The Shape of Grief
Wednesday, October 1, 2008 Over one year later, I am still discovering the shape of my grief over the loss of my uterus.
I miss a thing I could never see. I have no documentation of its existence. It does not show up in family photo albums. My clothing fits as it did before the surgery. I never touched it with my hands. I cannot trace its outlines in pictures or where it is no longer on my body.
The only evidence that it was ever here is a pregnancy test that I keep pushing to the back of the bathroom cupboard behind the cleaning supplies.
I do not like that it was cut up into tiny pieces and vacuumed out of me. I do not like that it became medical waste. No part of any body should be made into medical waste. Our bodies hold far too much power, far too much meaning, to be so degraded.
I am angry that I could not take it with me, that I could not find my own place to put to it to rest. I hate not knowing where its pieces are. I imagine it having its own sapling beneath which it could rest and feed its growth. I need to imagine it being less alone.
The shape of this grief is little more than a chronological line between two points, from there to here. It has yet find its flesh.
Reader Comments (19)
Heartbreakingly beautiful, this was.
I'm sorry :(
*hugs*
Truly touching. So very touching.
this struck me so hard today...
I think of you babe. xo
I'm sorry. Maybe you should make a uterus shaped cake and celebrate its existence on this anniversary? (Really not trying to be glib- maybe it would help!)
sounds like it's finding its' place in your heart, which is right where it should be. give it all the time it needs.
You have an amazing gift with words; I hope that writing offers you insight, perspective, and healing in your life. Keep on! Beautifully rendered on a subject so visceral and raw.
I feel you. I don't have a something to pinpoint, but I've been working through something similar though not physical. Here, have a cookie.
xo,
SL
So moving.
I'm so sorry...
What about a real "sapling beneath which it could rest"... Plant a tree perhaps?
I love your writing - it truly moves me.
HUgs from me- for what that's worth. Why couldn't you have it? Who told you you couldn't? That's just not right.
Like only you can say it, Schmutzie.
I can't tell you how much I appreciate your honesty, for allowing us to witness experience like this. It makes a difference for many more people than you can probably imagine.
Thinking of you.
I'm really, really sorry.
I think you are not alone in feeling this.
It's wrenching to not have something concrete to mark that loss, as if it were lost at sea.
I can't imagine your loss. I agree with you that no part of you should be thrown away. I love the image of the sapling growing above your uterus. I really hope it gets easier over time for you. *hug*
When I had a cyst removed from my breast, the surgeon made a 1 inch incision right around my nipple. I went in for a post-op and he was looking at it, admiring his handiwork. "Hey, this looks really good!" he said, as I stood there, trying not to vomit at my violated breast.
xo to you. i am so very very sorry.
I just went through a dozen of your posts because I stupidly deleted the feed for some reason. (I have not been myself lately.)
Conclusion: what a remarkable writer you are! You take a tall tale from school, an early dawn fight with a cat, a man who delivers flyers, then mix them up with feeling crazy (as I have felt, too), losing an organ to cancer, and even a girl who creates a kind of music with her flip flops.
Who else but Schmutzie?