Last year I shrank an entire inch. How does that happen to a 33 year old you wonder? Well, I was (probably) born with a fracture in my vertebrae.
I guess the stress of pregnancy and childbirth dislodged scar tissue that was basically stabilizing my spine.
But, no longer. Hence the shrinking. And frankly, a lot of pain and nerve damage .
I am reminded of Alice in Wonderland and the bottle that says "drink me" on it. I admit that it feels like I went down the rabbit hole and found myself in an unreliable, chaotic reality, so the image is apt.
I'm having back surgery. Spinal fusion. In July. They will remove a disc, insert titanium, and encourage (make?) bone growth happen. And hopefully I'll feel better after I presumably feel a lot worse for a month or so. And then my daughter will have a new narrative. One in which she won't feel compelled to ask me "Is your back not sore?" when, on rare occasion, I carry her down the stairs. Just writing this brings tears to my eyes. I hate that this is her narrative. The idea that a woman's body image can be based on what her body can do rather than what it looks like came at exactly the wrong time for me. And I can't help but wonder what impact it has on other women who have bodies that fail them in one way or another.
I'm ready for change. Both reluctant and impatient for surgery.
And now that the internet knows I'm having surgery- it must be true.
Sincerely,
Mama Rae
