The Sweet Sacrifice of a Broken Body

What do you do when your greatest gifts cause your body to work against you? For years, I’ve noticed the increasing pressure on my bladder. The discomfort and anxiety I carry any time we are anywhere for too long. The inability to feel at ease going somewhere without a restroom around. The embarrassment and shame I’ve carried when I’ve had to make my kids wait forever again just for me to feel relieved enough to run. Lately, it's become quite debilitating, life-altering, and tear-shedding, and something I could no longer ignore.

I've shared with some people close to me my results and realized all the more that I'm not alone in this. I've read so many posts from women in a prolapse support group on Facebook, and I've felt the hurt and shame in all of them. This shame that our bodies have betrayed us. So many of us are still young, and there's this underlying fear that we're broken. Such strong women reaching out in support of each other, still not denying the blessing of our children despite the fact we feel like our bodies are "ruined" as result. What freaking warriors. What women we are to have sacrificed our lives for another, and not even a consideration to hesitate if we were to have to relive everything we've gone through in order to bring about these lives.

I've seen so many things lately trying to say they empower women while they seem to portray that we are merely bodies- not even bodies- objects of sexual gratification. Those perverted guys devoid of any wisdom are loving it. We women have been used and abused so much of our lives, yet it's in the sacrificial giving of ourselves for others of our choosing, showing we are so much more than the small box many want to put us in that I see so much beauty. There are so many girls looking up to us wanting to find their voice and their worth- their beauty, and I'm not in the least bit impressed with what I've seen glorified lately that so many young girls are emulating. The same areas many of us have sacrificed are being glorified in a way that could make a young girl see a baby as a threat to her value. It makes me want to weep. I've told my girls, "Everybody has a body. Show them you're more than that." We are. We truly are more than our bodies. Let's not confuse who we are and what we're capable of and reduce ourselves to such a small piece of us that should only be shared with someone who wholly knows and loves us enough to commit the rest of their lives to loving us. We're so much more than that.

As I go through yet another physical battle, I felt this shame that I need to keep this to myself. That I shouldn't share this with the world. That somehow what's happened as a result of me sacrificing my body to bring these beautiful, living beings into the world should be something I take to my grave in fear of what people might think. Yet, I've been writing a chapter in my book about knowing your worth and reading past entries I've written on my journey that had me tear up being brought back to those places, hearing other people's stories, and feeling this need to bring this to light. We women carry so many battle scars. They're all so worth it. There's so much respect I have for so many others in my place, and I'm trying so hard to give myself that same respect as I also carry the grief of feeling broken. I have to believe that God wouldn't allow me to go through this if it wouldn't make me stronger, show forth His strength, or help another person out on their journey, and just that possibility makes me feel like I cannot keep this to myself.