I was just 14 when the first message came through. My mom had prepared me for years, explaining the intricacies of the process and the inevitable… BUT REALLY, WHY? She assured me it was nothing to fear and promised she would help me figure out how to respond. However, that didn’t prevent me from shrieking in a bowling alley restroom when I received the text.
Uterus: Hey, what’s up?
Me: Who is this?
My mom teared up when I told her about it. She gently brushed my cheek with her hand and pulled me into a warm embrace. I simply shrugged, feeling more awkward in my own skin than ever before.
As the months rolled on and I grew accustomed to her messages becoming a regular occurrence, the discomfort didn’t fade. I had inherited a uterus that flowed like Niagara Falls during that time of the month, and predictability was never her style.
Uterus: Wasssssupppp?!
Me: You’re back already?!
Just when I thought I had her figured out, she’d throw me a curveball.
Uterus: 3…
Me: Huh?
Uterus: 2…
Me: Wait!
Uterus: 1…
Uterus: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
Me: This isn’t the surprise party I was dreaming of.
And she was never one to own up to her antics.
Uterus: Oops, my bad.
Me: In the library… on fabric seats… are you kidding me?!
Uterus: Four hours since our last bathroom break, are YOU serious?!
But like all relationships, we eventually found a comfort level that allowed for more open and sassy communication. A type of banter reserved for those who know each other intimately—beyond just the physical.
Me: Did you ever get the Advil I sent you? It should have arrived ages ago.
Uterus: Yeah, I noticed it, but I’m not really feeling it. Let’s just grab some Aleve and binge-watch Titanic.
Text Uterus 6
Me: What’s going on with you today?
Uterus: I just need some breathing room. These tight pants are a no-go.
Me: But they look cute…
Uterus: Swap them for sweats or I’m busting a button!
Text Uterus 7
Uterus: Any plans for tonight?
Me: Off to dinner with friends.
Uterus: OMG, WE HAVE TO GET DESSERT!
Me: No way, I’m trying to be good.
Uterus: Right, so we’ll have two desserts plus 90% of the chips and salsa.
One day, as I curled up on the couch, binge-watching far too many episodes of A Baby Story on TLC, I experienced a uterus epiphany (a perfectly normal occurrence). I reflected on that first message in the restroom and all the poorly timed alerts that followed. I recalled lost underwear, the panic of needing to find a bathroom ASAP, the cramps, the fatigue, and every symptom that Midol commercials describe amid rounds of Wheel of Fortune (as if anyone needs reminding). I remembered the countless conversations, wishing for days when I could touch my pockets and find them dry.
For 14 years, my uterus had been a silent partner, quietly coasting through my childhood until she resurfaced during adolescence like a fiery drum major of puberty, and I resented her for it.
But as I watched new moms tearfully hold their slippery little bundles, I realized that while my uterus could be temperamental, she was also capable of being pretty darn awesome. So, I raised my glass of green tea and a piece of Hershey’s dark chocolate, toasting to the day when she would send me her most beautiful message yet.
Uterus: Baby on board.
This piece was first published on April 13, 2016. If you’re interested in more insights, check out this post about home insemination kits. For those seeking information on fertility, this resource is invaluable. And for creative ideas, don’t miss out on this enchanting DIY garland.
Summary
The journey of navigating the relationship with one’s uterus can be filled with surprises and challenges. From the initial shock of receiving that first message to the realization of its power and potential for creating life, the experience is both humorous and profound. Embracing the ups and downs leads to a newfound appreciation for the amazing capabilities of one’s body.