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A conversation with my uterus

After 35 years of pain and suffering, Kerri Sackville has a few choice words for her womb.
A conversation with my uterus

After 35 years of pain and suffering, Kerri Sackville has a few choice words for her womb.

Me: Hello?

Uterus: Yeah. Hi.

Me: What on earth are you doing?

Uterus: You haven’t figured it out yet? Seriously? I’ve been doing this once a month for over 30 years and you still don’t get it?

Me: Yeah, but you didn’t warn me this time. I mean, seriously? I’m in the middle of a park! With no supplies! Couldn’t you at least have held off till I got home?

Uterus: Er, excuse me. I did warn you. You’ve been depressed and cranky for three days.

Me: Oh yeah. Shit.

Uterus: How could you have not noticed that? What did you think was going on?

Me: I don’t know. I thought I hated my job, my kids were awful, and I had no friends.

Uterus: But four days ago everything was fine! Could you not see it was just in your mind?

Me: Well, things change. It seemed perfectly plausible. Anyway, it’s not my fault. It’s you. You need a better warning system.

Uterus: What, like a bell?

Me: No, not a bell, for god’s sake.

Uterus: A pain? I can do that, you know.

Me: Yes, I’m very aware you can do that. No. Something innocuous. Maybe a scent? The taste of strawberries? A minor visual disturbance?

Uterus: Scent? Visual disturbance? You don’t have a very good grasp of biology, do you?

Me: Oh shut up.

Uterus: Wow. You’re a bit sensitive today.

Me: Yes, I am. I’ve just started gushing blood in the middle of a park with no warning.

Uterus: I did warn –

Me: OKAY.

Uterus: Anyway, look on the bright side. You’re functioning properly. You are woman! With a capital W! You are Woman! Hooray!

Me: Yes, awesome, thank you. But I’d still be a woman without you, you know.

Uterus: Okay, that’s just nasty.

Me: It’s true. And really, I’ve had my kids. I don’t need you anymore. I’m perfectly content for you to stop functioning anytime. Now would be fine.

Uterus: Right, well, now you’re just being hurtful.

Me: Good. I owe you about 35 years of pain. Suck it up.

Uterus: That’s so mean! I don’t even know who you are anymore!

Me: I’m sick of you! That’s who I am!

Uterus: Okay, that doesn’t even make grammatical sense.

Me: Shut up! I’m sick of you bleeding! I’m sick of you contracting! I’m sick of you sending stupid hormones to make me cranky!

Uterus: Er… that’s the ovaries …

Me: YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!

Uterus: You know, you’re a very ungrateful person. I gave you children. I gave you life. You should give thanks to me every single day for the magnificent gifts that I have bestowed on you. Not berate me for the slight inconvenience of a bit of blood.

Me: Okay. I guess so. I’m sorry.

Uterus: Good.

Me: But really … why does it have to be so … messy? And inconvenient? And painful?

Uterus: I can’t believe you’re still complaining. Menstruation is a beautiful process. It is spiritual.

Me: Spiritual how?

Uterus: Because, Sister, it is the Divine Goddess flowing through your Sacred Chakra and out your Yoni, sanctifying your Anima and connecting you to the Heart of the Universe.

Me: Really?

Uterus: Nah! Just kidding. It was that or lay eggs, and that seemed even worse.

Me: I hate you.

Uterus: No you don’t. You’re just cranky cause you forgot to pack tampons.

Me: Whatever. Go away.

Uterus: No can do. But I will try to warn you more next time. Would breast tenderness help?

Me: GO AWAY.

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