One week from today, I am having a hysterectomy and removal of my right ovary. One week from today, no more periods, no more ability to conceive, and hopefully not as much pain.
Every day for the past few weeks, I have been going back and forth, like an indecisive pendulum, swinging into the “this is too extreme, what if doesn’t work?” mindset and the “I need to get this thing out of me” mindset. And I am exhausted. And today I am even more exhausted because I received my 2nd dose of the Pfizer Covid vaccine yesterday. So in my weakened mental and physical state, I cannot stop crying today. The littlest things set me off, from my step-daughter rolling her eyes at me because she wasn’t hungry yet as I used every ounce of my energy to make the kids pancakes, to seeing a post of a friend’s new baby. The finality of Friday is overwhelming. That is it, the end, no going back. Can’t pass GO once my uterus is removed.
My frustration is rooted in the fact that I have to make this choice without more hope that this drastic measure will ensure less pain. My frustration is rooted in the fact there is so little research, so little funding (last year the government spend $1 per woman with Endo for research), so little knowledge for our doctors to reference. I firmly believe my doctor feels this is the right choice for me, but there is this nagging feeling deep inside me because, really, the notion is, well this could work for you but it might not. Taking your uterus is not a cure, it is the last resort to try to live a normal life. Due to my pain being so centered around the cyst in right my ovary, my ovulation, and my periods, my doctor does think this surgery should assist me in living a pain free life. But if it doesn’t, I am so worried I will fall down a dark rabbit hole of depression.
I have always wanted children. I have always had a strong desire to carry a child, give birth, be a mother. We tried fertility treatment, we tried for so many years that now my two amazing step-kids are 13 and 11, and my husband is pushing 50. He doesn’t want to be a bad dad, it is his biggest fear, and being a 70 year old dad when your kid is 20 is not his ideal. The only option for me to conceive, as I have shared before, is IVF. And that is not a choice we are willing to make, that I am willing to make, because it negatively affects my family financially and emotionally. I have come to terms with this notion, but it doesn’t mean the grief doesn’t cut me like a knife when I least expect it. And it doesn’t mean that I am going to feel ok once that option of IVF is taken away from me. In the back of my mind, there is always that what if? What if a miracle happened? And now that glimmer of hope will be gone, crushed and thrown out with my uterus.
Btw, what do they do with me uterus once it is removed? Can I get it back and bury it? Just kidding! See, I am super loopy and exhausted today!
I saw this post the other day that Endometriosis is an inflammatory disease and that hormones affect it, it is not a hormonal disease. Well then, my uterus should stay, right? These are the thoughts that keep pushing from this is the right decision to what the hell am I doing. But it is the path I am going down. I hope it is the right path, for my family, for my mental health, for my physical pain. The tears are stinging my eyes as I type this, hot with frustration that this is really the only path I have.