as the second part of my ongoing aggressive proactive attack on the cancer that attacked me, I got my ovaries and fallopian tubes removed. First of all, it has been like my fourth surgery and it really does not bother me other than it takes a lot of time and I have to repeat my birthday and name like 487 times which is a giant test of strength. It went well, I got full color photos of all of my inner organs which were all pretty in pink, and I returned home that day with nothing more than 3 bandages on 3 spots on my abdomen. Holy shit, technology is really something. I mean if I would've went through this like even 5 years ago I think I would have been opened up all "Game of Thrones" style from belly to bottom. I had some cramping and bloating and I went home with a new prescription of Percocet.
It was kind of weird though, I never really seriously considered having kids of my own. I mean I did but I didn't. I thought I would make a superb mother but I have yet to find that sperm donor that I could jive with. I spend a lot of time with kids and I have a thing with them. I cannot explain it but if you saw it in action you would be impressed. It does not happen immediatley with all kids and some, it takes a while but then it happens and they are under my spell.
After having this surgery, besides the fact that I am 41 and have no possible prospects of love even on the far reaches of the horizon, I was sad. It is so definite. I don't like absolutes, I like wiggle room and grey areas. This was harder than I thought it was going to be. I am the crazy aunt, the funny friend, and the awesome teacher. Was I honestly ever considering pushing an actual baby out of my vagina? I don't know and I guess I will never know. At this point it is just the afterthought of not having a choice and wondering about it.
It is interesting though as now that I am tits deep in menopause (I don't feel any different), I am acutely aware of my friends with kids, their interactions, relationships, and what they have with their kids. I think of the relationship I had with my dad, and the one I have with my mom. I talk to my girlfriends on the phone about their kids. It is amazing how insightful I can be about kids, motherhood, and all this shit that really, things I dare not have an opionion on. Afterall, I only have a dog. I consider her my kid, but I would never say that to my parent friends.
I think when moms in reality see shit like that they over compensate and think that anything even close to junk food will ruin their kids. They get bombarded by what is absoulty WRONG and HORRIBLE to do to your kids, they hear that any sort of discipline is mean and will wreck their kids. I mean it goes on and on. I talk to these lovely, smart, sensible, kind, generous, nurturing, and wonderful women telling me how hard it is. How thankless and exhausting, and how after all of it, they still wonder if they are doing a good job.
Jesus effinfg christ. I wonder if any of them have watched that documentary about babies where the mom in Mongolia would leave the baby teathered in the house while she went out and got the chores done. The baby lived, and thrived, I think they left the dog in charge. I understand that in our world people would go to jail for that sort of thing but the bottom line is is that kids are hard to ruin, they really just need a good daily dose of love and all the rest is survival. Is everything they eat organic? How about some of it. Is everthing they put in their mouth sanitized, c'mon! Is every emotion shown in their presence in control and laid out according to Dr. Sprock?
Ladies, breathe. Then cut yourselves some fucking slack. Take it from a gal that missed that boat, you are doing an amazing job, you are strong and resilliant and impressive and amzing to watch. Give them cheese balls every once in a while, get a babysitter and go get drunk and danceyer face off. Your standards are too damn high, your kids are going to be fine and if anything they should eat more dirt, fall down more and talk to a few strangers, chill out. If your kid is fed and sorta dressed and decently clean the rest is extra expectations of being a "perfect mom" and it will kill you. You know that if you did suck at it I would be the first to tell you, I got opionions for days.
Everything happens for a reason and I am a happy person, I do not regret any of my decisions, well a few but mostly involving too many shots after midnight. I am going to be that cool adult that yer kids love and that is going to be enough.