The Woman with Two Hearts
The statua della venere capitolina (with a little addition from me)
Sometimes miracles it seems, happen. And if not miracles, then stories that are so utterly surprising, so delightful, so full of magic and metaphor and whimsy, that they can’t be ignored. And the reason I say this is because, for me, this has just happened.
Here’s my story.
I’m a postmenopausal woman in my fifties. I haven’t had a period for around seven years, and the thing is that postmenopausal women are not supposed to bleed. But six weeks ago, I did. I bled and then bled some more, and when I thought that was done, I bled again. Postmenopausal bleeding is taken seriously as, while most cases are for benign reasons often to do with HRT, it can also be an indicator of endometrial or uterine cancer. I called the doctor and was seen within 24 hours. She put me on the urgent list for an ultrasound and biopsy. When she rang me with the ultrasound results, she sounded concerned, saying that my tissue on the ultrasound was ‘very unusual’ and the report had all the hallmarks of something worrisome.
Within a week or so I went for the biopsy. A pipelle biopsy is done without anaesthetic and can be uncomfortable. Mine was excruciating. The woman doing it was lovely, but the more she tried and tried again, the more apparent it was that this was not going to work. She couldn’t get the pipelle through the cervix. Next up an appointment with the gynaecologist and an agreement we would progress to doing it under general anaesthetic. Having private medical insurance enabled this to be actioned quickly, and the procedure was scheduled for two weeks later. That day arrived yesterday.
The plan was that I would be put out and then the gynaecologist would use a hysteroscopy, a small camera inserted via the vagina, to have a look around, take biopsy samples and scrape away excess endometrium. Then he would insert a mirena which releases a small dose of progesterone into the uterus to help prevent any future build up of the endometrium. This would mean that if the biopsy comes back clear I am all tidied up and set to go; and well, if the biopsy came back telling a different story, we’d take things on from there. This all sounded very straightforward, and I was OK with it, and yes I was also a bit nervous. My beloved stepson had died from stomach cancer a month before I started bleeding, and in the back of my mind, I was scared that my husband and I would be facing another cancer diagnosis now. Which you’d have to agree would be pretty shitty timing.
“I was in recovery and the gynaecologist had come to see me. He was smiling. I felt reassured. And this is where things get just a little bit magical.”
Into the operating theatre I went. And then the next I knew I was in recovery and the gynaecologist had come to see me. He was smiling. I felt reassured. And this is where things get just a little bit magical. He said that my cervix had been almost completely blocked by a growth. A bit like a boulder in front of a cave. He explained it was no wonder the initial biopsy attempt had been so painful, because all that pushing and prodding was going nowhere because the path was blocked. He described how he cut away the growth, and I imagined Mary Magdalene, the desert mothers, the goddesses and mystics, healers and crones all rolling it out of the way with him.
Then he said, “there is another thing you should know. You have a heart-shaped uterus”.
The medical term for a heart-shaped uterus is bicornuate. Only around 3% of people born female have this congenital condition. It happens because the two ducts that merge to form the uterus in the foetus, don’t fuse completely. This condition can go unrecognised until pregnancy, at which point it create problems for the growth of the foetus. I have never had a child, and now I see the universe may have been working for me rather than against me on that front. A heart-shaped uterus can also lead to things like pelvic pain, painful periods, endometriosis, painful sex. Tick, tick, tick and tick. I was a poster woman for it all.
But oh what a gift!
When the GP had rung me after the ultrasound six weeks ago, I thought I was looking into a pit of fear, but it turns out what we were all looking at was a vessel of love. A heart-shaped womb full of love. I guess that because of its shape and rarity and the way it was positioned deep inside of me, it made the ultrasound perplexing, something not seen before and its blurry edges and thickened walls danced like the shadows in Plato’s cave, telling a different story than what was real.
“Those wise women guiding the gynaecologist to push away the boulder across my cervix that was blocking out the light, did their work, as he did his.”
What was real to me though was that this organ of the feminine, a place that I had blamed for so many years on myriad misfortunes, seemed to have waited for when the time was right to come to light. Those wise women guiding the gynaecologist to push away the boulder across my cervix that was blocking out the light did their work as he did his. It felt as if they had waited for me to join them. Waiting for when I too was elder and crone, and then in this moment I was given this benign heart-shaped thing in the core of me. They knew I was ready.
This has all been taking some time for me to process. I have found myself thinking, how could I not love this part of me now? Look how all that fear and blame is transformed into joy. And that is what I been feeling… joy. I feel like I had been given an invitation to reset my relationship with my body; with my aging, sagging, beautiful midlife body, with a heart-shaped uterus given to me before birth, but molded by life, and placed in my consciousness in my midlife years. It is an invitation I shall embrace.
And there is another thread to this story, and that is that for the past two years I have been training with the Onespirit Interfaith Foundation in the UK. This training is hard to describe. I was drawn to it because of the work I have done with people at the end of life. I still struggle to put words around the training, so have quoted from Onespirit’s website , “Our comprehensive programme weaves together Six Strands of spiritual training, covering an expansive range from global faith traditions, the finesse of ceremony crafting, the art of empathetic listening, spiritual counselling, and psycho-spiritual practices, to the essence of community service.” This has been a deep dive into Self, Spirit and Soul, and in a week’s time that training will end with ceremony and an ordination of sorts. I can’t help thinking that being gifted this extra heart at this time is no accident. I hope that somehow it will deepen my soul-based approach to life, creativity and work.
My heartSfelt thanks to the medical professionals who made the recognition of this gift possible. And to the spirit women who helped roll the boulder to clear the pathway ahead.
So, if you asked me to place my hand on my heart now. I will place one hand on my heart and one on my other heart, the one in my belly. I am a woman with two hearts. This is not a gift to be wasted, it is one filled with love to be shared. And, after so much pain, there is magic in that.
Subscribe to my free newsletter, ‘The Soul Garden’, on Substack. You’ll be among the first to hear all the latest news about my books, art, courses and events – and this is where I will be sharing my personal reflections on the liminal spaces where creativity, spirituality, plant medicine and rites of passage meet.