This week I had surgery scheduled, hopefully to fix the female plumbing issues I've been having since Elle was born. The procedure itself was actually pretty painless, even after I regained consciousness. I was home the same day and by the day after was back to herding kidlets. Honestly, the hardest thing about the whole ordeal was the adjustment to the fact that it essentially rendered me sterile. Not by any stretch of the imagination do I ever want to wear pants with an elastic middle, have to step on a scale in full judgement of a nurse assistant the size of Gweneth Paltrow, or have to send Curt out for Preparation H while I hold a screaming newborn. But it's still strange to have that ability taken away, rather like man-o-pause in my early (ish) 30s.
And maybe I'm a big puss, but I did kind of feel like my head was a giant snow globe that had fallen into the clutches of Ellie. It's taking a little while for all of my thoughts and feelings about it to settle. I'm getting there, and since both Evan and Ellie will be in preschool this September, I'm starting to look forward to phase 2 of my life - the selfish years. I've started pulling up college catalogs and filling out FAFSA forms, and I'm getting pretty geeked up about having a conversation that doesn't revolve around Yo Gabba Gabba.
I didn't tell the kids what was going on, only just that I had to go in to the hospital, but I'd be home before they got back from school. As it turned out Brett beat us home that day and was a little concerned. He asked specifically what I'd been there for and when I told him I had minor surgery, he naturally wanted more details.
"It was on my girly bits, Brett."
"Oh man! I do not need to hear about this."
"Well, luckily I wasn't planning on giving you any more details."
"Good." He reached over to hug me, gingerly patting me as if I'd break. "And I'm sorry you had to have surgery on your, um whatever, I'm sure it didn't feel good."
"Thanks Brett, but I can't imagine a surgery that does feel good."
"Sure, I can. One on Emma's head."
And Evan, who seemed largely oblivious to all of it, crawled up into my lap this morning, hugged me, and then lifted his head up to look at me.
"Mom, is you feel better now?"
"Yes sweetie, mommy feels better now."
"Good. Can I have a cookie?"