Continuing the fine tradition of writing letters to body parts (see here and here), today I have a letter for my uterus.
Dear Uterus,
Hmm, will all of my letters start this way? Okay, once more.
Dear Uterus,
Okay, I get it. For many years I didn't pay attention. I thought you and me were just chillin. Sure, you had to cramp all up like a MF'er every month but thank heavens for modern medicine because bc calmed that down significantly. But over the years your tiny little sweet girly voice has slowly turned into a loud and, dare I say, obnoxious roar. Now I don't think it would be an understatement to say that you are damn near yelling at me for not giving you what you want. And yeah, I know what you want. A baby.
Never mind the fact that I don't actually like babies. Never mind that I am always the one holding a poopy smelling baby at arm's length running around in a panic like "what do I do with this?" And never mind the fact that any child left with me for more than a couple of hours only has a 50% chance of survival. It's not that I'm trying to kill them, it's that kids are stupid and will kill themselves if you don't watch out. Really, I think babies would just walk straight off a cliff if you didn't watch them. And I won't watch them. I'll forget about them for a second. And then it'll be all "hmm, oh shoot!, was I not supposed to leave Jr. in the bathtub with the hot water running?", or "dang, did I leave all the plastic bags from the grocery store on the floor where little Nene was crawling?" or "maybe I shouldn't have painted all the electrical sockets with clown faces" (okay, that last was a joke. But really, People, you do not want me watching your babies.)
But no, you don't care about any of this. You have no foresight at all. You don't care that, should I have a child, I'd inevitably be forced to listen to the same joke (and trust, it will not be a funny joke because it will be a simple-minded thing from a kindergartener) 20 times because kids think the same joke is unendingly funny. What, you don't remember this exchange:
Kid: And then he did it like this!!! hahahahaha
Me: Wow, that's funny.
Kid: And then he did it like this!!! hahahahaha
Me: Yeah, I know, it was kinda funny.
Kid: And then he did it like this!!! hahahahaha
Me: Um . . .
Nope, none of this is important to you. You just want a baby on you, and you have no qualms about letting me know. I see cute little knit baby things, and you yell "Make baby now!" and I'm like "I don't have a husband" and you yell "go make baby now!" and I remind you that I don't even have a boyfriend and you yell even louder "me want baby, baby in me now, make baby, baby!" (um, did I tell you all my uterus sounds like a caveman?)
Really, it's starting to get embarrassing. I'm afraid others can hear you, since you are doing it out in public now. I used to not really notice most men. Seriously, unless he was damn fine I didn't even pay attention. Now whenever a halfway decent looking one walks by, you growl at them! Got me out here faking like I didn't hear it, looking nonchalantly up in the sky when they turn around wondering what nearby animal was growling at them. I still remember the first time it happened, shocked me to death. There I was, walking down the street all innocent like, and a well-groomed fairly good-looking guy passed by and you yelled "sex!" Hmm, don't mince words, do you? Now your goals are more clear, and you sometimes bypass me altogether and yell commands directly at them: "You can make baby, yes?! You make baby in me now!"
So look, I'm just saying I understand where you're coming from. Next birthday marks three decades here and you're getting tired of waiting. I know you got all these hormones and what not, and societal pressures, and worries about the expiration date on the eggs (yeah, don't act like you and the ovaries aren't in this together; I know). But you're going to have to give me just a bit more time and maybe one day . . .
Until next time,
The Body You're In
10 comments:
I so remember this phase of my life with my uterus. And it'd already had two. Did I look like I wanted another one?? Did we need another one? No. I love my kids, but I am just not a fan of children, and having managed to get two grown without any death or dismemberment, well, I was glad for the break.
I won the war. In about 4 years it'll settle down to a quiet roar. Then it starts totally new games around 40-45, where you're trying to preserve it's life and it's trying to get evicted. Awesome.
Unfortunately, my uterus won. I was exactly the same age you are now. Be strong, girl, you can fight it. Avoid sex all together if at all possible, at least until you can get your head right. Dam this curse!
I ran across your blog from a knitting web page & I have to say - this is hilarious! I dont have children of my own so it struck a funnier cord with me than maybe "moms" - you made me smile!
You have at least 10 good years left, girl. I'm 33 and my niece says that the batteries in my biological clock have run down. sigh. I like that the uterus sounds like a caveman, a hispanic caveman at that. wow. Hey I got a photoalbum, check the photoalbum forum on nappturality. braincoral. its just a beginning!
This is funny. My uterus hasn't started talking to me yet. I wonder what it will sound like.
Ohh, you are funny...and knit extremely well! One of my friends is a knitter and she taught me the basics last Spring, pretty fun =)
i love your letters to your body parts ... this one is fantastic ;)
I just read this aloud to my husband, and he had a tiny fit of joy with me.
I'm so glad I finally found your blog again. I stumbled upon it ages ago and forgot to bookmark!! Next month marks my 30 years on this planet and this post is ringing loud and clear!! ALL OF IT!!
I LOVE this! I'm only 20 but my uterus is starting to do evil things and trying to make me into a true pear shape. It did NOT like this letter by the way. ^_^
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