Let the Beauty We Love Be What We Do
My trip to Arizona was absolutely incredible. I cherished every moment of it. I particularly loved Flagstaff and Sedona.
But I ended up having to cut it short and return home a few days early. Why? Because I started having incredible abdominal pain.
I knew before I left that I have uterine fibroid tumors. These are benign tumors that grow in the uterus that, if too large, can cause extreme pain, discomfort, and destroy the uterus. Talking to my doctor while in Arizona it was clear I needed to return home immediately and schedule a consultation for surgery.
I could handle the abdominal pain. What really crushed me was my consultation with the surgeon.
“We never like to do this surgery on women who wish to have children. We’ll reconstruct your uterus but there’s no guarantee that you’ll be able to give birth afterwards.”
Luckily she followed that up with, “But I’m fairly confident that you’ll be alright.”
Of course that brief comfort was easily buried by the next admission. “I suggest you seriously consider having children in the next few years if that is your wish. Because fibroids have a large re-occurrence rate and should yours come back your uterus will not survive another surgery and you will be hard pressed to carry a child to term that has to fight the fibroids for space. The fibroids typically win.”
So even if I can have children, I’ll have to arbitrarily decide to get pregnant - not because I’m in love, not because I’m ready to take that step in my life - but because if I can give birth at all, it will be in a one-shot deal, in a small window of opportunity.
That really devastated me. I’ve been in a funk all week. I haven’t even told my parents yet or some of my closest friends. I’ll be calling them today.
But after sitting with all this for the past week, and feeling completely drained of any desire to function or work or be productive, I was able to come full circle to my bliss…
That doesn’t mean that we should seek pain. But challenges and discomfort force us to see life and ourselves with a new perspective. We begin asking ourselves the tough questions. And we review our attachments with tear-stained, and hence clearer, eyes.
The bliss in the pain is the recognition that if we can release our desired outcome and trust that no matter what, at our essence, we are alright - nothing can truly harm us. I can have anything and everything material (meaning made of matter, not necessarily monetary) taken from me and it still doesn’t change my evolution here as a human being and spiritual entity. I truly believe that.
I had to meditate on this every night for seven days to finally feel it though. I knew it intellectually but dammit, emotionally I was still a wreck.
I’ve never been that girl who planned my wedding from infancy or labored over the perfect baby names for half my life…but I always knew that having children would be important. That it was one of the ways I could be of service and really make a difference.
Having that jeapordized really took its toll.
But I also know that I am in full trust and that anything I am meant to do will occur, against any odds. And if I can’t have a natural birth there are so many other options.
Most importantly, I faced something that really made me feel robbed. I connected at such a deep level with my innate desire to eventually have a child by natural birth. It was beautiful to 1) connect with that desire and then 2) let it go. To know that either way I am happy.
I wish I could accurately describe the liberation in recognizing a deep desire and then releasing it. It brings me one step closer to living the truth that I am always alright and always all right. Pain is perspective. It is NOT essence.
But now I’m babbling… ![]()

This blog chronicles my life as a willful, sometimes fearless woman navigating a new self-awareness.
I have many facets, many things to heal, and many more things to celebrate.
This is my exploration of each.
Dave Churchville
September 5th, 2008 at 2:57 pm
Jaime,
Very sorry that you have to go through this situation, and hopeful all will work out the way you want it to. I have a friend who had this surgery a few years ago. She was off her feet for a few weeks, but doing very well now.
Pain is the ultimate contrast - by experiencing something we really don’t want we get a lot more clear on what we do want.
If we could just get that clarity without the pain, though.
Thanks for sharing your pain, it shows tremendous courage.
Jaime Mintun
September 5th, 2008 at 3:59 pm
“If we could just get that clarity without the pain.”
That’s the goal.
Someone recently shared with me that we need to go through our healings but we must be careful not to get stuck in the “I need to heal” space.
I think that’s a really good point. Or else we’ll continually draw issues we need to heal and pain we get to have “awakenings” from. The truth is we don’t need these things to reach awareness. They just make it easier.
Rachel
September 5th, 2008 at 6:06 pm
In typical fashion, I kind of got the hits I should let you meditate on stuff for a while… but I’m sending “I love you” vibes over all the time!
I checked out flights today… I’m definitely going to be there for the surgery, we’ll just have to work out the times because I have that wedding soon after. I’m EXCITED TO SEE YOU - even under these conditions - and I’ll make sure to buy you lots of apple fritters to make you feel better.
And you’re right - there are TONS of options beyond natural childbirth, IF it comes to that. You have so much love in you that no matter what happens, you’ll be blessing the world a zillion times over. But that’s all premature, so I’m not even going to entertain that thought for too long.
If nothing else, know that I love you+++++, I’m here for you, and you get a free tummy tuck out of the whole shabang!
One more thing… I heard the best insult the other day, maybe it’ll make you smile (we’ll use Tom the bartender as the example here):
“When ignorance reaches $40 a barrel, I want the drilling rights to his head.”
I said it to Brian the other day and he said he spit up on his monitor.
Jaime Mintun
September 5th, 2008 at 6:59 pm
hahahha Rachel, you always make me laugh!!! I love you so much.
Great insult.
And you are the most amazing friend I could hope to have. Part of me wants to tell you not to come out, that I’ll be fine and my parents are going to look after me.
But I’m too selfish. I can’t wait to see you! Oooooh and apple fritters. You’re a woman after my own heart. Will you marry me?
Joselin
September 7th, 2008 at 12:46 pm
Sorry to hear about your situation. Get better, so that you can be on Oprah and continue taking over the world! Remember, God doesn’t give us anything we can’t handle.
OneLove
JMane
Jaime Mintun
September 8th, 2008 at 12:45 am
Joselin, thank you. How are you? I hope all is well. Feel free to drop me a line some time.
I’m holding strong and each day I grow more confident that all will work out just fine.
I love your last point, “God doesn’t give us anything we can’t handle.” Yes and YES!
Every day I learn to trust a bit more.
Rob Lear
September 11th, 2008 at 9:29 pm
Jaime,
What a horrible time to have this happen (not that any time is a particularly good time) but to be in such a beautiful place as Sedona and Flagstaff and have to cut it short… I was actually born in Flagstaff and I miss that part of the world.
I know you will get through this, stay strong and keep the faith!
Rob
Jaime Mintun
September 13th, 2008 at 3:07 pm
Rob, you were born in Flagstaff!? That is incredible. I fell in love with that place and am considering returning there for the fall to live there a few months after I recover.
Rob Lear
September 16th, 2008 at 2:39 pm
It’s a very nice place. My family left when I was still a baby because I got sick a lot, maybe the cold weather…anyway it’s a beautiful landscape and all of central and northern Arizona is so GRAND (no pun intended!) You will have to post pictures on your site if you decide to live there. I would love to see them.
Ruben Chavez
October 9th, 2008 at 12:06 pm
Hey Jaime,
I’m glad you enjoyed your trip to Arizona. Give me a shout back, I miss talking to you.
Jaime Mintun
October 17th, 2008 at 1:27 pm
Hey Ruben. It took me a month to recover from my surgery. Sorry for the silence. How are you?