Stephanie Gallanosa

Where will my uterus go when she is cut out of my body?
Will my intestines miss their neighbor?
Will my kidneys notice she is gone?
Will she sit at the bottom of a medical waste bin wondering where it all went wrong?

Maybe she will meet the love of her life.
Maybe she will get her master’s degree and land her dream job.
Maybe she will have 3 perfect children, buy a home, and enjoy a perfect work-life balance.

Maybe she will forego college and backpack around South America.
Maybe she will pick up an instrument and join a band.
Maybe she will lead an exciting and fulfilling life.
Maybe she will never feel the need to be someone’s wife, someone’s mom.

Maybe she will meet a perfectly nice man who doesn’t raise his voice at her.
Maybe they will adopt a couple of dogs after trying for kids for several years.
Maybe she will spend years feeling broken and incomplete.
Maybe she will rack up $30 k in credit card debt trying to fill this void inside of her.

Maybe she will feel free once she is rid of her diseased body.
Maybe she will finally allow herself to grieve.
To love herself again. To feel whole. Unbroken.
Maybe she will forge new dreams. A new identity.

Maybe she will have a vague memory of her first home.
Maybe she will think of me fondly.
Maybe.