Sleep is Elusive, but a Hysterectomy is Not
My dear friends it has been awhile, but once again I sit here far earlier in the morning than I had intended to wake with my brain already a mile ahead and sleep eluding me… and this morning my brain is buzzing with the need to write.
So. Here I am.
I’ll admit I’ve missed logging in and sharing my life with you, but I’ve had a creative block for months now. Life has been too much to put into words or pretty pictures, and while in the past writing has soothed me, lately it has scared me. It’s been too hard to give validation to the things in my head by typing them here into permanent existence.
I love my chaotic life filled with neurodivergent children… and I also feel crushed by it. As my therapist so often likes to remind me: two things can be true at the same time. But you can know something on a logical level while the lived reality is much more visceral… anyone with neurodivergent children can attest to this.
Every morning I wake up wondering which version of me is going to be needed that day. Rigid boundary mama? Fighting for my kids mama, or will I need to be the mama who responds to the hurt that’s going on inside? The latter is the easiest… I know that hurt in a way that I wish I did not. But so many days I have to fight my need to excuse all for the hurt.
What I’m trying to say is that we’re in a two step back phase of life, and like my sleep that one step forward feels elusive.
And this fight has had its effect on me. My chronic illness is flaring and the struggle of being strong while being so weak is something I never imagined for myself. I still remember the version of myself that ran half marathons and hiked mountains, but I haven’t seen her in awhile now. I can hear my therapist in my head right now: two things at once Karin… And it’s true because while I do miss the energy, I am thankful for answers. And after almost 6 years of second opinions, blood tests, and expert opinions I have finally been diagnosed with Endometriosis and Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. The relief of validation, of knowing that all of the pain and endless fatigue aren’t just in my imagination is something I could never put into words.
But I do know that for the first time in a long while I feel hopeful. I know I’ll never be that version of myself who woke up each day with boundless energy and a need to push myself to the absolute limit, but I know there are steps that I can take to become a new version of myself… or maybe I should simply say that there is relief to be had.
In almost exactly a month I will be having a hysterectomy, and while I know I should feel some grief over the loss I feel nothing but relief. I am so privileged to have endometriosis and yet have four beautiful children. And I know that for many women the loss of something so precious is an absolute sorrow… I hold space for you now in this moment. But I have been bleeding endlessly for years now and I am so relieved to see an end to something I never thought could be so debilitating. I’m thankful for what my uterus has done, but I’m ready to move forward without it.
I remember being in my early twenties and being scared of what life had in store for me… and now that I’ve lived some of it, I’m actually thankful for all that life’s brought me so far. I know it could be so much worse and I’m thankful that I get to be the mom that my kids need… even if their needs feel unpredictable at times and my brain craves predictability. And I’m thankful for the solidness that chronic illness has brought to my life because I have a deeper understanding of myself and the world around me that I never would have had otherwise.
The thing with ADHD is that we never really want to feel anything hard, but in more ways than one that bandaid was ripped off years ago. And I guess what I’m saying is I’m glad it was. Because even though it’s not fun to be in the moment of hardness and to allow myself to feel the weight of those emotions… I’m just glad that life has brought me to a place where I can feel those feelings and know with absolute certainty that I’ll be okay.
Until next time,
Karin
P.S. my red skirt was gifted from Sezane
