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So lately I’ve been thinking a lot about my uterus.
For most of my life I have taken my uterus for granted and haven’t thought about it much at all. During my two pregnancies I thought about it A LOT, of course, but once my babies joined us on this side of my cervix, I kind of forgot about it again.
But now I feel bad, like I haven’t appreciated it enough. It grew two healthy babies and helped usher them into this world just as it should. (And one of those babies was 9 pounds, 10 ounces and almost two weeks late—that’s above and beyond the call of duty, uterus-wise.) If uterus-having were an Olympic sport, I’d at least qualify for the finals, I think. (No medal, though—those would go to the Super Uteruses, like the ones in surrogate mothers and Michelle Duggar.)
So why am I now suddenly all, “How great is my uterus?”
See, I had a birthday recently. The First Annual Celebration of My 39th Birthday, to be precise. And as the big 4-0 looms ever larger, I can’t help but wonder if my uterus’s time is up.
If it’s not just a dead womb walking.
Read more here: http://www.crazedinthekitchen.com/2012/08/dead-womb-walking.html