It all started when I was 14. My mom had spent years prepping me for what was to come, filling me in on the ins and outs of it all. But honestly, I was still left thinking: WHY? She assured me there was no need to panic, promising to guide me through the experience. Yet, none of this stopped me from freaking out in a bowling alley restroom when the moment finally arrived.
Uterus: Yo, what’s up?
Me: Who’s this?
When I relayed the news to my mom, she burst into tears. She gently wiped my cheek with her hand and enveloped me in a hug. I shrugged, feeling more out of place in my own skin than ever.
As the months rolled on, I accepted that her messages were just going to be part of my life. Despite that acceptance, the awkwardness never seemed to fade. I’d inherited a uterus that could rival Niagara Falls with its monthly outpourings, and predictability was not in her playbook.
Uterus: What’s good?!
Me: You again? Seriously?!
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: Definitely not the surprise party I was hoping for.
Responsibility was not her strong suit either.
Uterus: Oops, my bad.
Me: Seriously? In the library… on cloth seats?!
Uterus: Four hours since our last bathroom break—are YOU kidding ME?!
But like any relationship, we eventually reached that comfortable level where we could really let loose. A kind of sass reserved for those who know each other intimately.
Me: Did you get the Advil I sent? That should have arrived like four hours ago.
Uterus: Yeah, I saw it, but I’m not feeling it. Let’s find some Aleve and binge-watch Titanic.
Text Uterus 6
Me: What’s going on with you today?
Uterus: I just need some air. Ditch the tight pants today.
Me: But these are cute…
Uterus: Sweatpants or I’m popping another button.
Text Uterus 7
Uterus: What’s the plan for tonight?
Me: Going out to dinner with friends.
Uterus: OMG, DESSERT!
Me: No way, I’m trying to eat healthy.
Uterus: Sure, so that means two desserts and 90% of the chips and salsa.
Then, one day, as I curled up on the couch, binge-watching A Baby Story on TLC, I had a bit of a realization (you know, just your average epiphany). I reflected on that first message in the restroom and every poorly timed one since. I thought about all the ruined underwear and the frantic bathroom searches. I remembered the cramps and fatigue that Midol commercials love to highlight, as if they needed listing. And I recalled all those conversations, desperately praying to find dry pockets in my jeans.
For 14 years, my uterus had been silently lurking. It was like Rip Van Winkle throughout my childhood, only to arrive at puberty like a firework on the Fourth of July. I had resented her for it.
Yet, as I watched new moms crying over their slimy newborns, I came to realize that my uterus, despite its quirks, is pretty darn fierce. So, I raised my glass of green tea and a piece of dark chocolate, toasting to the day when I would receive the most amazing message of all.
Uterus: Baby on board.
This article was originally published on April 13, 2023. If you want to dive deeper into this topic, consider checking out this post on Cervical Insemination. And if you’re thinking about at-home insemination options, Make A Mom offers reliable syringe kits for your journey. For more information on fertility treatments, visit March of Dimes.
Summary:
In this light-hearted reflection, the author recounts the journey of navigating puberty and the unpredictable nature of her uterus. From the initial shock of menstruation to the realization of her uterus’s strength, she highlights the complexities of growing up and the humor that can be found in these experiences.
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