Well, today was 4 weeks and one day. One lunar month since my uterus walked the long walk. Since it tripped the light fantastic. I bid it adieu and it is no more. I am now an altered bitch.
I wondered how much pain and recovery I would really experience after my hysterectomy and I'm pleased to say it has been an almost pleasant experience. Please don't take my experience as the norm though. I think I ended up, for whatever reason, on the top end of the spectrum for what one can expect from the aftermath of such a surgery.
Don't get me wrong. My nursing care was top notch, my doctor is no slouch, and I only had to stay in the hospital overnight. Also, I can't tell you how much it helped my morale that all my friends and family were and continue to be so supportive. All have contributed significantly to my successful and exceptional recovery.
My favorite milestone so far was the 14th of March. That was the first period I would have had after the surgery. I celebrated. I was gleeful. I was practically giddy. Some said I would mourn and should allow my self to mourn my lost organ. I didn't and I don't.
Not everyone goes into this the same way with the same reasons. For some, I can see that mourning is expected or even needed but my uterus has betrayed me at every turn. I am so happy to be free from it's clutches finally. There was nothing at all for me to mourn.
Of course now, when I behave like a hysterical woman, I put the lie to all those old theories about what made women hysterical in the first place.