Today was a very difficult day, physically and emotionally. It was my first day back to work having to wear pregnancy pants, while not being pregnant. Of course because I'm completely self conscious about the bloat (aka Katie) I felt like everyone I encountered the entire day was staring at me, wondering, or worse yet, judging-- which alone is super exhausting.
It seems to me to be so unfair that while one of the most difficult to bear side effects of endometriosis is infertility that another side effect makes one look pregnant. It can easily become overwhelming when people ask how far along I am, simply offer congratulations, or even brazenly touch it/her. Sometimes I react in sarcasm, that honestly the person doesn't deserve, because they are truly wishing me well...but that sarcasm is a mask for the pain that accompanies the discussion that their comment has started. Goodness that is even difficult to admit in the safety and somewhat anonymous world of the blogosphere.
What makes me feel even worse but is somewhat related, is my reaction to pregnancy announcements, pictures, baby pictures... it strikes a chord of such a deep, dark level of sadness and loneliness that only as of late have I even admitted to myself of experiencing. That reaction, and the reasons for it, doesn't at all diminish the true joy I feel for my friends and even strangers who get to experience this amazing miracle in their lives. It just currently feels like my own wound.
Femininity (in our current culture) is nearly equated with, if not dependent upon, fertility. I feel like this has forced, or placed I suppose, me in this place where I must rediscover, redefine and relish in my femininity, my divine feminine. I'm not sure how I will accomplish this but I feel this completely uncomfortable place is where I'm being led, where I'm meant to be.
I feel like endometriosis isn't talked about nearly enough, or understood, or even accepted. The emotions I've shared in this entry in particular are incredibly shame-inducing and it is difficult to share them, but I feel called to write this. I hope maybe one person at least reads this and either feels less alone in their own feelings, or someone else finds a deeper understanding of what this disease does to women. I feel like this entry was kind of a downer but want to end on a positive note that my friend, a wonderful, true sister of a friend wrote to me, which of course left me looking around me to see who she could possibly be referring to:
You are brave.
You are resilient and you are conquering your shame.
Your body is healing, and you are a warrior for peace.
Signing off, yet again wrapped in a heating pad, covered in tons of cozy blankets, my lovely kitty cuddling, cramping to a whole new level, hoping for relief to find me at some point tonight.
Sending big loves to my endosisters, wishing you peace, comfort and relief.
Thanks for reading.
Namaste.
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