"It's important
that we share our experiences with other people. Your story will heal you and
your story will heal somebody else. When you tell your story, you free yourself
and give other people permission to acknowledge their own story." -Iyanla
Vanzant
“Wow, so you’ve gained some serious weight since your last
physical. Are you just sitting at your desk all day? You need to get you
moving!” the physical therapist at my annual work physical blurted out. As if I
wasn’t already super conscious about my rapidly changing body…his blunt
comments sealed the deal.
“Well, I just got married…maybe it’s the “freshman 15” x 2?”
I tried to joke back to lighten the mood, so I wouldn’t start crying.
In all honesty, I had no idea what was going on with my
body. I was exhausted, no matter how much sleep I got the night before. I was
achy down to my bones and moved like a brittle old woman. I loved to run, but I
just simply couldn’t get my body to move that way anymore. I felt stressed all
the time. I was gaining weight fast, my body inflamed and swelling up like I
was stung by a giant bumblebee. I was pretty sure I was becoming the new poster
child for the bearded woman…every woman should rock a 5 o’clock shadow, right?!
I hadn’t had a period in 6 months. As much as I wished I were miraculously
pregnant…I was left empty and barren month after month.
Doctor, doctor, doctor. Test, test, test. Please, please,
please…will someone help figure out what’s wrong with me?
“Well…you’ve got
Hypothyroidism. You’re so tired and gaining weight. Here’s a pill to help
that.”
“Well…you’ve got a
nasty case of Bell’s Palsy. You’re stressed and have so much inflammation,
you’ll have permeant facial paralysis. There’s no pill to help that”
“Well…you’ve got
Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. You’re an achy ballooning, barren bearded woman.
Here’s a pill to help that.”
7 different doctors. 3 different diagnoses. 5 years. 100’s
of pills. 1 body…continuing to fail.
“Well, well,
well…you’ve got Adenomyosis. You’re crampy, clotting, bloated, nauseous,
anemic, and hormonally imbalance. Your
hair is falling out in clumps. You’ve gained 70 lbs. You’re depressed, anxious
and you have pain everywhere. There’s no pill to help that. You’re getting worse.
At this point we can do a hysterectomy.”
32 years old. 0 pregnancies. 0 miscarriages. 1 broken body.
1 broken womb.
So…The End has finally come. Hysterectomy. It's a sad and happy grief at the same time. While glowing women around me
are in their prime of birthing babies, I will lose that part of me to a
hysterectomy. My miracle babies will hopefully still come to me in a different
way. Hopefully The End means a new beginning, with a less broken body.
This story of ours, the heartbreak and healing, trials and
triumph, mourning and miracles, grief and gratitude, pain and pure joy, has
taken the blinders from my eyes. All of our stories are intertwined. Loss,
grief and sadness seeps into all of our lives, in one way or another. And we
all have experiences that leave our shoulders pinned beneath heavy
boulders. Some loads last only days, others last months to years and some last
a lifetime. Some loads simply titter off, while some threatening
to come crashing down on us. Despite these rockfalls of life, these
burdens don't have to render you worthless. You have worth, no matter what load
you are carrying. You are always enough. You are always loved. Someday you will
be stronger...because of these loads. Be gentle with yourself and love
yourself...because so many others do.
We'll make it through.
