As most of y’all know, my uterus is attempting to make its escape before I put it to use again. Birthing Tricia apparently traumatized it a lot. And really, I can’t be mad because birthing Tricia traumatized my…most of me a lot. (My boobs still cry when they see themselves in the mirror, but that’s not all *Tricia’s fault, Lenna assisted in the downfall of my boobs.)

So. *I’m not mad at my uterus, but my cooper might be just a little bit tired of playing warden here. (But kudos have to be given to my cooper for doing the job. Apparently, there are some coopers who give up stopping the escape attempts altogether, leaving the uterus free to wander on out.)

Given my cooper’s newfound reluctance to do its job, I’ve had 3 separate gyn appointments to deal with the issue. The first one was when I got my diagnosis of “prolapsed uterus” aka “your uterus is making a run for it.” That was with Dr. L.

The second one was the appointment during which I discussed hysterectomy with Dr. V. I love all of the doctors in my ob/gyn clinic, truly. But Dr. V has this idea that since she’s a doctor, she knows about medical stuff, even more than me. Frustrating, I tell ya.

Dr. V wanted me to wait a month to “think it over” about the hysterectomy. I asked her if she’d say the same about a tubal, and she said no. Um…whaaa? Except that, apparently, tubals are less permanent than hysterectomies. Again, whaaa? Permanent is permanent; right? But what do I know — I can’t even keep all my body parts happy enough to want to hang around.

I accept Dr. V’s month long waiting period. Then I get home and realize that means another month of Steph v. Uterus: This Time It’s Personal, and well…not so much with that. There are fewer things in life that are more annoying than the feeling that something is in one’s cooper that ought not to be there. (I could discuss how this relates to men, but really, that’s too easy.)

So, I make an appointment with Dr. L for today. Dr. L is super-sympathetic, but she also wants me to wait a month. Apparently, I have not made the situation clear to these women. “MY JUNK IS MAKING A RUN FOR THE BORDER!,” I say. Dr. L tells me that it’s not *actually going anywhere, it just feels that way because other organs are crowding in.

Wait. What? What does this mean? It means that my cooper has not only started slacking off on its job of keeping the ol’ uterus in custody, it’s allowing other organs to invade its personal space. I think my cooper is co-dependent and believes it must deserve abuse or something. That or it’s really, really pissed at me about the whole big-headed baby thing and is punishing me.

So, Dr. L and I talk about my options, and she talks me into waiting the month but *promises me that the surgery will happen ASAP thereafter. Her reasoning re: the wait is that they need to do a PAP smear, but they have to wait until I’m more recovered from having the baby. I’m pretty sure my cooper agrees with me that a PAP smear at this point is adding insult to injury, but what can we do?

I then explain to Dr. L that I have Google, and I know how to use it and that I’m pretty sure my Ronco Showtime knives and a *really clean kitchen could make a DIY hysterectomy possible. She was not amused.

ANYway, it’s likely that 2 months from now, my uterus will be off in UterusHeaven (or wherever they go once they’re set free), and my cooper and I can resume our previously cordial relationship.

Bill can’t wait.