To this day, almost three years later, I still break down from time to time. I still have a hard time getting through the days and weeks without loathing who I am at least once or twice. My fiancé always lets me cry on his shoulder when things start getting to be too much to handle. He is the same man that I was with at the time of my diagnosis, and is still as supportive as ever. And whenever someone asks me how my situation is possible, I just shrug and say, “I don’t know, I guess they just lost a few pieces and put my puzzle together wrong!”
I like to think that having MRKH makes me a more tolerant person. I understand what it is lie to wage a war inside myself, every day, and nobody can tell from looking at me on the street that I am any different. It is frustrating and strange and exciting. Every time I visit a new specialist, I have a medical file the size of half the encyclopedia to bring along. It is a crazy journey, but I am surrounded by those that love and support me for who I am, and I am quick to turn away those that are too full of negativity. I am one in 5000, and I am proud of who I am!
Thank you for reading!