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I swam through ice three weeks after giving birth. I wondered, momentarily, if it was possible to freeze breast milk in your own body. I wondered, briefly, if my uterus might shrivel up and fall out. I wondered, frankly, if I still had it in me. And yet, afterwards I felt happier, more clear-headed and warmer of heart than I had for weeks.
The question â€“ as with all things that give us a rush of adrenaline, take effort, force us outdoors and push us into severe discomfort â€“ is: should I be doing this? Is it safe? Is it advisable? Is it good for me? With half a heart we roar for the answer to be yes, the confirmation that will fling us out into the bright, sharp edge of our ability, to surprise ourselves. Yet simultaneously, and just as strongly, we hope the answer will be no; that we will be warned back into the cosy warmth of what we know, what comes easily and what wonâ€™t require standing in the howling wind with nothing but our pubes for warmth.
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