My mother wouldn’t want me to talk about this; not here, where everyone can see me. What isn’t pretty should be handled privately… or so she taught me, and her mom taught her, and so on and so forth. But the page is a place of connection. If I’m not fully present here, then what’s the point?

To put it bluntly, my organs are falling out. That’s a slight exaggeration. “Descending” is more accurate. However I frame it, it’s a disconcerting thought. My uterus, well, there’s a sign on that one that reads, “We’re done here!” But my bladder and my rectum, though performing their functions poorly, still seem necessary. I can’t have them planning their escapes.

The news of my organs descending surprised me. Like many women following childbirth, I’ve struggled with “peezing” (a word contributed by

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