It’s been two years since my uterus was taken from me.
A couple months after my hysterectomy, a mom at the park casually asked me how many kids I want to have. It was too soon, I had no quippy answer prepared to shrug off the question, and it caught me off guard. I ended up telling her everything that happened to me, and she reciprocated with stories of her own postpartum experiences. I am grateful for sisterhood, motherhood, personhood. Grateful to wear the marks of what it took to bring my children into this world. Grateful to be surrounded by supportive people who make space for me to express my hurt and confusion out loud.
TW: This story involves a discussion of medical details such as bleeding, surgery, and infertility.