16 March 2015

unexpected tenderness

Ok-- so-- first, the hair loss. Ratios of my thyroid levels indicate something wacky between the whole Make T3! call to action by the TSH and the T3 levels themselves.  So, selenium as a facilitator and we shall see. I am not optimistic my hair will grow back, but that's what hats are for.

In the meantime, so much else has happened that it is hard to even get riled up about it.

I had my first mammogram call back, after my first mammogram in 4 years. I had a lump last year, followed by an ultrasound, followed by an all clear and the lump vanishing. But I had never had a call back on a mammogram before.

I'll start this by saying, I'm ok. The reading was ok- and I go back in 6 months. But here is what I wrote while I waited:
I'm in the waiting room at radiology. Waiting waiting for a call-back mammogram. I am thinking if all of the waiting rooms. All of the waiting. The fluorescent lights. The linoleum floor. The cold air and scratchy cotton. I am thinking about turning points, decision points, change of plan points. I am thinking about love and connection and feel an unexpectedly tender love for my body.

Now, I have not felt much tenderness toward my body, ever.
It has caused me untold grief with colitis, acne, the whitest skin on the planet, bruises, bulges, infertility, the birth saga with uncooperative cervix then c section... anxiety, hair loss, blah blah blah blah blah....
it has always been it. not me. it.
a separate container for my Self to ambulate in, to use the sensors with great gratitude, but also a separateness, often hostile, or annoying, or shameful.

Suddenly, in the harsh light of that waiting room, I cradled myself in my arms, truly whole maybe for the first time ever. A surprise integration. Suffused with love. And I have a feeling of wholeness that is different now. I'm getting to know it. But the love and tenderness and gratitude are profound.


And, in other breast related news, we weaned. Not in any way I would have wanted. In fact, I don't think I can even talk about it.
I bought a beautiful bra to celebrate the parts of this worth celebrating (there are plenty, I know).
I don't want anyone to say "About Damned Time!"-- just don't.
You can't say anything I have not already thought or heard or worried about.
Here we are, finally, totally not baby led, or toddler led, or pre-schooler-led. Good lord, left to her, we'd nurse until the cows come home, and since we have no cows, that is a long, long time.

Now we're moving on to addressing the sleep deprivation in all of us, and trying not to make things worse by trying to make them better. Not succeeding yet. Della, in fact, is asleep right this very moment having huffed off into the other room when my beloved mom touched some toy she wasn't supposed to. So Della stormed off, lay down, and conked out.  11am.
Life, love, the pursuit of sleep.
We are in the midst of it.

1 comment:

Elizabeth said...

Hey you - I'm so glad to read that you're safe and healthy and taking care of yourself.

At the risk of offering something that turns out to be unwelcome ass-vice, from my own struggles to figure out and lay down boundaries, I have at times with L fallen back on some version of: you know, one of the jobs of the mommy is to really know when you are ready to do certain things; the mommy really knows and can tell when you are ready even if you don't know it yourself. A job of the mommy is to show you when you are ready and the mommy is not wrong about these things.

This line of thought (plus liberal application of new stuffed animals as prizes) finally, at 7 years old, got L sleeping in his own bed all night.

Change is so hard and so scary. I've also spent a lot of time reassuring and pointing to confidence. Even though we're not doing this, we still can do that, and I always love you, and you will make it through this change. Remember when you thought you would never do x and now you do it all the time, no problem? This will be the same one day soon.

It's funny these online spaces, I sometimes miss writing, or the documenting, but mostly I miss the chance to be connected! Sending much love from the warm, sunny, early-spring-manifesting, pacific NW.

xo
Eliz.