I was, to everyone’s total shock, subsequently diagnosed with endometrial cancer.
And then, the other shoe dropped: the cancer came back.
That’s when we all knew I had to get a hysterectomy.
I wanted to be allwarriorabout this.
But I wasn’t, and there was no hiding it.
Well, I say eff that.
If there’s one thing that all of this has taught me, it’s that jealousy is normal.
That’s not ugly or inappropriate.
I’m happy for them, but sad for me.
If I stay mired in my sadness for too long, I start getting depressed.
If I simmer in jealousy for too long, it turns into resentment.
I looked around only to realize that I was theonly woman in that entire crowdwho wasn’t pregnant.
The despair and envy I felt as I realized this were overwhelming.
I mean,seriously?
Was this a joke?
I could choose to work towards someday being okay and feeling like myself again.
I want option A.'"
So let’s just kick the s**t out of option B."
I desperately wanted things to turn out differently, but this is my reality.
But this is where the interesting part begins.
Because now you have choice.
What kind of a person are you going to be, from here on out?
What’s the rest of your life going to look like?
If you decide to become a bitter person, who could blame you?
Chances are, you have a list of offenses as long as your arm to justify that choice.
Or, it’s possible for you to become something else.
You have a choice.
you’re free to grieve your loss.
All of those are normal, and if managed appropriately, they are healthy.
And so, I’ve made it my mission not to be bitter.
I wanted, desperately, to understand why this was happening.
But the fact is, I have no idea.
Heck, there might not even be a reason.
