents’ happen giving children to mothers that have no idea how to care for them.

The past weeks I have been finding friends and family members who have been scared in this way, some much older after they’ve had a family, some younger on the verge. Talking with them I realized how I’m more scared of the thought of never having children, then of anything else. That is what makes the tears come. Not the doctors, not the description of procedures, not even the idea of being alone through this – well okay that part does suck but I am thankful to have friends that will come with me and pick me up, and hold my hand.

Years ago a roommate of mine had ovarian cancer. Her family was not around and I became the shoulder she leaned on. She was older then me, divorced, and had once been pregnant as a teenager, but aborted the child as her family wished. I will never forget bursting through the doors adorned with “no visitor’s allowed” after not being told where or what was happening, and finding her through the curtains of surgery prep cubicles. A pen in her hand, tears in her eyes, her body shaking as a nurse waited for her to sign the form that stated she understood that after the surgery to remove the cancer she would never have children.

And though I know now after researching this thing, that the chances of cancer are only 15%, that if it is they can get it out quickly – I’m beside myself, thinking of her in that surgical gown signing away her uterus, her motherhood.

I don’t think I am ready for children. I don’t have a job, a savings, hoping to have enough to get the jeep out of the shop. My partner, I know he likes the thought of children, but I don’t know that he understands what it means, especially for the mother, what it takes to be a family, and to be a parent. We’re just figuring out what it means to feed a healthy relationship with each other.

And at the same time, this appointment on Thursday, for the first time in my life I feel like I am on a schedule. Like I need to let nature take its course. My roommate was 34 when she lost her uterus. That’s not that far away.

It’s a precious thing to be a human. It’s a precious thing to be a woman. It’s a precious thing to be able to house life.

I have faith that it will all be fine, I’m manifesting that it was all a mix up anyway.

Almost a week later : Biopsy Smiopsy, I offered to personally take them to Hawaii, it would be fresher I argued, but alas the larger part of me is still here, and in three weeks they will tell me what level and if we wait and cheer the white blood cells to do their job, or if we do a little zip zap and just 'get er' done.' All in all it will be gone, it is not a huge deal in the grand scheme of things because it was an early catch. I had a great friend with me, and great friends afterwards.

However, the emotional and mental process of this 'catch' was a whirlwind and still is. And it made some things clear. I'm done waiting forever to get going on this sharing a life and creating a life thing. I'm ready to settle, in the light terms of settling. Meaning I want to start making steps to life partner family planning. No need for there not to still be adventures just family in tow instead of dinner for one. I'm not interested in waiting around for someone else to be ready. I am interested in taking steps forward, not meandering around for long periods of time waiting for everything to be exactly perfect. Because, things are never going to be exactly perfect. They are only going to be what they are, and as long as they are surrounded by good Intentions, Love, Communication, Partnership and Trust they will be good.