A couple of weeks ago I checked the mail and found a little pink card folded over and sealed from my doctor’s office. I immediately became a little nervous. I tried to remember any tests that I was waiting for results from and quickly came up empty. Bewildered I put the other mail down and ripped it open.
Dear Tashmica, You are due for you yearly papsmear. Please call and set up you appointment at your earliest convenience.
I felt no immediate release of the concern brought on by the card. Instead, the new anxiety of having to go get another pap smear arose in my stomach. I obediently called and made my appointment for the health and well being of my Va-J.J. My mother would have been proud.
Fast forward a couple of weeks and as I was preparing to roll into bed after a busy day I remembered that I had my check up in the morning. Ugh. I have not shaved my legs and I am going to have to wake up early for a shower. The alarm did not go off or I slept in. Whichever circumstance paints me in a more favorable light. Choose your adventure.
So after dropping off my older kids at school Levi and I headed to my appointment.
Unshaven and unshowered.
This blog is really not about my own personal vagina monologues. It’s about how far I have fallen. It is about the fact that the reason I deem it necessary to shave my legs is not for my husband, a nice skirt or for my own self worth. Nope. It’s for my gynecologist.
I have been a wife for nearly 7 years and I have been a mother for almost the same period of time. My life has changed substantially and my time is definitely more limited. I can still hear my father reminding me that I can only have 24 hours in a day during a sleepy conversation rubbing my swollen pregnant belly. I know he’s right, even now, but I am still attempting to squeeze more time out. The lemon has been squeezed dry.
The lowered standard at my check up made me consider my lowered standards in other areas of my life. How long has it been since I shaved my legs? Have I sat on the floor and played with my kids this week? When was the last time I prayed? Does my husband know that I still find him dreamy? Have I had a heart to heart with him lately?
I know that I give my family great meals, clean boxers, my heartfelt prayers and laughter. I know these things. I also know that I am not perfect and the lines are often blurry. It was time for another kind of check up. I was grateful for the reminder.
Even if I had to put my legs in stirrups to get it.