Hillbilly PYHO Hump Day (Special Edition)

Happy Hillbilly Hump Day Seekers!  Normally I'd be talking some serious smack about my hillbilly neighbors and sharing all their dirty little secrets.  But not today.  No, today I'm feeling the need to "pour my heart out" and it directly involves the pregnant hillbilly daughter.  So I'm linking up with Shell over at Things I Can't Say for her PYHO.  I'm taking the liberty and calling it Hillbilly PYHO Hump Day!  Please be respectful of my post. . . . . . . it will be very open and honest.

My stepson, Justin, has made friends with the hillbillies.  I'm so not thrilled with the idea of him hanging out with those heathens, but he's 17.  If  I tell him not to or that he can't, it's just going to make him want to do it even more.  And again, he's 17, like he'd listen to me about that anyway.  So I try to encourage him to find other friends and explain why it's probably not a good idea to hang out with them.  Anyway, it does help me get the low down on their personal business, so I can blog about them!  (Yes, I know I'm a terrible person, but if you've read my prior hillbilly posts you'd totally understand)!

First off, for my new readers, I'm 33 and I've never had children (of my own) and I had a hysterectomy last year.  It was devastating, to say the least.  Most days I'm able to put on a happy face and pretend that I'm coping with it just fine.  I wear a mask that says "I'm fine, no need to worry about Buffee anymore".  But truth be told, I'm not fine.  I'm still grieving the loss of my lifelong dream of having a baby, becoming a mother, and raising a family. The day they cut out my uterus, they took a piece of my heart right along with it.  A piece I can never get back.  A piece that took a life time to create, now gone, forever.  I cried everyday for months.  I still cry some days.  Don't get me wrong, I am happy.  But I have a broken heart and I don't know if it will ever completely heal.       

The whole process of infertility is difficult, frustrating and heart wrenching.  It's long and lonely.  Yes, I had a partner, my husband, and he was there for me, most of the time.  But my severe endometriosis and  infertility took a huge toll on our marriage.  We went more than a year without having intercourse, because I couldn't.  My periods were lasting 3-4 weeks with only 4-5 days in between each one the year before my hysterectomy.  Even when I was "able" to have "sex" I didn't want to.  It was the very last thing on my mind.  And to make matters worse, intercourse was extremely painful.  I had to be doped up on pain pills just to have intercourse.  William was incredibly patient about the sex and  I tried like hell to do my part to help him out in other ways.  But our marriage was definitely lacking in more ways than one.  When you lose that physical intimacy, you lose an important part of your marriage.    

The hysterectomy was a choice.  My choice.  An "elective" surgery, covered by insurance, due to my extensive female health issues.  It was a hard choice.  Probably the hardest one I've ever had to make.  To hold on or let go?  I can honestly say, not a single day goes by that I'm not thankful I had it done.  I'm not in pain anymore.  I'm not bleeding all of the time anymore.  I'm not addicted to pain pills anymore.  My marriage and relationship with my husband have improved beyond words.  And the sex, well let's just say we're definitely making up for lost time!  

For the longest time I wondered why me?  Why did this happen to me?  Why can everyone else have children but me?  Why is my body all fucked screwed up?  I still have those moments.  Not everyday.  But days when I see the hillbilly girl buying and smoking pot, it feels like another piece of my heart breaks.  It's like having an old wound ripped back open.  Last night Justin told me that she (the pregnant hillbilly) is smoking pot and drinking, because she doesn't care if she "kills" the baby AND she's planning on having an abortion anyway.  It makes me question everything.  It's such a huge trial of faith.  One I have a really hard time putting into words.  The hillbilly daughter is carryiing a precious little life that I would have given anything to have, and she's doing everything she can to abort it.  (I should mention the fact that I'm 100% pro-choice for everyone else in the world, accept myself).  I'm not judging her, I'm just trying to convey how it hurts my heart.  How it sets me back in my "recovery" process.  Because that's the way I see it.  

Today I do my best to live one day at a time.  To enjoy the things I do have and love and accept my life for what it is and not what I dreamed it would be.  (By that I mean having a huge family and lots of children).  I do have a family, one that includes my stepson.  He helps fulfill that maternal need.  And for that I am thankful.  I also have a great relationship with my husband, that continues to get better each and every day.  We have a home, a car, good jobs, and plenty of material things.  I have nieces and nephews I adore.  But there's still a piece of my heart missing, broken.  

I don't know if I believe everything happens for a reason anymore.  I think life just happens.  The one thing I can say I've learned through my experience is I'm definitely stronger than I thought.  No matter what it is, I feel like I can handle it now.  It wasn't very long ago I can remember thinking and feeling like I couldn't handle anything else.  If one more thing goes wrong, I think I'm going to lose it.  But I have made it.  Through EVERYTHING life has thrown my way (atleast so far)!  

I do have faith, but it's different now.  My outlook on life is different.  When I was going through all of this, one of my best friends told me "maybe happiness isn't some huge elaborate plan, maybe it's something that just happens after we learn to smile"!  Those are words I live by now.  

Thanks for letting me pour my heart out!