I was just 14 when I first received the message. My mom had spent years preparing me for this moment, explaining the reasons and the ins and outs—BUT WHY THOUGH? She assured me there was no need to fear and promised to guide me on how to handle it. Still, when that message popped up, I couldn’t help but scream in a bowling alley bathroom stall.
Uterus: Hey, what’s up?
Me: Who’s this?
My mom got teary-eyed when I told her. She gently wiped a tear from my cheek and enveloped me in a comforting hug. I felt more awkward in my own skin than I ever had before.
As the months rolled by, I gradually came to terms with my uterus’s constant messages, yet the awkwardness remained. I had inherited a uterus that could rival Niagara Falls with its monthly cycles, and it never liked to adhere to a schedule.
Uterus: Wasssssupppp?!
Me: You again? Already?!
Just when I thought I had her figured out, she would throw me a curveball.
Uterus: 3…
Me: Huh?
Uterus: 2…
Me: Wait!
Uterus: 1…
Uterus: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
Me: Not quite the surprise I was hoping for.
And of course, she rarely took the blame.
Uterus: Whoops, my bad.
Me: Really? In the library… on cloth seats? Seriously?!
Uterus: It’s been 4 hours since our last bathroom break; are YOU kidding ME?!
But like any relationship, we eventually found that sweet spot of comfort, where the sassiness flowed freely—akin to a pair of best friends who know each other inside and out.
Me: Did you ever get the Advil I sent you? It should have been here ages ago.
Uterus: Yeah, I saw it, but I’m not feeling it. Let’s go for some Aleve and watch Titanic.
Uterus: What’s on the agenda for tonight?
Me: Going out for dinner with friends.
Uterus: OMG, we NEED dessert!
Me: No way, I’m trying to be good.
Uterus: Right, so two desserts plus 90% of the chips and salsa, got it.
Then one day, as I curled up on the couch, binge-watching A Baby Story on TLC, I had a sudden revelation about my uterus (totally normal, right?). I remembered that first message in the bathroom stall and all the poorly timed ones that followed. I recalled the lost underwear, the frantic “I need a bathroom now” moments, the cramps, and the fatigue—all those Midol commercials listing out the symptoms like I didn’t already know them. And I thought of all the conversations I had, wishing for days when I could pat my pockets and find nothing but dry jeans.
For 14 years, my uterus had been like a quiet observer, slumbering through my childhood, only to make a grand entrance during my teenage years like a dramatic drum major of puberty. At times, I resented her for it.
However, as I watched new mothers sob into the bellies of their slimy newborns, it struck me—my uterus, though occasionally moody, had the potential to be pretty badass. So, I raised my glass of green tea and a square of Hershey’s dark chocolate, toasting to the day my uterus would send me her most incredible message ever.
Uterus: Baby on board.
This article was originally published on April 13, 2016.
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Summary
This playful narrative follows Jamie’s humorous and insightful journey with her uterus, starting from her first message at 14 through the ups and downs of adolescence and into a newfound appreciation for her reproductive powerhouse. It highlights the unique relationship one can have with their body and the quirky exchanges that come with it.