It has been months since I have written. Months of living in what feels like a fog of sadness, grief and pain and despair so thick I cannot breathe at times. I was faking it for awhile, forced smiles and laughter and pushing my body to the brink every day. I can be strong! I will get through this! Stay positive! Well, positivity can kiss my ass my right now.
It has been 4 months post surgery. 4 months of trying to eat better, limiting my alcohol and sugar, doing therapy, and trying with all of my might to slow the Endo growth. Well, guess what folks? It’s baaaaaaaaaack.
A few weeks ago, I felt pain on my right side. The nagging pain of my cyst, the stretching and growing feeling that nasty Endometrioma gives me. Coupled with a remarkably painful period in February, I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for an ultrasound. My brain spun and spun- this is all in your head! It can’t be back so soon! You have been doing things differently this time around!
But have I been doing things differently? Have I been treating my body differently? I am working over 50 hours a week in a high pressure, high stress job. I have been trying to be a superwoman on my days off with cleaning, cooking, grocery shopping, taking care of the kids. I have not been living by what I promised myself after my last surgery. I am not giving myself breaks, allowing myself to slow down. I don’t know how. Who am I if I do not push myself to be the best I can be, to provide the best results I can professionally and personally? Right now I just keep asking myself- who am I? I feel lost, which is partly why I haven’t been writing. Whether it’s the stress of Covid, stress of things at home, stress at work, stress with Endo, I just feel lost.
And even more lost now that I am faced with my fourth surgery, this time to take out my right ovary and a hysterectomy. Last week was my 36th birthday and it was a wonderful celebration with a one night getaway with my husband, the first dose of my Covid vaccine, and nice family time. And now, in my 36th year of life, I will be saying goodbye to my uterus and any potential of carrying a child.
When I sat in that chair during my last ultrasound, a dread was creeping in. If nothing was there, maybe I was imagining my pain. If something was there, was it a record for Endo growth? The same tech who had done my past few ultrasounds couldn’t believe I was back for another. And confirmed my nightmare, my reality.
So I need to take some time. For me, for my feelings, for acceptance of my future. I need to remember the things that make me happy and do them. Writing is one of those things. Here is to continuing to share my story. I am sure many Endosisters are out there, feeling as isolated, as misunderstood, as unhappy as I am. You are not alone.