Genesis, revisited.

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Genesis, revisitedAn interesting thing happened today. I found a baby garter snake curled around a fallen apple (did a double-take). Took it (the snake, not the apple) to show the spouse, because he’s into that sort of thing. Told him where I’d found it and we both shuddered in the grip of an old, old story. Even though he’s the epitome of what was once politely called “unchurched,” and I’m politely imperfect in my own spirituality. Returned the snake to the ground. Enamored of it’s beauty, shared the apple. (With the spouse, not the snake.)

I’m officially menopausal, so baby-having curses don’t apply. Still have the ovaries though, and a cousin who died of ovarian cancer. But I got a call from my oncologist, who says I’m free of the BRCA 1 and 2 mutations. Guess I’m stuck with schlepping a living by the sweat of my brow. As it ever was.

Lucas Cranach the Elder (Northern Renaissance German painter, 1472–1553) Adam and Eve 1526So what’s it all about, Mikey? I’ve occasionally experienced sacred texts as explanatory fictions made so by some soul wonderfully able to relate past arcana to present questions.

The thought that passed between my husband and I felt old as life itself, though we ultimately ignored the warning and ate the apple. Who can resist anything grown on one’s own land?

Maybe that’s the point. It often is in my business, where couples go to endless, painful lengths to have children even when their bodies refuse to cooperate. And women like me insist on replacing parts that betray them with parts that don’t look right, or feel right, or create problems of their own. Remember, that first couple didn’t eat from the tree of life, but from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Go figure.

P. S. The snake shat on me. It’s a defense mechanism and stinks like the devil. Poor Adam & Eve. Poor us.

About An UnCool Midwife

I'm a midwife who's been up all night for most of the last 30 years. Before that, I was editor of a small town newspaper. I left that job swearing I'd never face another 3 am deadline. Now I’m thinking what I really needed was a good night’s sleep. (And they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result.) But I miss writing, so I’ve decided to launch a blog to record some of the brain activity that occurs between naps. I’m a little worried about exposing my tender underbelly to the pointy public, but have decided to dive in and see how we all get along. Unexpectedly, this blog has become an outlet for thoughts & feelings that occur with my new diagnosis of breast cancer and its ongoing treatment.

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