Lunch with the family

Monday 26 March 2007

This week-end. I had lunch with all my family at my parents’ home. I have real difficulty in explaining my emotions and feelings with regard to this lunch because it didn’t seem real to me (like my daily life moreover). I don’t have any better word: I had the impression that it wasn’t real, like a “shifting” of reality.

Of course, I was worried during the morning. Of course I was a bit stressed before the meal. But if things became relaxed during the course of lunch and the chattering about anything and nothing, I had the curious feeling that I didn’t recognise my parents. Either my father or mother, I had the feeling of not having seen them for a long time, of not knowing them any more. Perhaps I noticed how little intimacy we have?

I saw my father in deep discussion with my sister, my mother exchanging recipes with my cousin, my brothers-in-law who were joking in a corner with my man. And me, I felt good ( I wasn’t feeling afraid) but a stranger in my family. That was really strange.

I didn’t bring up the subject of my operation with my mother or with my sister. Nevertheless, I thought several times during the week about talking to them about it on this occasion, with a lively voice and eye to eye. But then, it seemed to me out of place, I no longer saw any interest in it (What’s more I still don’t see it).

I still felt “detached” from my family, but it was so obvious how l wasn’t close to them. I wondered how that happened. Is it something that’s come only from me? Why is my sister so intimate with them (at least so it seems) while there is some sort of transparent wall between them and me, a wall which prevents any deep discussion? Is it too late to set up a different relationship? Am I the only one who wants it? I don’t know. I have to say I am a bit lost here.

When my parents try to get closer to me by asking for my news, being interested in my life, I evade them, I chat but don’t talk to them about what is close to my heart, as if they couldn’t understand. As though that would do no good. I can’t confide in them or surrender to them. It’s silly because fundamentally I don’t rely on them.

It’s weird this break between us. It was always there, I know that well, nevertheless I had the feeling I only realised it on Saturday.

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Message in a Bottle

Monday 19 March 2007

To you who arrive at this blog,
To you who have followed this road before me,
To you who have had the operation,

I would like to ask you:

• Did you feel bad after the operation?


• Was your family aware that you were going to have the operation? Did you speak to them about it?


• Did you have the feeling of having arrived at the end of the road? Did you put your operation behind you?


• What changed in the way that you perceived yourself after the operation?


• Did you feel more radiant? What exactly does that mean for you?


• Have your relationships with men changed? And your relationships with women?


• Has the operation had an impact on your libido? What I’m saying is, do you want to make love more?


• Is making love really different after the operation compared with before?


• Have you been disappointed by any aspects of the operation? I mean, have you any wishes which haven’t been fulfilled by the operation?

Thank you very much in advance for your answers and I wish you a very pleasant path through life.

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Group therapy

Saturday 17 March 2007

I had an excellent Saturday. Nevertheless it wasn’t won: I had to get up early for my monthly session of group therapy and I absolutely didn’t want to go there and spend the day listening to the progress of others and staying silent about what is happening to me.

The problem was should I talk of about my circumcision, and so I could work on the questions relating to it which bother me at the moment (like for example this inability to be happy for any length of time, or my belief that my life will be nothing but a series of obstacles to overcome), or should I not talk about it which would save me from having to talk about something difficult and intimate, but then my effort would be deceptive because the basis of my anxieties wouldn’t be known.

I knew I wouldn’t be able not to talk about it to them. First of all for myself, out of respect for myself and in order to be able to continue with my group therapy. Then too for them, whom I told in January that something had terrible happened to me when I was young. It wasn’t right not to tell them what it was about and leave them all to imagine everything and anything.

Only I didn’t know how to approach the subject, how to tell them. Until the moment I spoke, I had still not decided if I was going to tell them about it. Especially as the whole group wasn’t there (3 people were missing) and OK, while throwing myself into the water, this would be the one and only time.

And then I opened my mouth. And in spite of my fear, in spite of my indecision, I told them everything that had happened since the January session. The words simply came from me and even though I felt close to tears at several points, I didn’t have to force myself to tell them.

I wasn’t at all ashamed. I didn’t feel uncomfortable either. I looked all of them in the eyes, one after another. I found that silly, because it wasn’t difficult for me. It did me good. I was really happy, truly delighted and I told them so.

They seemed moved and thanked me for having confiding in them. Some of them said that they would be thinking of me on 16 May and that they were sure everything would go well for me.

I am very proud of what I did on Saturday. I am very proud of myself and I believe, at this moment I am writing, that on Saturday, in talking about my circumcision and my future operation, I have forgiven myself a little for having been circumcised.

[original in French]

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The day I'll no longer need armour

Thursday 15 March 2007

I’ve noticed recently that my fear has lessened.

I’m no longer afraid that Dr Foldès will die. Or rather, I am “fatalist” and I’ve decided not to worry needlessly. We’ll see if he is still alive on 16 May, if not I will let you know. I’m no longer afraid of the operation itself. I find that fundamental and the question of knowing whether or not it will change anything in my life seems to me to be illogical because I am convinced that yes, it will change my life. How and at which point I don’t know but in a beneficial way I am convinced of it.

Already the preparation for the operation has been nothing but beneficial. I have stopped smoking. But there is something more important: I am more respectful and kinder towards myself. Not always, but more and more. I notice my moods more but I don’t judge them. I have the odd impression of being “more intimate with myself” which I have never had before, of living a bit more in my own rhythm.

At the same time, I am aware of preventing myself from being happy for any length of time, as that will bring only unhappiness. It’s as though I have been under a perverse spell which can transform a potential source of happiness into misfortune. For the moment I’ve found the only means of protection from this curse is to minimise the enjoyment I experience and to urge myself not to rest on the laurels of reassurance and hope. I’m keeping my armour and weapons because I am sure I’ll need to confront new misfortunes, again and again.

It’s a pity to spoil my happiness with this attention and anxiety all the time. It’s a pity to be keeping myself in fear. I have the feeling that I am passing by the very essence of life. And I want to rid myself of this conviction that, as far as I am concerned, “all good things will be paid for one way or another”. This conviction hurts me all the more as I have the impression that it's that way for me and not for others.

The day that I get there will signify that I will have regained a very important part of me which was removed at the same time as my clitoris: the possibility of believing in a shining future for myself. The possibility that good things can happen to me without my having to sacrifice anything in exchange. Yes, on that day I will be able to lay down my arms and stop fighting the shadows which my circumcision has thrown over my life. On that day I will have overcome my circumcision.

[original in French]

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My mother on the telephone

Monday 12 March 2007

Since the consultation I haven’t wanted to speak to my parents. I haven’t managed to analyse my feelings, but I didn’t want to speak to them. For two weeks I have avoided them. My father rang me at work but I cut the conversation short. In fact I found it bizarre to say “I’m fine ...No, nothing much to report...And you?” although I am seeing such important changes at the moment. Nevertheless I didn’t want to speak to my parents about my operation, to confide in them. But nor do I want to lie to them. Dilemma. Yesterday afternoon I phoned my mother. I had to speak to her about a family lunch which is taking place in two weeks. And I found the conversation pleasant. In fact I felt in a different position, as if I were her equal somehow and no longer her little girl. I felt adult and I didn’t lie. I didn’t talk about my operation but nor did I pretend there was nothing else in my life. I had the odd feeling of being able to speak freely without walking on eggshells. And talking about trivial things (but won’t there be too much to eat?”) did me good.

What is curious is that I have the feeling that it is my father from whom I am most remote at the moment. I believe my feelings concerning him are even more mixed up.

We’ll see what happens when I see the two of them in two weeks time.

[original in French]

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De-smoking

Friday 9 March 2007

I stopped smoking Thursday 8 March 2007. It is important to stop smoking 6 to 8 weeks before the operation. When you are operated on, smoking increases the general and surgical risks (amongst other things, complications with healing). Stopping smoking before the procedure leads to the disappearance of a risk of complication resulting from tobacco. So I will have stopped more than 8 weeks beforehand.

I have a patch and in spite of my man’s smoking, I feel well. As well as giving me back my clitoris, this operation is going to release me from the chains of smoking. Yipee!

In the past I tried several times to stop smoking but each time I started up again. This time I have the best reason in the world. I expected to feel more anxious but quite the reverse, I feel calm and in a good mood. Life is wonderful!

[original in French]

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My mother

Tuesday 6 March

My cousin and my best friend asked me if I was going to talk to my parents about my operation. For the moment it’s not part of my plan. I don’t believe I’ll talk to them about it before the operation. I don’t want to and don’t have the strength for it. I don’t even know if I’ll one day raise the subject with them or how I’d approach it.

When I took the decision to have the operation, I really wanted to talk to my mother about it. One day, impulsively, I phoned with that intention. But in the end I didn’t bring the subject up. I didn’t know what to say exactly. I didn’t really want to ask her for an explanation. What could she say to make it better for me. That she had it done so I would find a husband? That she had it done to be accepted by her mother in law? That it was like that in our culture?

She is very fond of “we’ll see” [?] and she sticks to tradition as much as she can.

Ultimately I couldn’t care less about her reasons. The question of why doesn’t interest me. I’d prefer it if she would tell me what happened, the parts I can’t remember. I’d also like her to tell me about herself as a woman. For her to explain her life to me, her dreams, her hopes. What she felt when she married, had children. I don’t know my mother well. For example I ask myself if she was circumcised. And I realise I don’t know with any certainty. I think so but in the end I know nothing. She speaks about herself very little. She speaks very little about anything intimate either. It’s so hard to talk to her. When a subject makes her uneasy, she shuts up, doesn’t say anything and leaves the room. She will never come back to it. A few minutes later she comes to see me about something else as though nothing mattered. She knows about my therapy but she never speaks about it. How could I share with her what I am experiencing at the moment?

I hold it against her for not having wanted the best for me, for not having tried to shield me from a practice which she had suffered herself, for being happy to follow a tradition. I ask myself how she could really love me (because she says she loves me, she says I am her favourite daughter). I don’t understand. Nevertheless I don’t feel any anger towards her. Just plenty of sadness for myself.

I sadly miss any femininity from my mother. I’ve never noticed any of her femininity. I have never seen her being attractive or seductive with my father. My mother seems to me to be a wife and a mother before being a woman. So how can I develop my own femininity if I can’t learn by her example. Something else I’m trying to learn on my own. And it’s this sort of thing that discourages me. Learning all alone, journeying through life without the guidance of my mother.

I would like her to come towards me, to be interested in me without taking our differences as criticisms of what she is. I’d like her to support me, encourage me, to be there for me. Without me asking. I’m tired of making the first move. I’m tired and I feel all alone.

[original in French]

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The consultation

3 March 2007

Yesterday I opened my eyes at 6:37. I had slept badly and I woke up several times during the night but I felt as though I had slept well. I was scared and, at the same time, I couldn’t wait.

2 March 2007 seemed to me straight away an important day. Perhaps it was one of the most important days of my life. So I explained to my body what was going to be done to it, explained that it was going to be examined, and I would be told if it could be rebuilt, to give it back what was once taken away, when I was 4 years old.

I smoked a cigarette outside, but it didn’t calm me down. My heart was beating very fast.

At 7:05 I was ready. My man asked me, from the depths of the bed in a thick voice, to call him after the appointment. That reassured me a bit, softened this sense of loneliness which I was feeling.

At 7:14 I was on the metro. I arrived in Saint Germain en Laye far too early. But above all I didn’t want to arrive late and miss my appointment. (I was warned when I made the appointment not to be late, the doctor was overwhelmingly busy and wouldn’t be able to wait for me. )

In the waiting room my legs went numb with anxiety. When he arrived, I was overcome and intimidated. I followed into his office this tall man with a soft voice and blue eyes.

He started by asking me questions:
Why are you here?
How old were you when you were circumcised?
How old are you now?
Have you any children?
Do you smoke?
Do you take any medication?
Have you ever had an operation?
Does the scarring hurt during intercourse? At which point?

Then he examined me and explained that I had suffered removal of the clitoris and damage to the labia minora. He told me that the labia minora hadn’t been deliberately damaged (as in the case of pharaonic circumcision) but because of my anatomy at 4 years old (the procedure was approximate, imprecise). In scarring, they became joined together and the clitoris was positioned out of its normal place. My vulva is inflexible, less elastic than it should be because of the scarring, which could give me problems during childbirth.

“We can make a complete repair”. When he said that, my heart leapt out of my chest and something swelled up in my rib cage like a flower blossoming. My God but that was good to hear that sentence!

Returning to his office he explained that he would remove the scar tissue, separate and reconstruct the labia minora, then free the clitoris.

He also proposed that I take part in an experimental procedure for improving the structure of my labia minora by way of a product which would be injected and would be absorbed in 18 months to 2 years. Up till now, 100 patients had done this and seemed happy. I agreed (I believe I would have accepted anything that Dr Miracle suggested) That would give a complete reconstruction, he told me, of my vulva.

I will have nothing to pay if my insurance takes care of the excess fees of 300 euros. Social security takes care of the 5000 euros which is the charge for reconstructing my clitoris and labia minora. The 1600 euros for the aesthetic improvement of my labia will be taken care of by the people who are leading the experimental procedure.

We came to the moment of arranging the operation. He asked me when I would like it to be done. That amazed me. I thought he was overwhelmed. I asked if it would be possible during May. His reply surprised me: “Not before?” The operation is going to take place on 16 May 2007. I will be admitted to the clinic the evening before and I will leave during the morning of 17 May. My man will come for me by car. To prepare for the operation I have to have a blood test, meet the anaesthetist on 11 May and stop smoking (smoking heightens the risks of complications from the operation) at least 6 to 8 weeks before the big day.

The doctor showed me that the information on the operation which will reach the social security was coded. They would not know therefore why I was having the operation. It’s not very important for me but perhaps it could be a disadvantage if it were known (I really can’t imagine how, but one never knows …. ).

I found the doctor really kind, I felt an individual, unique, important and that was ridiculously good. He was attentive and I felt good. Moved but relaxed. He asked what my gynaecologist had told me about my circumcision. I replied that she had never said anything about it but that was already better than the previous who had told me it didn’t matter and in any case, it was done, full stop. He finished by “pleasure, it’s all in the mind. What do you want? There are women who never have an orgasm, that’s how it is.” Yippee.

The doctor seemed overcome by what I told him. We chatted a little. I asked the doctor if a woman in the position of my cousin, who had several children, could be operated. And I had the confirmation yes.

He worried me a bit by saying “Good, well, if I don’t die first, there should be no problem.” That was perhaps a joke but seeing how I worried about his death before, I began to regret not having asked for an earlier date for the operation.

He was very clear and very complete in his explanations. For the operation I would have a general anaesthetic and a local anaesthetic. I would be in pain for a week and then the pains would decrease. I would have a follow up visit after 2 weeks of convalescence, then a month later and then 6 months later. After that last visit he would suggest a follow up by a sexologist if I wanted one.

During the 6 weeks of healing, there will be some discharge but it is normal, there is some drainage to be done. I will have treatment and dressings.

It is necessary to wait for 6 weeks to pass before resuming any physical or sexual activity. As I don’t have a job where I need to move about a lot (I don’t need to walk much for a start), the doctor thinks a certificate for a week off work should do. The clitoral sensation, pleasure, reappears after on average 6 months.

The appointment is over, I paid the fee, made an appointment with the anaesthetist, and registered at the reception to reserve a room.

Leaving, I felt strange: I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. And I was very anxious (don’t let him die, don’t let him die too soon). It made me feel better to talk to my cousin when I called her as soon as I returned home. My man and my best friend were delighted along with me.

I can’t wait for 16 May 2007. Can’t wait, can’t wait!

[original in French]

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Tomorrow

Thursday 1 March 2007

This morning I woke very early, about 6 o’clock, with fear in my stomach. Tomorrow is my consultation. Tomorrow. I’ve thought about the journey: Paris to Saint Germain en Laye. According to Mappy it takes 1 hour 16 minutes. I’ve worked out that I need to leave at about 7:15 to 7:30 from my home to arrive promptly for the appointment, taking into account anything that might arise by chance. This morning before leaving home I set my alarm for 6:30 for tomorrow. I can’t think about anything other than that route. It’s impossible for me to imagine the hospital or the doctor.

I have, all the same, prepared some questions to ask the doctor. I know myself, I am very passive and in this instance I want to know all there is to know.

I am a little frightened and I daren’t fully let myself hope or rejoice over it.

We’ll see tomorrow…..

[original in French]
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