Ode to a Uterus: Part 2 - A Real Goodbye This Time

 I didn't think I would be writing about my uterus anymore.  I did ten years ago when I had an endometrial ablation.   https://timetogolightly.blogspot.com/2013/08/thank-you-uterus.html  All has been good for a long time except some ovarian cysts and fibroids that weren't causing any long term problems. Last year, I did find out I was in menopause and began taking estrogen.   

About a month ago, the uterus became problematic again.  A visit with a nurse practioner, and the ER uncovered that my uterus decided to supersize with fibroids and was causing discomfort and pain. I learned about fibroid degeneration, and blood supply.  Tomorrow, I plan to learn more after the surgery is completed that will remove my uterus, fallopian tubes, ovaries and cervix. The key word is after surgery.  

I have learned some things about myself in the last twenty-seven years which was my last "big" surgery. 

I have anxiety.  At times, this anxiety grips my body in paralysis and my mind thinks it's never going to leave my person ever, ever again.  As my heart is racing, my stomach is turning, my whole body is activated but frozen and my thoughts turn to desperation and darkness.  How will I go on like this forevermore?  Who is going to save me? After some time has passed, and the grip of anxiety has lessened,  I forget that I have anxiety.  It has come to be a surprise over and over that this condition is my baseline.   I was shocked, I tell you, shocked when some years ago, my primary care doctor wrote in my chart, generalized anxiety disorder! 

In the past, when I wasn't in the thick of it, I had been in complete denial of it.Anxiety didn't interfere in my life's function until postpartum with my first child. I didn't know what was going on, but it tortured me.   

The last few years, with my fabulous therapist, I have used Internal Family Systems therapy to address and understand my baseline anxiety and feelings of abandonment.  Much time has been invested in knowledge about trauma in the body, and Complex PTSD, etc. For years, I focused on head knowledge which was an avoidant technique.  Now, I address it in the body with IFS, brainspotting, yoga, meditation, mindfulness and new understandings of the Trinity.  Now I know, I need to embrace the anxiety and make space for it and coexist with it, because it is a part of me. 

In late 1996, my last big surgery, was when I was first married and living in Buffalo, New York, while my husband was in his general surgery residency.  I began having abdominal pain and it was my appendix.  On the way to the Millard Fillmore Suburban hospital to have it removed, I'm sure I asked what was going to happen.  My husband told me every freaking detail of what was going to happen. In hindsight, it was best for me not to know the details, including the kicker that there was to be shaving of a certain region! Another thing to block out in that surgery, with my unclothed body laying on the table was a residency friend that had come to our Thanksgiving dinner who would be assisting.  There are things I needed to block out then and now and likely forevermore. 

When I had my appendix removed, I had the really unpleasant memory of being rolled into the OR, but not out under anesthesia yet.  I was very distressed as the room was cold and very bright, and I could see the sterile instruments and every one rushing around to prepare but there was no attention to me.  I felt so abandoned and alone.  It triggered something deeply embedded in me.  They were just doing their jobs but I very much had a reaction that has stayed with me to this day and is coming up as I type this. 

This time, twenty seven years later, I am able to speak up and ask that I not be rolled into the OR until I'm out, ask for a hand or some acknowledgment.  Anything for me to speak up and express myself!   

I am the person to save me. For a few decades, I didn't know how to ask.  I suffered in silence.  I didn't feel worthy to speak up.  

Yesterday, as I discussed the upcoming procedure with a friend group, and I told them about the blog from ten years ago, and how I had wanted to acknowledge my uterus and it's job, my friend started laughing.  She brought up sentiments of Marie Kondo, the house organizer:  In letting go of objects in the home, she would thank them for their service and let them go if they did not spark joy anymore.   

My uterus is banging into my bladder and other parts and is not sparking joy anymore!!  I once again am profoundly thankful for having the privilege of carrying two of the lights of my lives and giving birth.  There was a time, I didn't think that would happen and I am still grateful. 

 I am also grateful to say goodbye to these four reproductive parts.  It is time.  I hope to be productive in other ways using other parts as I continue on with this adventure of life. 

Namaste~

I Go To the Gym to Meditate (Not Exercise)

My relationship with the gym is changing.  Old school me would have to make myself go, because I'm supposed to be there and it was based on looks. Now at fifty-five, it's more about being able to move and function!  I hope to have grandchildren one day and I want to be active with them.  When we took a two week nonstop group trip to Europe this summer,  I wanted to be able to keep up and not struggle, so I trained.  Moving my body now, makes me feel good. 

I also am learning that sitting with my body and thoughts, makes me feel good. 

Actually, better than the gym does. 

As a person who has suffered with anxiety forever (and didn't know it), hypervigilance and people pleasing, I had no idea how much I needed to be still and know that I am.  

Recently, I realized that the only classes I was actually attending at Woman's Center for Wellness were "Yoga Nidra" (gentle yoga with 20 minute guided meditation)  and a  "Breathe and Connect" which was total meditation.  I was going to the gym to meditate?!!  At first, I thought I'm a slacker, but then I discovered practicing in a group honed my skills and that is what I needed at this time.  

I have heard about meditation forever.  I knew it was SO good but when I sat down and tried over the years, I struggled.  I would try here and there.   At church, it was called centering prayer.  I remember sitting in a graduate school class and trying to breathe as instructed and making myself dizzy.  I did not take to it naturally at all.  

It has taken decades to gain this skill.  When I was taking more intense yoga classes and at the short shavasana at the end, emotions would come up and that freaked me out.  I was not okay with what came up because yoga was supposed to be relaxing.  

There is a good Netflix series called "Headspace: Guide to Meditation" by Andy Puddicombe.  He describes meditation as: "a skill of training our mind so that we can have a calmer, clearer mind and a greater sense of ease in our mind, our body and our life."  Andy reports how science has studied how meditation affects heart rate, blood pressure and stress levels and even the structure of the brain.  I can actually change the hardwiring of my brain to lessen anxiety.   That seems really unfathomable to me, but I am slowly seeing that very thing occurring. 

All of that sounds good doesn't it, but it's really REAL.

Mr. Puddicombe also describes how he thought he could think himself out of losses in his life.  I so identify with this.  I wanted to excise any negative emotion that came up.  My feelings frightened me. I was phobic of them.  He states that training the mind is about changing our relationship with the passive thoughts and feelings that come up.  We change our perspective on them and we naturally find a place of calm.  

Ding! Ding! Ding!

This immediately reminds me of an instagram post I read recently.  The opening slide attributed to Lexi Florentina states: We don't actually heal or "get rid of" our pain, trauma or grief.  Instead, we build capacity to coexist with it in a way where presence, safety, and joy can also take place.  

And then she takes the idea further...

Wow! 

The trauma, pain and distress will always be with us, but it is less intense as we process it.  With my therapist, I have processed some of my trauma, and I learned to be with it using IFS therapy.  Over time, I became less emotionally overwhelmed and began to welcome and nurture the scared, anxious, abandoned parts of my younger self. 

I can see now that meditation is a version of this.  I watch my thoughts go by and not attach to them or become them.  I use breathing as a major component to come back to the present as the restless thoughts always appear.  Sometimes, I repeat a positive intention word over and over.  There's so many ways. 

I'm so glad the gym offers Yoga Nidra and Breathe and Connect classes and I tried them!  They strengthened my meditation practice greatly.  One teacher was new to me but her meditation and the calming, nurturing way she led the guided meditation in shavasana was exactly what I needed.  The other teacher was one that I have taken classes from for years and she has taught me during that time to be kind and gentle with myself and send love to the parts of the body that we were stretching.  

So meditation and cardio.  Yoga Nidra and strength training.  The gym can be a place to meditate. 

Both/And

 

Namaste.

Taking A Break From Therapy But Not Healing

 A Quote from Jeff Brown

“At some point on the journey, you may reach a point where you want to ease the throttle of transformation. Not where you stop growing, but where you stop utilizing your will to affect personal change. You’re still growthful, but it’s different. It’s gentler, and it’s more about accepting what is, than changing it. You reach a place where you are more embracing of who you are, and of how far you have come, and you feel ready to work with what you’ve got. It’s important to notice this moment, if it arrives. Because there is a real peace in that tender self-acceptance. And, ironically, it may ignite the most profound change of all.”

This really resonates at this point in time.  I am taking a break from therapy.  I didn't see this happening, it just dawned on me after a few intense years.  I have been on a mission to heal myself for such a very long time. And prior to the pandemic until about February of this year, I engaged in Internal Family Systems therapy with my long time therapist.  I dug up some of my most intense past experiences, some from childhood, which I had no idea were residing in me and began the process of learning how to soothe myself and those parts.  It was intense, eye opening, exhausting and healing work.  I could be affected for day or longer.  I have processed so much sadness, anger, and hurt.  

It's not an easy path.

 

It's slow growth.

But I am thrilled that I am still on it.  Every small awareness leads to others down the road. 

The Psalm verse states, "Be still and know that I am God..."  

This is that practice.

Taking a break from actively drawing out pain bodies seems to be my path right now.  I am listening to myself and this is an act of nurturance.  That is a key to my journey now.  Learning to be kind to myself, and determining what is the most loving thing I can do for me. 

"You should love your neighbor as you love yourself..."

I have loathed myself for a large portion of my life.  The thoughts in my head are so cruel.  I see how this verse, really really applies to human nature and to me.  The more we nurture ourself, the more love for others just naturally springs forth. I have felt that so many times and stand in sheer amazement.

Being a human in this world means that every day something is going to come along to process and now I'm practicing what I have learned over the years.  This break from therapy, means process life as it is. So many times during the day, my stomach turns with anxiety.  The goal is to welcome that anxiety and not run from it, not numb it and lovingly BE with it. This takes a lot of practice.  Something that helps is meditation and bit by bit, I am practicing that too.  

One key act of nurturance towards myself is slowing down my yoga practice.  Instead of more intense power yoga, I unconsciously sought out restorative yoga.  I found Nidra Yoga.  And over the course of attending a particular class, the teacher made adjustments and it became more restorative.  For half of the class, we are in savasana listening to the teacher guide us through a loving meditation. During one of the first sessions, as the teacher kindly, lovingly spoke to us and our worth, tears flowed and I knew, finally understood, oh, THIS is what is meant by nurturing myself. This is being kind to myself. Pushing myself to do the intense yoga and hold poses, hurting myself to keep up, is not. 

Being, and taking care of the parts of myself that needed unconditional love in the past is my path forward.  This is reparenting myself:  listening to my divine intuition, paying attention to new awarenesses and recognizing the flow of love inside and outside. 

Namaste. 

Greeting Pain With Loving Kindness: A Lesson From Turning Red

 I am trying to watch as many Oscar nominated movies as I can before the Academy Awards show on March 12. It's an annual tradition and I have to come to terms with watching movies that are not my genre or that I really don't understand, yet usually I find a nugget of a really great truth.  Last night, there was a wonderful moment and it couldn't have been timed any better. 

At this point, I've watched most of the dramas and now I move to watch animated films.  They are my least favorite genre behind action, war or fantasy.  Last night, we viewed "Turning Red" from Disney.  I came into it with low expectations, and it was "free" as we subscribe to Disney streaming.  It was one more box I could check off my crumpled Oscar nominations page.  I have also been obsessively filling out the same online quiz to up my score for how many of the 2023 Oscar nominated movies I have watched compared to others.  I know it's not a hard feat, but I love it. 

I knew there was a possibility that something would hit home for me in this Disney movie.  ("Dig A Little Deeper" from "Princess and the Frog" comes to mind first and I think I wrote about it)

I have been acutely struggling with sadness and anxiety for the last year or so.  The last days, I was really grappling hard with sadness.   It is not a new struggle and I found journals where I wrote the same feelings 6 and 7 years ago. I was writing the SAME exact feelings!!  I chuckled out loud and that felt huge.  I began thinking that as freaking uncomfortable as these feelings are, they are not going anywhere.  And the more gently that I accept them and even welcome them(!!!),  they may grow to be less uncomfortable.  

The following are ideas from ten years ago in my notes on my Iphone, and I will attribute them to Mary O'Malley, an author and therapist whom I likely heard them from at the time: The frontal lobe is dualistic in nature:  we have been conditioned from very early on to live in war.  Our core compulsion is to struggle.  All other compulsions are an attempt to numb out the constant unease of this struggle. What you control, controls you. 

What you control, controls you. 

Eeesh.

Acceptance it is. 

It seems that acceptance is always the solution but it may take time to see and become aware of it.  The pain stands in the way of acceptance. Pain and discomfort need to be welcomed like old friends. Yes, really.  I push pain away, fear it and become obsessed with it.  It is the most difficult assignment, but yet time and time again, this truth is exposed to me. 

What I have come to understand is that I feel like I am becoming sadness, not that it's just come for a visit.  Sadness and anxiety are a protection from from the past, decades ago.  There were events that I could not handle on my own and these were protective mechanisms for younger me. The current me, the older, wiser me has learned tools to better accommodate life.  

Back to "Turning Red"as George, Mallory and I are watching it. Mei is a thirteen year old teenager who is now turning into a red panda when experiencing intense emotion due to powers passed down matrilineally.  The first time she turned into the "monster" while having both anger and joy, I turned to Mallory and said something, like... here we go.  

And then later on in the movie was this fantastic moment as her dad explains to Mei:

"People have all kinds of sides to them and some sides are messy, the point isn't to push the bad stuff away, it's to make room for it, live with it." 

Wow, wow, wow. 

I once again turned to Mallory and said something about here it is (the truth bomb).  She turned her head towards me and had a quiet smile of recognition.

I ADORE and live for these moments. Moments on film or life that reflect something that I have grappled so hard with and I hear the same truth that I have painfully come to.  I love that my daughters and I even lightly touch upon truths that I did not come to understand until my forties and now fifties. 

If watching an animated Disney movie is the catalyst, it's so worth it!

Some of life's greatest pleasures come when you least expect it. 

Namaste.

A Little Something to Dream On

 Over the weekend, I engaged George in assisting me to declutter.  Sometimes, I need a warm body for companionship but one with a high reach is always especially helpful.  My main goal was to get the bookcase next to my bed cleaned up as it was overflowing.  There were steps to the process both literally and figuratively. There were hard decisions to be made, this time about books to keep or let go of as well as objects that had special memories but no place for display. As I was trying to find space to move books around, I came across a book in the living room bookcase (as opposed to the bedroom, dining room, or spare room bookcases!)  I immediately knew who it was from. 

It is a small collection of essays about Provence given to me by Aunt Joy, my father's one and only sibling. She passed away in 2003 before I knew exactly how much we were alike.  I am still becoming aware of who I am and giving myself permission to do so.  It has been a reassurance that I was like someone in my family.  Aunt Joy moved away from our hometown of Ethel after high school, went to college for social work and married a doctor in New Orleans.  She loved the arts and to laugh.  Her advice for family get togethers was to avoid discussion of religion or politics.  

She and I would have been okay to discuss politics because I believe we were on the same page, I just didn't know it as clearly as I do now.  

I would have been interested in her take on religion as well. 

The book had an inscription and was dated 1990.  

Something to dream on.  

Provence.   Excitement bubbles to the surface as I thought of our upcoming summer trip. 

Oh my! Oh my! Oh my! 

Am I going to Provence? 

We have a European school trip planned for June including France.  Are we going there?!!!  

I run to find the itinerary and I actually know where it is!!

I cannot remember things as clearly as I use to.  And I NEVER thought I would be traveling to Europe... again.  My family went to the UK in July and it was extraordinary.  A trip I will never forgot.  When I think of it, I am filled with JOY.  

I find the papers. 

WE ARE GOING TO PROVENCE! 

How thrilling!  This is a huge God wink and I take it in.  Thirty three years later,  and a present from the past comes alive again.  A wonderful time to remember my aunt, to remind me to laugh, and to Dream. 

How many dreams do I have now?  It seems like I stay more concerned with surviving and working to stay peaceful in my heart and mind.  This is a wonderful check to ponder dreams. I have dreams for my children but what I am dreaming of for myself.  At times, I don't feel worthy, but in this particular instance, this book and this trip, is totally kismet.   

Also, dreams don't have to be grand.  They can be quietly purposeful.

Namaste

Aunt Joy with her grandson Jack around June 2002 on a riverboat in New Orleans.  I would have been pregnant with Riley due in October 2002.

This picture was taken outside of her home on 39 Lark in New Orleans. From left to right, My brother (in chair) Aunt Joy, cousin Kay, myself, and my mom and dad.  The date is sometime in the late seventies? 

My Pledge to Write Again

I have not been writing blogs as much in the last few years and that is disappointing.   I hear many people say that they write to process life and I concur.  I didn't know that when I started writing here fourteen years ago but it is necessary for me.  It's not that I don't have content because the last year, and those preceding,  I processed much but I just wasn't writing about it. 

Unused creativity is not benign as Brene Brown is quoted.  In just looking up that quote, I realize that I have been feeling all of that: grief, rage, judgment, sorrow and shame.  

I have to figure out how to sit down and write again. And allow the words to flow through.  And let go of the judgment.  

Sometimes ideas have to percolate. Sometimes the material is really personal and it's hard to share out loud.   For some reason, I want to share in a public forum but this is ripe with drawbacks.  Who will read it and will there be a negative reaction? I have experienced those.  I have been waiting to be criticized my whole life.  What I have found is that by the time it makes it to this forum, I have deliberated on it long enough and it flows out.  There is divinity in that flow and there is a joy and truth that occurs along with it. 

I have also found positive remarks from persons who I did not expect to hear from and the only way this occurs is to share publicly.  You never know who it will connect with.  My writing is not meant for everyone of course, but I need it. 

These are unused pictures in the hallway leading up to our primary bedroom.  I have decided I no longer want them in the places they use to hang.  A friend looked at some of them hanging in our dining room and commented about the color of the picture frames and she was 100 percent correct.  I needed another pair of eyes to awaken my senses.  I then looked around at everything hanging on the walls and knew I needed to shake things up and I did and then I got tired and maybe the holidays kicked in...

I have to decide what to do with these last items.  Some are treasured and some I use to treasure.   This process started late October and as of January 9th, today, they are still sitting in the hallway.  God bless my patient husband. 

Processing takes time, whether is processing the events of life or choosing which pictures to hang.   Letting go of the past and being in the present. I know the desire to get this cleaned up will come. Sometimes you just have to Wait for it. 

It's Quiet In The House

 We lost 2 beloved pets within two weeks.  A rescue kitty whom had graced us with her presence for fourteen years and whom my younger daughter had come to adore in the last two years.   Eleven days later, we had to put our rescue Beagle of ten years down. 

The ends of their lives were not pretty.  For months I wanted to write about aging pets but never did. The way they were slowing down bit by bit and the circle of life.  It is hard to make the decisions when the time come.  This was my third cat and first dog.  Making the decision on the second cat five years ago was brutal, it brought up past grief as all loss does. I can picture the scene exactly and how emotionally draining it was to have to choose to snuff this life out.  My veterinarian was fabulous and took time to go through the whole process and talk quality of life.  He was kind, gentle and informative.  I talked to a lifelong friend who also worked with animals.  And then I had to do the deed. 

This time with more experience, decisions came more easily but still wrought with emotion.  Princess had stopped eating as her kidneys were shutting down and she had lost nearly half of her body weight.  Annie's cough had increased in frequency and duration.  It was a death knell and excruciating to hear.

My younger daughter came with me to the vet's office both times for the euthanizations. My husband had Covid the second time for our beagle and couldn't come.  We stayed for the sedation shot in the same room both times and it was a peaceful process with Princess.  Annie, as she relaxed began the horrible loud breathing noise that had recently begun as her lungs were congested with fluid.  Annie helped me to know, this too was the right time for her.

In the vets room, we cried and we told them our goodbyes.  I verbalized how much they meant to me, and laughed about the funny stuff.  Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion via Dolly Parton through Truvy in Steel Magnolias. 

I did know that it was time to let them both go. 

This is the first loss that my youngest daughter remembers and she is grieving.  We Facetimed with our college daughter to keep her in the loop as we made decisions.  She was able to say goodbye through video.  The family cohesiveness was reassuring.

A new normal has begun.  The house is especially quiet.  No more coughing, loud breathing, throwing up or pooping in the wrong places. No more running to make sure Annie goes outside as soon as she gets out the bed and staying on top of when she needed to go out again. We are putting away the many sets of stairs we had for Annie to access our couches as well as the food bowl and leash.  We are all adjusting. Brinkley, the mixed breed dog is adjusting.  He is a very emotional dog and loves George and as he was home with Covid, I think it helped Brinkley adjust to being the solo dog for the first few days. 

On Friday, when George went back to work, I walked without Annie for the first time in ten years.   I used to dread the walks when we first got her but over time, I love getting out.  I interact with neighbors and strangers. On so many occasions, neighbors or passerbys would comment because my arms were always stretched in the opposite directions, Brinkley, the swift one in front, and Annie, the elder lagging behind. At first she lagged behind for the sniffing, but then it was about age and lung capacity.  People would comment about how white her fur was and how old Annie looked.  (I felt those comments)  In the last weeks, we had to walk Annie shorter and shorter distances.  But this time, Brinkley and I could walk briskly.  Now there is only one treat to give out. I had to use treats a lot with Annie.  I had to touch her with her diminished hearing and wake her up and coax her to go outside and relieve herself, otherwise it would end up on my carpet.  She would look at me blankly like I was a crazy, and then she began moving, oh so very slowly.  I understood her slowness.  

Last weekend, before Annie moved on the great mystery, we made an abrupt decision and adopted another cat, nine days after putting Princess down. Of course, it was too soon but my rationalizations could not hold up against the wistful faces and desires of the other two humans that day.   It was too soon for Mallory, because she still misses Princess dreadfully.  I beat myself up over going through with it, but am letting it go.  The new kitty is all over Mallory and staying in her part of the house.  This is for new cat to adjust as well as make friends with Brinkley, who is very eager to make her acquaintance. She is beautiful, skittish, and slowly adventuring out.  New sightings are are so much fun. 

I am waiting patiently as Elizabeth lets me in to bond which Mallory very much wants to occur.  And yes, we are naming her Elizabeth... after Bennett of Pride and Prejudice and of course, the late Queenie, with many nicknames available. 

Mallory had told me that Elizabeth likes to visit her when she sits on the toilet (and when she is sleeping and studying).  So when Mallory is not here,  I use that toilet.  And bam, out comes Lizzie rubbing up against my legs. I am generally able to get a nice visit in by gentling swooping her up and petting her very generously. 

It was too soon to adopt her but I can see that this sweet blip of a presence is giving me life.  I am attuning to a flash of white and griege in my eyeline.   She is different from Princess and I am embracing that.  I am letting her be.  I cannot force myself on her.  I have to let her be who she is. 

I am affirming that for myself as well. 

I am letting go of some old ideas and embracing the new.  There are thought patterns I have to let go of that only cause me pain and the only way through is to feel them. Last night, I simply adored crying and petting Elizabeth all at the same time.  I was grieving the old and embracing the new and she didn't seem to mind at all. 

Pets are incredible. 

RIP Princess & Annie. We loved most every minute we had with you, minus the excrement in the wrong places.  You brought us joy, laughter and companionship for so many years. ❤️❤️

Namaste.