Magda

I’m having surgery next Tuesday. I’ll be parting ways with my uterus, lovingly named Magda in the past 6 months. 

As far as I know, Magda isn’t hiding anything sinister, but she has had some issues for the past 18ish years, and my doctor and I decided together that now was the right time to wish her a bon voyage. 

After deciding to set the date, I clicked around to see how people chose to mark such an occasion. I found some who held good riddance parties for their dysfunctional reproductive organs, but I feel more of a similar sadness to when I sold our top-of-the-line rocking chair. 

Reading this back to myself, I'm sure it must sound bizarre to hear me compare a part of my body to a chair. The chair was a place I felt cushioned, comforted, and content. It had all the bells and whistles of a custom rocking chair. It reclined, rocked, glided, locked in place, and even came with a matching gliding footstool. I held both of my babies in that chair: a place of reading, of sickness, of hope and love. 

When we moved to our current home, there really wasn't a spot for it. "The baby" was three years old and preferred to cuddle in my bed, or read books on the floor. So we chose to pass it onto a new family, and I still feel wistful about the memory of that day, taking photos in the chair together for the last time.

What a luxury I was afforded, to be able to carry two beautiful and healthy babies to term tfu tfu. 

Magda survived chemotherapy and (with love and care from many professionals) grew our family. Magda is a warrior uterus. I do truly thank her for her service. 

I feel a deep sense of gratitude and connection to her, and my body in general, for my many doctors, and the access to healthcare, for the life I continue to live. While I’ve experienced several unexpected (and occasionally major) health challenges in my 48 years, some rotten days and nights, I am still here for the setbacks and the joys. 

Dog snuggles

Watching my small kid as a playwright in a room of adult actors

Getting a video call guitar session from my big kid

Hosting family for Passover seder

Birds chirping happily outside my window

Protesting injustice with tens of thousands of others

Reading books to my cousin’s babies over breakfast on the West Coast

Going to a hilarious show with my friends and laughing so hard my face hurt

Glimpsing the neighborhood fox prancing through the yard

Fresh sheets on my bed, chai tea in my hand, Wordle not yet solved 

Daffodils blooming and all the colors of spring 

Relishing in the wonder of other peoples' stories

A year ago, I was still struggling to drive, to be in the world with my eyes open. I have spoons again, and I feel lucky. 

Don't Hesitate

by Mary Oliver

If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, 
don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty 
of lives and whole towns destroyed or about 
to be. We are not wise, and not very often 
kind. And much can never be redeemed. 
Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this 
is its way of fighting back, that sometimes 
something happens better than all the riches 
or power in the world. It could be anything, 
but very likely you notice it in the instant 
when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the 
case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid 
of its plenty. Joy is not made to be a crumb.