As of typing this entry out Roe v. Wade had been overturned. Many states have tightened their laws around reproductive health and anti-trans rhetoric has been going through the USA like wildfire. I would like to put a call to action here to SUPPORT YOUR NATIONAL AND LOCAL ORGANIZATIONS and if you’re able, GET INVOLVED.

Content Warning: there will be talk about body stuff, but especially about bodies that deal with menstruation. Mine, of course. More of the entry and, uh, details, is after the cut.

I got hit with the Puberty stick fairly early in my life. While the other kids in the 5th grade assembly gasped at the things our bodies insist on doing to us sooner or later, I nodded along and whispered a few things the VHS tape glossed over– like options besides tampons. 6th grade was more of the same, except it got into the more messy bits of S-E-X: How that stuff fits together in the heterosexual way. Abortions. Condoms. But most importantly (said in jest): abstinence. 10th grade Health class visited it all again with the bonus of a teacher that would answer any question to the best of his ability… or looked it up in the textbook. My parents had also answered any questions I had since I was young, and when that became too embarrassing I stumbled through Woman’s Body: An Owner’s Manual. I took that opportunity of that class to fill in the blanks and nap.

uh. I had a point. My point is– I knew my stuff, more or less.

And I knew very well that my period was never just a mild inconvenience. It was an ordeal: always heavy, unpredictable, and lasted well beyond an average “three days.” When I grew older the cramps and other debilitating side-effects cranked up to 11, and health issues became more prominent. Periods weren’t helping my anemia, for one thing.

I also knew from a young age that I never wanted children. When playing “House” I was always the bratty baby banging around in the kitchen. And… well, I just never got that wonder or urge to have a baby that wasn’t a kitten. My childfree stance only solidified in high school and it dawned on me that the world is kinda fucked, and I wouldn’t feel right bringing a kid into it. that still has not changed (if anything, its even stronger now). But should the urge ever strike me, I can always adopt. The children here now that need our support, too.

Another angle: I fully realized I am transgender a few years back. While social dysphoria can hit pretty often, the physical dysphoria hit like a truck when it did. And that included “Unwanted Biology,” as another trans friend put it. It’s just another modification of the body I inhabit so I can feel more comfortable moving in the world. I’m not using this uterus, I don’t ever plan to, and if uterus transplants were a thing I’d give it to someone– trans or cis– who would appreciate it more than I ever did.

To recap, the for main reasons for getting rid of this thing, in no particular order:

• a nuisance
• creating additional health issues
• no need for it
• transgender

Like that weird clown statue on your bookshelf that you can’t seem to get rid of. But I finally am. What took me so long?

Means and Timing.

The medical system is notorious for not taken not-men seriously, and you gotta factor in medical racism too. Doctors loved to ask about what my future husband wanted. And if it wasn’t that, it was the money. A lot of insurance plans wouldn’t cover it, assuming it was a superfluous procedure. But the stars have finally aligned where my insurance didn’t suck too bad and an obgyn doctor talked to me like the adult I was. With my suggestion– not hers, but she did support me!– I tried all the options before this one.

I’m ready for something more permanent. I’ve had two decades to think about it. I have been ready to push the button on this Nuclear Option. But there is another important factor: Those conservative men can’t get all legislative over what I don’t have, right? It’s becoming a scarier world to be in, and I’d want at least one less thing to worry about.

It seemed like a good time as any, while I’m still able to.

If all goes well, by the end of this month my uterus will be gone. I’m a little nervous– this will be my first and only major surgery to date– but the feeling of relief is much stronger.