The One About Shame

It is exactly 6 years since I published my first book. Bloom – the period diary. Looking back at who I was, I was convinced that teaching girls the basics would save them years if they were looking for a diagnosis.

This desire to give the next generation what I didn’t have fuelled my work to create the Furaha Program. It has now come full circle, as Miss K is in a cohort. Time truly does fly.

I’ve spent the last couple of years gleaning knowledge to help more women. That’s how I ended up being a certified Menstrual Cycle Coach.

I genuinely enjoy talking about all things menstrual health. The last year or so, my own period has been so harsh. I’ve been admitted twice because of it.

This isn’t my first rodeo with complicated menses. When I was 19 years old, I was diagnosed with Endometriosis. It was so good to have a name for it but also deeply shameful. It wasn’t my elbow or little toe that was hurting. Instead it was my ovary and intestines playing games. Popping cysts like popcorn.

It referred to how wonky my body was. How it was failing at one of the basic things – having a period. Sharing my story gave me a community of women to walk with. Women just like me, whose body’s sometimes let them down.

A week ago, I had my 7th surgery. A hysteroscopy. It was a day surgery but I was terribly anxious. The surgery went well but I came out feeling so ashamed. It felt like my body was letting me down again and this was a whole new chapter in my story. It wasn’t endo but something else all together.

As I was trying to process the whole thing in therapy. My therapist asked me a question that gave me so much perspective.’ Just because you are mechanic does that mean your car will never breakdown?’ Being a professional doesn’t offer immunity. These struggles might still be there.

The thing about menstrual health issues is that they can be deeply lonely and personal. They have a lot of shame pegged to them. As I did my quiet time, I realized that this shame is not a new thing. Even the woman with the issue of blood, who had bled for 12 years, went alone to find Jesus. She didn’t shout or draw attention to herself. She quietly reached out to touch the hem of his garment. If you draw a parallel with the paralytic who had his friends who dug a hole in the ceiling and lowered him down to Jesus.

I’m really grateful that I have been surrounded by love. Love shatters the shame. Even during this time as I wait for the histology report, I’m still a little worried about the future, wondering if this issue of the blood will become a thing of the past, soon. I know I shouldn’t worry about tomorrow as each day has worries of it’s own. So I whisper to my heart, Peace be still.

I am Still Here

I’ve been doing the school run the last couple of days, last week the traffic was horrible. Even the back routes were stuffed and it just felt like though we were inching in traffic, we weren’t quite moving. What used to be a 15 minute commute became a 45 minute commute.

Today as we were headed to school and seated in traffic. Ms Ky asked me an interesting question, ‘Mama, if Adam and Eve hadn’t eaten the fruit, there would be no traffic, right?’ I have blamed Adam and Eve for many things but not yet for traffic. One of the biggest qualms I have with them is that if they hadn’t eaten the fruit there would be no sickness. Sickness can be like traffic in this journey of life.

Healing is a heavy subject. We can pray and fast all we like but it remains God’s prerogative on who He chooses to live in the same situation, who He chooses to be fully healed and who He chooses to die.

We take the answer we get, in the timing that it comes, and even if He doesn’t answer as we’d hoped we have to believe that He is still a good Father.

I have been quite sick this year. I have spent a few weeks each month in hospital while praying for healing. I am now more ready to talk about the journey, as it has been different from my earlier intense battle with Endometriosis. I recently also found out that one of the adhesions I initially had had grown back again after surgical removal. This has weighed heavily on my heart as I thought that healing is linear, but it is not.

I am still here, hopeful in Christ. Not here because He heals, but because He is.

Healing may come, or I may have to live while taking the pills or find rest at the feet of Jesus. Either way He remains God.

If you would like to support my healing journey, please see the details below. I have a bill in hospital and monthly and bimonthly hospital visits while taking some pretty expensive medication.

I don’t know what next, but I’m still here.