Dear Uterus

Dear Uterus,

You are now on WARNING. I am about to throw up the white flag of defeat. No, I'm not evicting you in entirety; however, be forewarned, our endometrium? Yeah that fucking piece of shit? Yeah, it's going to get straifed with a flame thrower. For realz.

I've lived 44 years of my life naively thinking that eventually motherhood would find me; I'm only realizing now that motherhood was never looking for me in the first place.

The time for valiant and diligent effort has passed. No tears are being shed. I've intellectualized myself OUT of thinking it'll ever happen. We're not trying. Too many risks, too many really to itemize herein.

So that all being said, since it's not going to happen, there's no need for me to worry about the permanence of permanently destroying my endometrium as a way to stave off the excessive pain (and not to mention the mess of what is essentially hemorraghing).

Yes, uterus. You're going to be burned. And while I'm at it, you might as well let your friends The Fallopian Twins, that they're on notice too. I"m going to get those fuckers tied up in square knots hopefully at the same time I burn the shit out of the endometrium.

Yes, it's come down to either it's you or me, and I don't know about you, uterus, but I've got a lot of shit to do, and even if I didn't, I don't want to live in excessive pain for the next ten years until I stop menstruating.

Fuckyouverymuch,
Signed,
Maven