Period pain
A decade ago, I did not realise how much in pain I was until one day I almost fainted. It was just because it was the first day of my period and I thought it was starting to mess up with my life. Something must have been wrong.
But it wasn't until I was to depart, to embark in an adventure in a foreign land on my own for the first time, that I checked and (un)surprisingly ended up in an operation theatre a couple of days later. I had a cyst removed, a giant ball that weighed at least 500 grams. Causing me pain, taking hostage my left ovary, of which now just a shadow remains.
It was also the first time I was confronted with the question of whether I wanted children or not. Me, who was a closeted romantic, who didn't know if a guy would ever look at me but assumed that one day he would show up and suddenly everything will feel more grown up, more stable, more secure. That I would be able to enjoy the companionship and complicity that my parents shared, because even when their children left, when their friends parted ways, they had each other. I had only my incurable melancholy. So no, I had not thought seriously of having children until then.
In the grand scheme of things there was nothing to be decided, as -potentially- my life was at risk. The cyst was only shown after a MRI scan and they were not sure if it was a tumor or something milder. For all effects, I praise God that it was "just" a teratoma, a common benign ovarian tumor that has just required being in hormonal treatment for life. So whether I wanted children in a hopeful future yet to be disclosed or not was not under my control.
I have to admit that only later that year I felt finally mature enough to even think of a relationship. It has yet to happen, and in due course to my mid-thirties, I have grown suspicious of it happening at all. It has not diminished my thinking on the issue and my -gasp- desire to have a husband and one or two children. How beautiful would it be to look after them and to be encouraged by such an intimate relationship, someone leading me to Christ and challenging me in my sanctification. How amazing would it be to show these potential children the love of Christ. But that might as well not be my life.
Around this time last year I realised that I was going through extreme period pain again. A decade later, I have grown more aware of myself, in spiritual, emotional, and yes, physical ways. I went to the doctor back in my home country to check that everything was alright and the same worrying lines were written in the lab report. That prompted me for the first time to the very real possibility of not being able to have biological children. It broke my heart, and I cried for an hour on the street. Sitting down on a bench next to a bus stop not being able to even call my mum. Ashamed that I could be making this up in my mind and that I was alone, on the street, thinking of how the rest of my life will unfold and receiving odd words of comfort from people passing by (who thought I had broken up with my -imaginary- boyfriend he). I get teary thinking of the fear, grief and despair that it ensued, and how hard became trusting that God was on my side. I did feel silly and funny after my ob/gyn dismissed it as just PCOS, a diagnosis that made me understand so many things: the moodiness, the sugar levels, my pimples, the fact that despite not falling into extreme unhealthy eating I would not be able to lose weight....
The period pain is back though. My lower back has been acting funny, and after a couple of months I have realised that it is not my posture and that happens around my period. I am worried, sad, but not completely full (or out) of fear. The period pain is more than an annoying back issue: it is the grief of loneliness, of having to come to terms with goodbyes to certain futures, to even less confidence in presenting myself in front of a man, knowing myself potentially barren, broken. Feeling too slow in life, and thinking that maybe I could have had a child by now, if I were more upfront or the right person would have stepped in, just as it has happened to many of my lovely friends and it will happen to a handful of my younger ones. Coming to terms with the fact that Christ is enough.
Periods are a monthly reminder of a present that was not mine to have.
Period pain is a reminder that Christ is with me:
In the blazing fire
In the foreign land
In poverty
In uncertainty
In my (potential) barrenness
In all,
Christ is enough.
But it wasn't until I was to depart, to embark in an adventure in a foreign land on my own for the first time, that I checked and (un)surprisingly ended up in an operation theatre a couple of days later. I had a cyst removed, a giant ball that weighed at least 500 grams. Causing me pain, taking hostage my left ovary, of which now just a shadow remains.
It was also the first time I was confronted with the question of whether I wanted children or not. Me, who was a closeted romantic, who didn't know if a guy would ever look at me but assumed that one day he would show up and suddenly everything will feel more grown up, more stable, more secure. That I would be able to enjoy the companionship and complicity that my parents shared, because even when their children left, when their friends parted ways, they had each other. I had only my incurable melancholy. So no, I had not thought seriously of having children until then.
In the grand scheme of things there was nothing to be decided, as -potentially- my life was at risk. The cyst was only shown after a MRI scan and they were not sure if it was a tumor or something milder. For all effects, I praise God that it was "just" a teratoma, a common benign ovarian tumor that has just required being in hormonal treatment for life. So whether I wanted children in a hopeful future yet to be disclosed or not was not under my control.
I have to admit that only later that year I felt finally mature enough to even think of a relationship. It has yet to happen, and in due course to my mid-thirties, I have grown suspicious of it happening at all. It has not diminished my thinking on the issue and my -gasp- desire to have a husband and one or two children. How beautiful would it be to look after them and to be encouraged by such an intimate relationship, someone leading me to Christ and challenging me in my sanctification. How amazing would it be to show these potential children the love of Christ. But that might as well not be my life.
Around this time last year I realised that I was going through extreme period pain again. A decade later, I have grown more aware of myself, in spiritual, emotional, and yes, physical ways. I went to the doctor back in my home country to check that everything was alright and the same worrying lines were written in the lab report. That prompted me for the first time to the very real possibility of not being able to have biological children. It broke my heart, and I cried for an hour on the street. Sitting down on a bench next to a bus stop not being able to even call my mum. Ashamed that I could be making this up in my mind and that I was alone, on the street, thinking of how the rest of my life will unfold and receiving odd words of comfort from people passing by (who thought I had broken up with my -imaginary- boyfriend he). I get teary thinking of the fear, grief and despair that it ensued, and how hard became trusting that God was on my side. I did feel silly and funny after my ob/gyn dismissed it as just PCOS, a diagnosis that made me understand so many things: the moodiness, the sugar levels, my pimples, the fact that despite not falling into extreme unhealthy eating I would not be able to lose weight....
The period pain is back though. My lower back has been acting funny, and after a couple of months I have realised that it is not my posture and that happens around my period. I am worried, sad, but not completely full (or out) of fear. The period pain is more than an annoying back issue: it is the grief of loneliness, of having to come to terms with goodbyes to certain futures, to even less confidence in presenting myself in front of a man, knowing myself potentially barren, broken. Feeling too slow in life, and thinking that maybe I could have had a child by now, if I were more upfront or the right person would have stepped in, just as it has happened to many of my lovely friends and it will happen to a handful of my younger ones. Coming to terms with the fact that Christ is enough.
Periods are a monthly reminder of a present that was not mine to have.
Period pain is a reminder that Christ is with me:
In the blazing fire
In the foreign land
In poverty
In uncertainty
In my (potential) barrenness
In all,
Christ is enough.
Wow Tanya, I can relate to you on so many levels. Ahh, got all teary eyed, what a beautiful and difficult conclusion my friend, but yes, thanks for the reminder that Christ is enough. Thanks for your openness.
ResponderEliminarThanks friend for your thoughtful reading and response. So glad we can call each other sisters! :)
Eliminar