And, several months later I wrote this.

This weeks marks the one year anniversary of my hysterectomy. It seems when I talk about serious and personal things on this blog I get a bunch of calls from family asking if I’m okay or what was up with the serious vibe. Let me reassure you, family, that I am fine. This blog, this space is where I feel most comfortable talking about the sappy crap and the personal stuff. And, one year later I’m still very raw.

I think about the fact that I had a hysterectomy everyday. I think about the changes I have seen in myself both physically and emotionally since going through with it. Some aspects have greatly improved, but some have sadly diminished. I feel different. No better, no worse – just different. I’m still me – just with one less part.

And, frankly, sometimes it sucks.

I think it’s the finality of the whole thing – the fact that a specific part of my body and my life is over. I think about having more babies every single day. I thinking about what would have happened had I not gone through with it. Do I regret it? Not necessarily, but I do still mourn the loss and find myself wondering if there was ever supposed to be another child in our family. I think about this every day.

So, here I am one year later quietly remembering a day that doesn’t mean much to anyone but me. A friend suggested I mark the occasion with brownies, a candle, and a wish. My first choice would be to spend the evening with my husband, the only person in the world that can make me feel alive, sexy, and like a total girl just with his sly smile.

But, since he was called out of town on business I may take her suggestion. After all – it does involve chocolate…