What if you die?

"Yeah.  I've thought that, too."  (internal me)

Not the right answer to a question asked by a nine year old. 

Having anticipated this question -  not solely because I am a parenting genius but also because I have, as mentioned previously, thought it myself - I have speculated as how to answer it.  I had come up with several possibilities and scenarios.  In the end I went with explaining what the upcoming procedure is and what will happen.

Here it is, the explanation for a nine year old (and the seven year old eavesdropping from her room, invited to hear the answer but too scared to admit she wanted it):

The doctors are putting me to sleep because they can't just put that part of my body to sleep.  The dentist can put your mouth to sleep using a needle, so you don't feel all that rooting around that she does and get all upset and sore because of it.  The doctor can't put just part of my body to sleep, so she will make all of me take a nap instead, because then I won't get all upset and sore and talk too much and distract everybody.

Dr. Deeb will put a little camera on a wire up inside my vagina.  (Here I make my pointer finger snake around).  The doctors are going to peek around and have a look inside me in the special room for babies that we talked about before.  My uterus or womb, remember?   It's not working properly, the doctor wants to have a look at it and clean it off with some special tools.  Kind of like how the dentist cleans your teeth.  I would rather be asleep for that, it's less uncomfortable that way.

.......

"What if it looks bad?  Your womb?  What if it is still bleeding?  Remember all the blood you had down your legs, can they stop that from happening again?"

"If it is really bad the doctor will tell me, and then we will have it fixed.  It may get taken out, then I won't have to worry any more.  That won't happen right away though.  We will have a lot of time to figure it out.  The medecine I am taking now will stop any more bleeding.  That won't ever happen again."

"Okay.  Can I still worry?"

"Just a little.  I am a little worried, too.  But I do like taking naps."

(Laughter)

Please, please... let that have been the right thing to say. 

Then came..."So, no more babies can grow in you then?  How do they get there anyhow?  Sparks and electricity or is this the part where you need a daddy like with chickens?

Tomorrow child, tomorrow I will get to that part.

I need some time to think of scenarios and possible ways to answer this one.  I think this is the part where I need the Daddy, too.