my uterus is fucked up. let’s skip the details and move on to the bit that’s been on my mind the last few days. when i went to the gyno she told me that with what’s happening inside of me, it’s going to be difficult for me to conceive. which, in all honesty, didn’t bother me too much seeing as i don’t really want kids. but then due to a recent conversation i thought about it, and maybe with the right partner having kids is something i could maybe actually do. it was a thought i had that was strange to me. foreign. abstract. unnatural. the idea of me being a mother. the thought that someone else and i could have parts of ourselves born into another being. i can’t say it exactly appealed to me, but i urged my imagination to guess at what it’d be like. i took deep breaths and when i imagine a certain someone by my side…it didn’t seem so bad. i thought, maybe, maybe i’ll be able to do this…one day…maybe.
and then after a follow up visit to the gyno, i read up on uteral issues to stumble upon a terrific statistic: women with my condition are four to five times more likely to miscarry.
that angered me. i probably would have been indifferent to that figure if i’d been in the same state of mind when i discovered it’ll be hard for me to get pregnant. but, i wasn’t. having a number slapped onto my fertility, it was upsetting. it made me feel alone. i wish that one thought-provoking conversation had never happened, because if i hadn’t considered the fact that i could want kids one day…it would have been one less thing for me to worry about. it would be one less reason to be hurt. it all just feels so damn unnecessary.
i should so like to be comforted.