The One Where I Have A Story to Tell

This post was originally written on August 27, 2012, and appeared on my old website, kintzfactor.com.

Hello...My name is Carrie. I’m 30… I’m a publicist. Fluent in sign language but lack the ability to have kids. Why you ask? No uterus. And they’re not like kidneys. No spare.

My name is Carrie. Oh, you like pizza? Me too! By the way, I don’t have a uterus.

Hi… thanks for taking me out for a really excellent first date. Buuuut I probably should have mentioned I can’t bear children because my uterus is gone.

No, those aren’t actual conversations – but they’ve certainly played in my head over and over so many times, they are starting to become real. It’s like getting “Call Me Maybe” stuck in your head. After twenty minutes, you’re begging for a lobotomy.  (Unless you’re watching this video. Then it’s the most amazing song I’ve heard this summer.)

Everything in my imaginative conversations is true. My name is Carrie. I just turned 30 (By the way, to all of you who told me the 30’s will be better than my 20’s? I feel like you owe me money. This first month has been nothing short of hell. What? Maybe I *was* expecting instant relief. That’s practical and rational. Right?) I do like pizza. I can’t have kids because I had a hysterectomy just a short time ago. (By “short time,” I meant 6 days ago.) The reason I’m now sharing is that I’ve had many people ask me what’s going on with me. I decided the time had come to sit down and process through writing the last 18 years. (Don’t worry. I’m going for brevity.)

My story is gory. Many of my female friends can’t stand the details, so I’ll refrain from going all Stephen King on you. It is also painful. Physical pain that haunted me every month for years. Emotional pain inflicted in the form of uncaring doctors and people who had an opinion on what I should do with my body. Mental pain from endlessly wondering what on earth happened in Heaven when God was knitting my body together in my mom’s womb.

Nonetheless, my story is redemptive. It’s joyful. It’s full of circumstances I never imagined, and people I wouldn’t have met had I not struggled. It is the catalyst for my transformation. This is the testimony of my family, the wackiest, loveliest, most loyal people you will ever meet. This is a reflection of friends, who have walked beside me, carried me and loved me.

Ultimately, it’s the witness of my Jesus, Who has never failed me. It’s the person of my Father – Jehovah Jireh and Rapha – He has seen me and provided. He has healed me. It is the comfort of my Holy Spirit. He wraps me in Truth and reveals that which I had not known. He is my Seal. He is my Counselor.

The best part is this is not the tale of a hysterectomy at the age 30.

This is a new beginning.

Read #2 in the series: The One Where I Come to Terms

5 thoughts on “The One Where I Have A Story to Tell

  1. Carrie, I’ve just been introduced to you through this blog and don’t know much of your journey, but I just want to encourage you by reminding you that there are MANY ways for a woman to be a life giver. Your writing is one way, but God has so much more in store! God bless you.

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  2. Nancy, Thank you so much for stopping by! Feel free to poke around – I’m ashamed to admit I haven’t been consistent with the writing, but now that I’m feeling better, I hope to keep this much more updated. 🙂

    And thank you for your words of encouragement. It’s been very freeing to be able to write my story and share it with wonderful people like yourself. Have a great day!

    Carrie

    Like

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