Did They Just Take My Uterus?

Why does it sound weird to say uterus? I don't know, but I think when my surgeon removed it, he removed some other things too. One of them (besides Christmas spirit as I jokingly told my daughter), was guilt. Is it possible to live a full life without it?  I have been thinking about this emotion and I really can't think of a use for it. It absolutely has no impact on reality; it only makes you feel bad.  "I feel guilty because my friends are being so nice to me." or "I feel guilty because I am feeling really good right now and you are not." Or "I feel guilty because I am taking all the time I need to rest and recover." In all of those cases, I am not guilty.

The opposite of guilt, by my definition, is freedom. Imagine replacing the word guilt with free. I feel free because I am taking all the time I need to rest and recover.  I feel free when I choose not to speak to you right now. The situations have not changed, just the perception of them. Freedom is sustainable. It allows you to live your life, not the life you think others would have you live.

Case in point: I can sense that my husband John, who has been and continues to be, an enormous help to me during this recovery, is about done. He cooks (a little), cleans (a little more), takes the kids places, does errands (all the time), and continues to do his own important job as well as laundry. But he is ready to move on. Its been two weeks and I can tell he is over me. He is over it. He has checked out. I don't blame him because I know him. I know he is capable of so much love, attention, and devotion for about 10 days, and I  could feel my time ticking away.... Now I know he will stay married to me, just not be my butler anymore. He won't plump my pillows or bring me water either.

The difference for me this time is I feel free to lavish myself with comfort and rest even in the face of the rest of the world trying to pull me back because I am guilt-free.  I am not concerned with feelings of what I should be doing.  I am in my pajamas right now (I won't tell you what time it is, you will be jealous), but it is good.

Could this new found emotion be due to my severed relationship with my womanly hormone producing organs? That may be a stretch (which I am not supposed to do right now).  However, I have been supplementing my progesterone with bioidentical hormones since 2009. I went to see the Hotze Health and Wellness Center in Houston, Texas, desperate for help with my symptoms of PMS and lethargy (part of my ongoing search for balance).  I received top notch service and a full physical workup where they diagnosed me with estrogen dominance and hypothyroidism.  So long story short, I started using the bioidentical hormones prescribed by Hotze and felt somewhat better. The goal was to avoid hysterectomy but in my case I got to the point where I could ignore the symptoms of endomitriosis no longer and had the hysterectomy.

Fast forward to now. I am taking progesterone and testosterone and I just started estrogen last night!!! It is a cream that I rub into an area of skin in a secret place (inner arm or inner thigh - what were you thinking??) It is bioidentical to the estrogen I produce(d) in my own body. It should stop my hot flashes and I like to think maintain my lusciousness forever more.

I think I finally may be on to something, at least in my hormonal search for balance.  So far so good.  Looking forward to longer days, exercise, strength building, replenished energy, but for now I am lazing around watching laundry pile up without a care in the world. Yay me

Look at that man, not a care in the world. Now he is food shopping and pretreating stains....

Chapter 2

Is that bold at age 47 to start Chapter 2? Will I live to 94 1/2?  (doubled my age in case you couldn't figure out my genius at arriving at that number) It doesn't matter does it? Chapters don't have to be an equal number of pages, just the separation of the story into a natural structure. Maybe its really, Part 1 versus Part 11 or Book 1 and Book 2, but either way the story is introduced, we meet the characters, we get sucked into the story in Book 1, and then Book 2 we are completely vested in the events of the characters' lives (this is a good book). All the interesting things happen in Book 2. in Book 1 we see what formed the main  character and Book 2 we see the results.

With that said, I had my hysterectomy.  Am I being too dramatic? I waited till the second paragraph to mention it. It feels dramatic. It is.  I no longer am faced with the aches and pains of endomitriosis, I no longer am faced with inconsistent menstrual cycles, No more PMS (no M!) I can have some control over my hormones. At least I can try to stay in balance on my own without fighting the surges in my own body. Physically and emotionally I plan on feeling much better.

I am still in recovery mode so I don't feel like Superwoman or anything, but  I am surprised to note that my moods haven't changed drastically. I expected to be crying into my pillow or throwing my pillow at my husband, but neither one has happened. I still feel like me. a mellow me, a grateful me.

So more details to follow in this long journey. I plan on filling in some details of Part 1 of my life as I move forward in this blog, but for now I am anticipating Chapter 2. Here are some words I have rarely used that I plan on including in my life: adventure, freedom, boldness. Chapter 2 is the exciting part.

New Year

25 Things I plan to do this year - free flow thinking this is....not feel full after I eat, lift weights, facials every month, massages too, cook more in my crock pot, eat one salad a day, eat healthy proteins, do Pilates regularly,  be more independent, write more, start meditation, redo my closets, start a website, shop less,  put things away, clean my kitchen before bed, stay on a budget, bake more healthy treats, go to Mexico, see some live music, go to the Jersey Shore and relax on the beach, grow a kickass garden, swim in my pool this summer, ride my bike more. See my mom.

Happy New Year!!!

The Power of Doing Nothing

Doing nothing can be one of the hardest things to accomplish. Imagine having your hands tied as your son wants to quit a team,  or your daughter is having trouble with a friend. A few weeks back my father relayed my sister's feelings about a particular discussion she had had with me.  These feelings were not what she had aired to me. I sensed my sister's hesitation when I announced a scheme I had for getting my family together, but when my dad mentioned she was not happy and not on board with my idea I thought, "why didn't she tell me?" and then I thought,  "I must rectify this immediately!!",  my first instinct to run and make it all better.  But then something happened,...... I     paused..... Something I rarely do. Do  I really need to address this?  Is it possible that life could go on without me scurrying to work it all out?  I am just letting it sit for awhile and see what happens. Its very freeing.

My good friend, over lunch, was asking me for advice about how to handle an issue she felt she was having with a friend. She wondered if she could be honest or should she just let it go. We have all been there in our friendships wondering how to get over hurts or disagreements.  My need has always been to resolve things because I don't like messy; I have always felt uncomfortable if all my relationships were not in a positive place. Imagine trying to balance all my relationships and expecting none of them to ever change or be challenged.  I like organized,  but really its always been me wanting everyone to be happy with me.

What I am trying out is asking myself the question: Do I have to react to this situation as its happening? Obviously we must sometimes, like when a pie is coming at someones face, or a murderer is trying to get in, but there are situations that can work out for themselves. How about if my friend lets the friendship sit for awhile without worrying about its destination?  AND, how did I become so wise?

My new goal is the look at the relationships in my life individually and handle things as needed.  No more frantically running around worrying if everyone is happy. Oh my gosh it has been my story my whole life - same scenarios playing over and over.  I can resist the urge to make it all better. Sometimes a friendship or relationship can be forced into a place where it isn't comfortable anymore.  Sometimes the right thing to do is nothing.  Letting things go a little bit is a path less traveled for me and it almost feels decadent after a lifetime of thinking I had some control over everyone in my life.

With my children, my role really is as guide; loving, supportive guide. I can not force my child to stay with something if he or she chooses against it, I can not judge my child for his or her decisions because it is what I would have done, or even worse, a mistake I made. God forbid they make a mistake.  So I am working on nothing. Nothing works.

I like to think of myself as a laid back guy who sits around with pizza boxes all over his apartment. Just kidding.  I try to think of myself as a calm, assured, loving force who has faith that everything is going to be alright. (visualization)  I also notice that I can apply this new found principle every day in many ways.  My daughter was a little fresh to me the other day - and for once I am waiting for the right moment to talk to her.  I also have some brilliant advice for my son - also waiting till the right moment. Somehow we will all survive.

This is not what I mean by doing nothing!!!

Somewhere in between.... xo

After The Goethal's Bridge

I've been informed by my husband that the bridge in question (the one I had my first panic attack - see older blog "I'm Just Saying") was actually the Outer Bridge Crossing. I must have blocked it out.  After driving over the bridge I experienced a panic attack.  From there I began to feel panicky. It is a cycle that is difficult to break - feeling worried about potentially feeling anxiety causes more and more anxiety.  I am nothing if not a solution seeker and so I felt compelled to seek the help of a therapist. This therapist who I saw only twice, changed my life.

He did two, actually three, wonderful things for me:

1) He told me to try an anti-depressant.  This wise psychologist wasn't the first person to suggest an anti-depressant for my PMS. I had a prescription in my wallet, but he was the one who convinced me that it would help me. I finally reached the point where I believed it. We all know the stigma attached to it and I know many women would not consider it as an option, but for me I was ready to try.

2) He taught me to visualize and breathe deeply INTO the fear. Ahh what a relief. There is nothing to fear but fear itself (so I've heard) and that is how I approached it. As my heart beat too quickly I breathed in and out and visualized breathing in soft blue and breathing out yukky gray. I remembered the fears I had as a young girl and realized that as adults we are afraid of fear. I knew I would not die from anxiety - that it is a reaction your body produces. That was helpful to me.

3) He told me to say 'no' once in awhile. Mmmm, could it be connected in any way?- my desire to please everyone around me when inside I am screaming? He planted the seed on that one - still in progress.

I realized that my PMS was not completely hormone related. I had to accept that my life issues (at this crucial juncture I was moving to the West Coast) were exacerbated by my hormonal issues.  My inability to cope with the anxiety of my approaching move, trying to tie all my loose ends in life, reassuring close friends, calming the fears of my children, leaving my family, were finally bubbling up into a place that I could not contain. That is why I consider anxiety a gift. It lets you know in no uncertain terms that you are done. Take a look! Look whats going on here! You are stressed!!! There is no way around it.

That was a turning point for me. I was very fragile. Looking over a railing in the mall caused my heart to beat quickly. Driving, once a common practice, now was a battle between being hyper-aware that I was driving and breathing deeply. Not fun I tell you, but from there I started to pay a little more closer attention to my life.

The medicine put me into a better place. I played with dosages, took it different times during the month (with the help of a doctor!) and moved on with my life. I felt better able to cope. I didn't feel particularly different, just more like I thought a normal person should feel. That was my first step toward dealing with my monthly highs and lows. The story continues.
p.s. this is a picture of me and Meg around that time. Just liked it.

Balance - Aging

I was thinking the other day about all the ways I have not grown up. I want to see Footloose (the new, hot one). My last meal on earth would include oreos because every time I eat one I still think, "yum", I mean every time. I still eat them by licking off the cream and dunking them in milk. I have a huge crush on Keith Urban and share this crush with one of my 15 year old students;  (relatable or immature? hmmmm)   I know all words to Taylor Swift songs (saw her in concert) I like to make fun of people with my kids. I love barrettes. I love makeup.

Okay, maybe this just makes me a girl. I don't know. But as a grown up lady I know I have matured.  I feel like I take more time for everything; I drive slower, I look around more, I take pictures of trees as the leaves fall. Ironically, being older, I feel like I have more time. I am more cautious, I am more patient. I feel like I've been there before and I can predict an outcome, probably because I have. I guess they call that experience.  I couldn't be happier. Being my age - late 40's if you must know, is so much better than I ever would have thought. I literally do not care how I appear to others as I used to.  I still care very much about my appearance, just not my behavior.

I took a Latin Dance exercise class over the summer and as I focused on the beautiful, sexy, tiny teacher sensuously moving her body, I tried to match her. I truly felt like I was dancing in the same rhythmic Latin way that our young teacher was, until I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. HORRIFIED. Frankenstein with no hip motion (because we all know Frankenstein can move), but my moment of realization came when instead of cowering or leaving (someone did) I just chose to ignore Frank and chose young, pretty Latin girl. That is how I felt, and I was going to be her.  Who cares what I look like? I truly did not, although I had a smile on my face because I knew how I looked. So funny.

Have I become one of those crazy middle aged women who wears hats and dances with her girlfriends? Someone who wears her glasses around her neck or worse always loses them and holds the menu an arms length away? YES to all of it. It is true. Not all of it literally okay, but you get the idea.  As much as I enjoy my relaxed outlook on life, I still struggle with it. Of course there is a struggle, because with every shift, there is a counter shift in the balance. So I may not care as much about what others think, I may make more thought out decisions, maybe be even a little more rational, but every time a young person (you are getting the idea) compares me to his/her mom, I cringe. Every time an older woman uses the pronoun "we" when talking to me ("we can still wear that length) it startles me. I look in the mirror at that point, because inevitably I am in a dressing room when this happens, and I realize, "people know how old I am" I am not  28 or 34 or even 40. I am the older woman who can still wear that length or those jeans. Still trying. Painful.

Even when you say you feel young on the inside, that means you're old. You are. That's okay. I feel so much better on the inside and for that I feel lucky.  Youth is wasted on the young anyway.

That's Keith

that's heaven

Balance - Relationships

Relationships are hard. They require honesty, not only with the other person, but with oneself.  My struggle for balance is ongoing in my relationships as I strive to get to know myself. Case in point, my mother.  I could stop right there couldn't I? There, I said it, my mother.  The person who gave me life, taught me to love, fed me, clothed me and called me beautiful.  I know every daughter who is is lucky enough to grow up with a mom has a complicated history. I say lucky, not with a wink, because even though I have mommy issues, I had a mother, and I will always be grateful for that.

Okay, mommy issues. I am stalling aren't I? Well, its been some years since I have seen my mother in the flesh (11) and many months since I have spoken to my mother.  She is not an evil person, quite the opposite, but I have been at a stand still as to how to continue our relationship.

I have been the "good girl" my entire life; living with the satisfaction of knowing I am good, I did good. Check list of non-slutty behavior in college, there for my friends, obedient daughter, always a smile. What I noticed in my life was a pattern; I was the ever present friend, enthusiastic, helpful, compromising, encouraging, until one day I would lose my mind and have a blow out fight or some other dramatic occurrence, and then I would be DONE. By the time this happened, I was so relieved not to play my role of good friend, that I had no regrets. I would move on feeling free.  I would blame them. "look what they did to me, they didn't appreciate me, they took advantage of me." That may all have been true, but if it was, then it was completely my fault.

Point here: I allowed myself to be lost in these friendships; giving all I had and expecting what? reciprocation? No one could ever give me as much as I needed and they did not ask for it. It was pressure I put upon myself to by good for everyone until I couldn't do it anymore and that poor friend didn't know what hit them.   My older, more self knowing self is more aware of my propensity for this giving too much/wanting too much and so I am learning how to balance my relationships. How do I do this? (This may be the easiest thing for so many people, but for me still new),  I am honest.

I give because it makes me feel right, but temper it when it feels like too much. I put myself on my list of friends. I need a lot of attention, so I give it to myself.  I have really wonderful friends and thank God they love me, but they know that sometimes I am not "on" and they accept it. That's real and honest.

My biggest relationship is with my mother and I have not figured out how to be honest, so I have run away; not stalked away, not stomped away, but scurried away like a scared little rabbit. Mommys are harder. As a daughter I need to be loved, appreciated and understood, as a daughter I also need to be understanding, supportive and forgiving. ALL AT THE SAME TIME. That's kind of hard for me.  That's really hard for me. Still a good girl, but a wounded girl. In this unique relationship with my mom, I have given my heart and soul to be good, but I compromised myself.  I began to crumble under the weight of my need to be understanding, listening, helping a person who is never going to be full on her own.

So I sit in my rabbit hole enjoying my rabbit family and my little animal friends, but my mother and my future relationship with her waits in the big house (okay, this metaphor stuff in getting too much). What I am saying is my life is going on rather well, but missing completeness that I believe I will feel when I can be real. I feel it is close. I feel it is far away. I feel it is hard, but so simple.  Call.