But there was something my sisterhood didn’t warn me about.They told me all about what would happen to me physically.Since I had not expected any such thing to happen to me, and I had been feeling sorry for myself, this offer came as a great surprise.
The parcel had been sent from the United States and the letter along with it was from my uncle who had sent me that wonderful gift.
However, even more joy than receiving the tape recorder was the letter which my uncle had written.
I ran to answer it and found the postman with a parcel and a letter for me. My hands were itching to open the packet as my curiosity knew no bounds.
I ripped the parcel open and found a beautiful tape recorder in it.
I walked into the hospital on surgery day prepped with items I was told to pack and advice from other women who’d gotten a hysterectomy.
They warned me to stay ahead of my pain medication, to rest and ask for help during my four- to six-week recovery, to listen to my body’s cues, and to ease back into normal life gradually.I watched the cars and other vehicles passing by and wished that like my friends, I would also have been travelling or passing my time.While my mind was occupied with thoughts of holidays and having fun with my friends, the door bell rang.My parenting mindset had long surpassed the baby stage and the thought of backtracking to diapers exhausted me.On the other hand, I couldn’t help but think: I’m only 41.My periods were so frequent they were almost constant, and the minor intermittent pelvic and back discomfort had crossed into the category of constant nagging pain.After all, I already had two children and wasn’t planning on having more, and the fibroid was too large to simply remove by laparoscopy.However, she thought about it, consulted my father who was at his office and they both agreed to allow me to go to the United States to spend the rest of my holidays with my uncle.I jumped from room to room and started packing my clothes, my toys, my books and other articles that I would need on the flight and in America.Although I’d made the decision to have the surgery, I still experienced a kind of mourning for those parts of me that had been removed, a part of my womanhood that left me with a pervasive feeling of emptiness.And while I’d said my goodbyes to my uterus before the surgery, thanking it for its service and the beautiful children it gave me, I was hoping for a couple of days to get used to the idea of it being gone without having to talk about it.