Tommorrow we leave for Calgary. We will travel 5 hours in the car so that I can have a hysterectomy by one of the best gynecological surgeons in Canada. I’m grateful to have a skilled and experienced surgeon for my difficult case. I find myself wishing there were other options though.
Maybe lots of you reading this are in your thirties too. Perhaps you’re thinking, “great, no more periods!” I thought that too once upon a time, but now it’s different. I found myself crying on the weekend after seeing two VERY pregnant women at the store. All I could think was how my body will never again house the miracle of life. It’s heartwrenching for me to think of that. It didn’t feel that way until a few days ago though. I suppose the reality of it all hit me like a brick in the face. While I know I’m too ill to care for another child, and even if I wanted one it’s impossible, a hysterectomy is so final.
It’s unjust that I really wasn’t left a choice in the matter. It’s just the stage my body is at with Endometriosis. It makes perfect sense, I can’t have any more children, and my uterus is causing too many problems to justify keeping it. Yet something inside me is attached to it, something besides my bowel! HA!
If I didn’t insert some comic relief this post wouldn’t get finished.
I don’t know what it is making me so emotional, maybe it’s just an emotional journey. At the start of my journey, I wanted nothing more than a hysterectomy. But, then I was informed my journey of pain would still keep going even after the surgery. Lovely. Sometimes I wish Doctors were allowed to lie to you. I’m not looking forward to whatever else will need to happen after this. One step at a time.
There’s this horrible fear attached to my heart. Fear of not seeing my children again. I’m sure that’s a normal fear to have for any mother who is going into major surgery. I really shouldn’t let it take me over, but I do. It helps me to really soak up my time with them paying special attention to every tiny and enormous miracle they perform on a daily basis. They truly are my greatest accomplishment. It’s nice to reflect on that, but the reason why is most definitely a bitter one.
I fear the healing process. My last surgery, the healing did not go so well. I actually had a mental breakdown and shaved the side of my head. Now, just a short year later, I go for another surgery, by a much more knowledgeable surgeon. In a city far from my home, far from my children who simply require to much care to be able to come with us. I am dreading riding home in the car for five hours three days post-op.
I could be the only thirty-something woman who feels so sad about losing her uterus, but I doubt it. My body will be entirely different after. My skin will only show faded scars in a few months. But inside my body will have lost the only thing that ever had life in it. The shelter that contained, protected and grew my beautiful children. There is a high rate of depression after a hysterectomy, even in women who keep their ovaries. I suspect this is why. It really is part of who you are. While I’m looking forward to not having periods, I also am struggling with feeling like less of a woman without them. I know that has NOTHING to do with being a woman, but it’s what turns most of us from child to woman. It feels like I’m moving from some stage I should be staying in.
Well, I have to pack. I’ll post part II at some point next week perhaps. Until then, you can see more details of my journey go down on Instagram @coinsandbabble. I’ll be documenting the WHOLE thing there!
Have you had a hyster in your 30’s? Was it as bad as my ridiculous mind has made it out to be? Were you emotional beforehand?