Excuse Me While I Rant…

I’m thirty.

I’m practically a baby.

So many years are ahead of me and all I can focus on is the immediate future.

The tests. The exams. The results.

More tests and more results.

I’m not whole.

I’m broken and

they can’t seem to fix me.

My mind wanders as I listen to the list of tests I need to schedule and

I begin to ask myself questions.

Will I be a mother once again?

Will I be able to live a life of quality?

Will the next results reveal the solution to all my problems?

Or will they only bring about more tests and more prodding?

Am I strong enough?

I’m sorry…while I know there are bigger issues out there and I am nothing but a speck of dust in this great universe, I can’t help but to stop for one second and bitch.

I want to feel as young as I am.

I want to run after my son, keep up with him in the pool, and know I’ll see him graduate.

I want to make another life. Or two.

I want to keep my right to bear another child.

Fuck this body and it’s problems.

I want a do over.

I want shiny. I want new.

Give me that fresh scent of a new, right off the shelf body.

I want to be whole.

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