Mourning the impending death of my uterus


Not only am I creepily naked and sobbing in the above photos, I am also disgustingly smearing my lipstick, so that it symbolizes the last period I will ever have in my life.

A lot of women hate their periods. I really didn’t until the periods became unbearable. Going into the crone phase, even if it is partial, scares the shit out of me.

Pretty emo for someone of a half-century, I will admit. It’s my crotch party and I’ll cry if I want to…

While my first inclination, as always, is to make snarky jokes about the robots coming for my lady parts tomorrow- I can’t stop crying.

Words fail me.

The fact that I’m having essential organs- parts that are meaningless and useless now- that somehow DEFINED THIS MEAT SUIT for me- removed permanently really is messing with my brain right now.

If I leaned more towards the esoteric, I could just say this is all illusory… this body, this gender, this glove we wear.

I can’t fucking do it. I am grieving, mourning- an anxiety ridden mess.

All the worst case scenarios run through my head:

What if I die on the table?  What if I am that small percentage that has cancer and it causes it to spread?


Luckily, now very few hospitals combine DaVinci robotic surgery with morcellation:


The entire thing is usually pulled out of the vagina, presumably after the robotic bits sever the organs from their places.

Still, fucking scary.

My friends and family who have gone through this say it’s a piece of cake- I will no longer be in constant pain, I will love it, etc.

As a consolation prize, they will take my fallopian tubes and keep my ovaries- as long as I agree to ultrasounds every 6 months to monitor the cysts. This means I can go into eventual natural menopause and not instant menopause, as I have Factor V Leiden and can never use hormone replacement.

Also, what makes us female? Is it biological, is it physical, is it a dangly bit of spongy flesh in our innards- is it a hardwiring of of hypothalamus? Is it a spiritual choice made prior to incarnating?

WTF IS it?! Do I become some gender fluid, non-pronoun using being after this?

I don’t know why I am so hysterical right now- I just know that I am.

I know I won’t cease to be ME, who or whatever that may be (unless I die, of course).

I surely didn’t freak out like this when they took my gallbladder almost 2 decades ago.

I’m just scared, I guess. Scared shitless.

My stomach is fat, like a woman 4-5 months pregnant- the adenomyosis has me swollen like a tick on a dog.

I feel miserable. This procedure is supposed to make it all better.

I hope it does.

Losing pieces of ourselves, I wonder if zombies feel the same way, if they were real and could think.

“Oh, shit, my whole crotch just fell out… need more brains…”

Yeah, I need more brains.


I haven’t been able to write or update about my mom, but here are some photos from today…

It is heartbreaking. I have no words. My son and I visited this afternoon.


Today in Maisie History: She thinks the GI Joe is “Daddy” and piano playing time…

2 out of 3 of her favorite things today

2 out of 3 of her favorite things today

I have decided to do posts with pics of my sweetums going about her day (because I am one of THOSE mothers… and I do what I want when I want… lol)

piano playing is serious business...

piano playing is serious business…

Jamming out, because she heard her pianist brother doing so from his real piano

Jamming out, because she heard her pianist brother doing so from his real piano

Today, Maisie was all about 3 things: Her new Fisher Price dollhouse, her Melissa and Doug toy piano, and her GI Joe doll. She likes to kiss and kiss Joe and call him “Daddy”.

she is convinced that Joe is a doll version of her daddy

she is convinced that Joe is a doll version of her daddy

probably because he plastic head is delicious to teething toddlers

probably because he plastic head is delicious to teething toddlers

this ugly thing gets all the kisses

this ugly thing gets all the kisses

I love the Melissa and Doug piano because it is so sturdy and well built. It’s a toy, so it’s woefully out of tune, but still comes with a little songbook. It’s a heavy piece, too… not prone to tipping at all.

The GI Joe was probably out of her brothers’ stash from long ago, when they were children. It’s ugly and has a green face.

So ends my toy review efforts for today 🙂