to my darling body

I'm doing this post in response to Mel's call for submissions as part of BlogHer's Letter to My Body project. Reading about this project made me realize that although I often talk to my heart, I don't remember a time where I've talked to my body. So here goes.

Dear Body,

Over the last few years, I've been learning to listen to you. You've really had to yell to get my attention - numb patches all over you, double vision, sudden weight loss, anemia, serious fatigue. It took me a while, but eventually I did take action by seeing a naturopath, changing my diet dramatically, and giving you more of what you need. I hope you're really, really grateful, because it's been incredibly difficult. I've given up caffeine, alcohol, junk food, and most of the foods I associate with comfort. Without these crutches, I'm faced with the daunting task of growing up. Taking responsibility for my life and my feelings. Dealing with stuff instead of ducking it.

I'm grateful that you never stopped communicating , that you continue to speak to me. It's hard some days, but I'm glad I can finally hear you. You've got a lot of important things to say. Thanks for not giving up.

The biggest thing I'm trying not to duck right now is infertility. Technically: "primary infertility, male factor." And while this really has not much to do with you at the moment, you've definitely borne a lot of the pain my heart has been feeling over this. I know I don't treat you right when I'm in the depths of despair - for weeks now, you've been begging for more excercise, and all I'm giving you is one dance class a week. I know it's not enough, but it's just that my heart has been more in need of attention lately, and I've only got so much energy these days. You're like the older sister, watching the prodigal heart get all the attention. Maybe you're wondering when it's going to be your turn again, to get lavished with attention and care, go for a run, resume our yoga practice, have sex maybe, feel pleasure. Maybe you're feeling left out.

And the bad news is that I'm hoping to ask you a huge favour in a couple of months. I'm going to ask you to get pregnant easily and quickly. I'm going to ask you to accept the sperm of a donor who will be anonymous for hopefully only 18 years and 9 months instead of forever, and I'm going to ask you to ask an egg to embrace one of those sperm, and implant that little cluster of cells in my uterus, and feed and nurture those cells until they become a baby. I'm going to ask you to stay healthy while that baby's in my belly, to not make me puke unless it's absolutely necessary, to be strong. Then I'm going to ask you to have the strength to birth that baby, at home, with no drugs, and keep that baby safe until I can hold her in my arms and do that myself. I'll ask you to provide me with lots of milk for that baby, and lots of energy for me so I can get through the first few months until I sort of know what I'm doing.

And after that I'm not sure what I'll ask you, but you can be sure the requests are going to keep coming. At some point I hope to be asking you to do all that over again, at least one more time.

Please say yes to everything, body. I would so love that.