You’re born with two ovaries, a cervix, and a uterus. You’re told that one day you will become a lady, and that day will be one of the most memorable moments of your life. Because then you’re able to create life. Yes, it’s painful, and you will experience all kinds of emotions during the month, but it’s a way of life. We are expected to shed our cells like clockwork while we keep up with life, just so we can use what we’re given to create it in the end. Our reproduction is a right and a gift given to use from the first breath we take when entering this giant world. Today, I’m officially taking a part of that right away. It’s like when you get a puppy and are so excited to teach it, love it, and watch it grow old with you. I know it’s a weird analogy. Who in their right mind compares an ovary to a puppy? Well, today I do. In a few hours, my puppy is getting put to sleep. Being taken from me too early, not given the chance to live its cycle to the fullest.
This is what is playing over and over again as Evan and I walk through the sliding doors of the surgery center. My eyes are trained straight ahead to the small welcome counter where I sign in. Evan stands beside me, waiting for what I think he expects to be another break. I don’t feel anything yet.
I’m numb.
I’m empty and nothing’s been taken yet. One of the sites that I found over the last week talk about how after this type of surgery we will feel a loss. That our emotions will range—you’ll be high one moment and low the next. Some have said they’ve become a crying mess just because the wind blew the wrong way. Other’s talk about how they feel a part of them is missing. I already feel that way, and they haven’t even taken it from me yet. Over the years, I’ve become accustomed to surgeries— the effect of how the anesthesia makes me feel, how at times I have to fight the odds and push myself through life. Being single means I have to work. I don’t have someone who can hold my hand and reassure me that everything will get better. It’s me and only me through the emotional side of this behind closed doors. The girls have and will always be there for me, but they can only hold my hand and give me positive feedback. They don’t experience the pain, the crazy nightmares, the way my body will change from one day to the next. I fight everyday to make it through with no one else knowing how I feel on the inside. That’s one of the things that scares me with Evan. All these years it’s been me hiding it all, experiencing the good and the bad alone. What happens when someone that I love sees it all? One of the main fears that I’ve had more than anything over the last twenty-four hours is that I don’t want Evan to see it all. I want to protect him from this part of my life, tuck it away, and pretend that I was never diagnosed with a disease you can’t see.
It’s a beauty and a curse with it being hidden…
I push all the thoughts from my mind when I notice Morgan, Natasha, and Zara enter the waiting room. A part of me thought Zara would listen, then the other half knew she wouldn’t miss this for anything.
“Hi, and I told you not to come.”
“Good thing I never listen. Plus, I needed a little break. Hatcher can handle Madison for a little while. He plans to come up later once his mom gets to the house.”
I shake my head and tightly grip her hand in mine as she sits next to me. No more words are needed. I lean my head over, placing it on her shoulder for a little longer before they call my name to come back.
“See you guys soon,” I say, standing. Before I can walk away, Evan reaches over for me, and right here in the middle of the whole surgery center he plops the longest, hottest kiss ever on my mouth. Dazed, I follow the nurse and send a silent prayer that all things go well. The girls know what to expect. They understand that I never allow them back here before they take me to surgery. This is my time, my way of accepting the next step, and today is no different than the past. The only thing that’s different is that they aren’t singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me as I count backward from ten. I still think of the very first surgery I ever had. For some strange reason I find it comforting, and it sends me to the deepest sleep I’ll have until the next surgery happens.
I’m sleepy, sore, and scared to open my eyes. The sound of the monitors beep around me, alerting me that I’m in recovery. The warmth of the heated blankets weighs down my body, allowing me to sink a little more into the cushion of the bed. I know when I finally decide to open my eyes, I’ll have to face the truth of today. For that I allow my eyes to stay closed a little longer while ignoring the nurse who’s trying to wake me.
The faint sound of Evan’s voice echoes through my ear, causing me to question if it’s a dream or reality. If I open my eyes, will I see him? Will he be standing above me, looking down at the broken girl hooked up to monitors? I take a chance to open one eye and gaze around the room before shutting them both tightly. It’s not a dream; it’s really him, and this all did happen. I slide my hand down under the covers until I reach my left side. Instantly, I rub it along the bandage, and the emptiness hits. Is it strange that I can feel how hollow the space has become? That my body feels overall different. It’s like a weight was removed from my side, and now nothing is left to fill the void. This could be totally mental, but I don’t need confirmation that the ovary was removed—I can feel it’s gone. I don’t need for a doctor to explain to me how things went. I know exactly how it went down and what I’m left with. I’d say nothing, but that’s not true. If my right ovary is as good as they’ve told me in the past, then I have one good guy left. One good chance that I can still be the woman I want to be.
“Frankie, it’s time to wake up. Let me see those eyes that I love to look into,” Evan whispers in my ear. His breath lingers on my cheek, and his words sink into my heart. I take a chance and open them, turning my head slightly toward him. He smiles and brushes the back of his palm against my face. “There she is, how ya feel?”
“Okay, I guess. Tired and sore.”
“That’s to be expected. The doctor said things went well, and they were happy with how things looked.”
“That’s nice,” is all I can say. I mean, how much description can you give about someone’s insides that are covered with specs of pink that look like a peppermint exploded inside you?
“Your parents’ are out front and would like to come back and see you when you’re ready.”
“They can come back soon. Did Zara go home? She’s so tired and needs to.”
“No, you have a waiting room full of people who want to see you. The nurse will be in soon, and then once we move you over to holding, they can come back. Do you need anything?”
“No, I just need to sleep a little more.”
“Okay, you do that, and I’ll be back soon,” he says before he places his lips on my forehead. I let go of his hand and slide it down next to the other. Right here in this moment I hold a small ceremony for a part of me that I just lost. I do this silently as no one else needs to know. I must have dozed back off because I jolt awake as the bed is moving. Time passes with me waking and sleeping. Answering questions to the nurses that keep coming and going.
“Easy, dear, we’re just moving you to holding.” I can hear my mother’s voice next to the nurse. I know she’s been back with me, but I thought she left. See, this is what the good drugs do to me. They make me swim in the air and lose all amount of time. Reality becomes a dream; a dream becomes reality. I’ve also learned to not talk much when recovering because I’ll admit to anything or, for that matter, agree to anything while under the influence. The bed jerks again as we enter a private room. The lights are bright, and it’s hard for me to open my eyes fully. I notice my mother’s speaking with what looks like Dr. Cam, and fear sets in. Did something else happen? Is that why I feel so empty now? Did they have to take it all? Why are they whispering? My eyes are wide as they search the room for Evan or one of the girls. I know if they were in here, they’d tell me what was going on. I don’t see them which causes panic to set in. “Mom, Dr. Cam, what’s wrong? I need to go home.”
Dr. Cam rushes over to the bed. “Calm down. You’re okay, and I’m
glad to see you awake.”
“What are y’all talking about? Did you take it all? Is it all gone?”
“Easy, Frankie. No, the surgery went perfect. We were able to safely remove the left ovary, tube, and adhesions. Dr. Downey and I got as much of it out as we could without jeopardizing anything else. It was as perfect as perfect could go with this.”
“So, I still have a good side?”
“Yes, and in time you’ll feel as good as new. I want you to rest and take it easy, okay? When you feel up to it, you can go home where you’ll be more comfortable.”
“I’m ready… I want my bed.”
“Alright, well I’ll let the nurse know, but you need to sit up some and make sure that you’re up to traveling. Take it easy, and if you need anything, call the office,” he says, squeezing my hand before he leaves. Relief overcomes me as I allow his words to sink in. I was petrified that I’d lose it all this time, but in time, I know I’ll come to accept that only part of me is missing. I scoot myself up in the bed, allowing my mother to help prop me up with the pillows from behind me. She excuses herself to go out and let the girls come back to see me. I know once they witness that I’m alive and well they will excuse themselves to go about their day. That I’m thankful for. Morgan has two businesses to run, Natasha has people to protect, and Zara has a baby to love on. With the help of Evan, I’ll get home and be able to recover the best that I can.
My heart constricts as I think about the one person that’s missing today—Brody. I know I never said anything to him, and I shouldn’t expect him to be here. He’s saved me enough over the years, but a part of me wonders if he even knew about today. I refuse to ask as I don’t want to know the answer; actually I do, but then that’s not letting us heal from each other. It would be me still hindering his life, and I can’t be selfish and think that he would drop everything and come here. I continue to reflect on life, Brody, the future I want with Evan and Neil a little longer until the door opens. When I look over, I notice all three girls entering, and I offer up the realest smile that I think I’ve ever flashed at them.
For reasons I can’t explain, fear left me today. I realized that no matter what I have the life that I was meant to have. I might not like the deck of cards I drew, but dang if I’m not playing them right. With time, I’ll heal from this surgery just as I have from the others. No more sleepwalking and hiding from this. It will no longer be who I am. I’m going to be what I want to be, and that’s the best friend to three amazing ladies, a lover to Evan, and maybe a new mom to Neil if allowed. Most of all, I’m going to start defining what my life will be—not my Endometriosis.
Chapter 20
Am I crazy for how great I feel? Yes, but you didn’t have to agree with me on this. Now don’t get me wrong, the first few weeks after surgery I was an emotional basket case. Like really, I cried at a drop of a hat, I was furious, and beyond a point of control at moments. Thankfully my friends, Evan, and Neil love me. Today, though, I feel like a new person. Literally, I woke up, and it all changed. I don’t know what caused it or how it happened, it just did. I’ve been sleeping, and yes, I’m using the Melatonin. It’s been a life saver as I have the hardest time turning my mind off. I become focused on things that I don’t need to focus on at two in the morning. Thinking about the change, I guess I’d have to give it to Dr. Cam and Dr. Downey. You see, yesterday was my check-up from surgery, and I received a good bill of health. This means it’s sexy time with the hunk down the street. Any confusion, that hunk is Evan, and I can’t wait to sink my paws into him. He’s been the best and the worst at times.
Example one: How can he refuse me standing before him in the nude, showcasing all my beauty? Oh let me tell you, this has happened, and he has refused me gratification several times. We’ve found other ways to please each other, but I want all of him. Not to mention, I need him… Evan Taylor needs to devour me until I’m in a sexual-induced coma. Do those happen? If not, don’t tell him that answer because I want to have fun trying for it at least.
Example two: How flipping adorable can you think a man is running around chasing a laughing eight-year-old boy? Very adorable, especially when you start to envision the sweat pouring off his chest from trying to put you into a sexual-induced coma. See the pattern here?
Example three: I’m in love and can’t get enough of him. There’s nothing else I can say about this other than Evan holds a major section of my heart while Neil holds the rest. Don’t tell Zara because she thinks Madison should be the love of my life right now. Yes, I love her, but it’s different than it is with my guys. I’ll love and guard Madison with all my might, but I want to get freaky with my main guy—Evan.
Thinking about him, I pull my phone out and send him a quick text. It’s Saturday, and he had to go show a few houses to a family that’s moving here. Which means I get to hang out with my little guy, and we have a date with the park; oh and cupcakes, but don’t tell his dad because I promised to not spoil him today.
Me: Want to get freaky with me? I’ll have to pencil you in as I’m headed to the park with my other guy.
Evan: I’ll always get freaky with you unless you’re healing, then that’s a no-zone. Have fun at the park, and don’t over do it.
Me: The no-zone has been lifted, remember? I promise to not over do it. See you later tonight. XXXOOO
Evan: See you later. XXXOOO
“Neil, you ready,” I call out through the house as I double check that I have everything. I admit I might have gone overboard. I found the cutest bag the other day that I can use to hold snacks, hand sanitizer, wipes, oh snacks again, drinks, and well just stuff—you get the picture.
“Ready,” Neil exclaims as he stares up at me, and I grab our bag from the kitchen counter. Sheila, yes I said Sheila, told me about this park and ever since driving past it, Neil and I have been going weekly. It’s small and close by, so it doesn’t take up most of the day. He’s been playing with a few of the other kids that we’ve met here, and it gets me out of the house. Seems like this is our new Saturday, or my new Saturday. It’s fun to feel like I belong someplace, and there’s no judgment from the other moms as I know most of them already. This has also fueled them all to gang up on me about the Boudoir sessions. I talked it over with Devon a few weeks ago, and he was more than on board with the idea. So much so that he’s creating a private room for just this at the studio. He explained that he had a few inquiries, but most women are more comfortable with a lady doing the shoot—that would be me. Today I plan to announce it and hand out the pamphlets Evan and I created the other night. Devon is allowing me to setup the set like I want, and I’ll be in charge of the whole thing. I’ve come to learn that we have some freaks in this subdivision, and I can’t wait to watch this unfold. Not to mention I miss my camera, which is why I have it packed with me for our park adventure. Evan’s been complaining that he needs some new pictures of Neil, and what better way to get those than to get him playing and being a kid. We’ll check off two things for the day. I do, however, have a surprise for him later, because this morning I talked Neil into dressing up and letting me take some formal ones of him in the backyard. I even promised to show him how to edit them when we get back from the park.
Arriving at the park, Neil rushes off to play with his friends who are waiting for him while I grab my things from the back seat. I notice the other two ladies that I’ve become friendly with and head in their direction.
“Hi, guys.”
“Hi, Frankie, how are you feeling?” Della asks while digging for a wipe in her bag to wipe her hands.
“Good, thanks. What about you two?”
Caroline turns to shade her eyes from the sun behind me. “Tired, this little one isn’t sleeping, and now that we’re sitting here, she passes out while her brother plays.”
“If you ever need a break, just let me know,” I offer and wonder why I’m offering my services to someone I hardly know. I should be texting Zara to see how she is, but I know they went to see the gra
ndparents this morning. Once a month they venture out, splitting up time between their parents’ houses. This allows them just enough time with Madison before Zara and Hatcher go nuts.
“Thanks, but I’ll be okay. Just adjusting to having another infant. I swear, I forgot how it was to be sleep deprived. I knew we should’ve had them closer together,” Caroline continues, and I have to feel for her since her daughter and son are close to being six years apart. That’s a huge difference, especially when those sleepless night were so long ago. I watch Zara and how she is with the missing sleep, and I wonder all the time if I could do it. Neil is pretty easy going and doesn’t like me to fuss over him. I blame that on the fact the he grew up a little faster than needed, but then he’s kind of perfect. “If y’all will excuse me, I need to take some shots of Neil before the light disappears.”
I walk away from them, leaving them on the park bench to watch from a distance. Okay, the real reason is I want to play at the park, too. What better way than to climb the slide and take shots of the kids sliding down it? See, who said you had to grow up? You just need a reason to play and look normal while doing it. This way I can goof off with him, have fun, and take snaps of it all. Before I know it, Neil is in my lap, and we’re sliding down the giant slide laughing. When we get to the bottom, I stop him from getting up and turn the lens toward us both. This is why I love my remote control; I can take the best selfie ever.
Time flies by, and before I know it, I’m handing out the pamphlets I have and dragging a very tired Neil back toward to the car. Leaving with over ten new appointments for next week, I smile as I can’t wait to see what the burb moms want to do.
Once we arrive back home, Neil goes to clean up and is ready for a snack before we take a look at our pictures from the day. He’s more excited than I am to show them to Evan. I’ve come to learn that the little guy likes to surprise his dad. Before he did little things like draw him a picture, now he recruits me to help in them, and this is just one of many more to come.
Heated Sweets (A Taste of Love Book 3) Page 17