When I was a teenager, I was diagnosed with endometriosis. My doctor suspected it but it was confirmed when I was 19 after having surgery to have a ruptured ovarian cyst removed. Over the next nearly 12 years, I ended up having 6 more surgeries to remove endo including two back to back last summer. I was referred to an amazing doctor last May who really gave us hope that he could help relieve my pain and possibly someday I could get pregnant again. That was the only reason I continued dealing with the pain, I just wanted to have another baby. More on that in a bit....
In January, after another horrible round of pain and my doctor telling me that he didn't feel that another surgery to remove endo and adhesions would help me get relief for any longer than 3-6 months, I was devastated. I felt like the world was crumbling around me. Not only was I still not pregnant, but the outlook of a pain-free life felt dismal at best. The first night, I was so sick with grief and the second night, I was speechless, didn't want to talk about any of it. Anyone who knows me knows that this is a rarity. I always have an opinion and I always want to talk, even about nothing at all. The third night though, I felt more confident about my thoughts than I ever had before. I was a little nervous to tell Mike for fear of him trying to talk me out of it, but I told him that I wanted to have a hysterectomy. I wanted to rid my body of all the junk that was causing not only my body pain, but our family as well. Not only did endo affect me, but Mike was taking on so much responsibility to keep up with Henry and the chores around here. He hated seeing me suffer and I felt guilty because I wasn't the wife or mother that I wanted to be or that they needed me to be. I know it was especially hard on my parents and family seeing me go through that. I know they were worried and didn't want me to be saddled with it. Nothing good was coming from any of this. Mike was nothing short of supportive and we talked for a couple of hours about what this would mean for us. It was probably one of the best conversations we've had in years.
I called my doctor's office the next day and made an appointment 4 weeks out to talk to my doctor about everything involved. We met with him the first week of February and he said he could do the surgery Feb 21st. Sign me up! He cautioned that I may still have pain later on down the road (adhesions/scar tissue), but that removing the two trouble makers would give me an immense amount of relief. Again, sign me up!
Of course I talked a big game leading up to it, but ended up having a bit of a freak out moment the night before. I called Mike at work, blubbering like a fool. "I can't do this. I'm not going to have the surgery." He asked me why not and all I could tell him was that I was scared. "I can't undo this. I can't change my mind after it's done." He agreed but then gave me the peace I needed. He reminded me that this was the absolute only way for me to move on with my life, to get rid of this constant pain. He reminded me that I would continue to live my life on pain pills and miss seeing Henry grow up because I was laid up in the bed half the time. He was right. I couldn't back out on the chance to make a major improvement in my life, in our lives. I knew I was ready, just needed a little reassurance is all. :)
That morning, I was a little anxious about all the normal silly what if's (What if I died? What if this, what if that?) but on the other hand, I was so ready to get the show on the road. Mike and I were met by a deacon of our church when we first got to the hospital. It was a HUGE relief and a good distraction from what was ahead of me. After some small talk about how early in the morning it was, he prayed over us, gave me a big hug and headed out for his next stop. Mike and I snuggled up in the lobby and giggled about a few things and before we knew it, the nurse called us back. She said things were going to move fast and furious, which to me was a huge relief. I just wanted to wake up and it all be over. Mama and Daddy showed up not too long after I got situated. I don't remember a whole lot because of the meds, but I was comforted having them there. Mike said a prayer and I posted a happy face on Instagram. I was ready.
It was all so surreal. Here I was, 31 years old, doing something I once thought only old ladies did. Well how about that? The truth is, I've known since I was in my early 20s that this was on the horizon for me. And to be even more transparent, I've looked forward to it for nearly as long. I knew that I wanted to have two kids and then a hysterectomy would be in the cards. God blessed me with a precious child and he has been a gift to me and Mike and our family since the day he arrived. We wanted "just one more" but that wasn't in the cards for us, at least not by conventional methods.
The surgery itself went good, especially for me because I was getting the best sleep in months. My doctor showed pictures (might be TMI, don't read the next sentence if you can't handle girl stuff) to Mike and my parents afterwards. Basically my uterus, ovary and intestines were completely stuck together. He said it was no wonder I was in so much pain. None of those things are supposed to touch each other and in fact, he had separated them just last June. Endometriosis and adhesions were also removed and will hopefully never return.
That night, a good friend and deacon of our church came to visit for a bit. I don't remember much about that night, other than I couldn't stay awake to save my life. I learned a week or two later that my sister and I had a lengthy phone conversation, definitely don't remember that. I also had a bit of a panic attack in the middle of the night but the nurse was awesome and helped get me settled back down. My oxygen levels bottomed out several times and I was labeled a "trouble breather." Gee, aren't narcotics great?! After an eventful morning with yucky details, I went home Saturday afternoon. I spent the next two weeks at home resting with the exception of going to church one Sunday and working part time from home the second week. Mike and I really enjoyed our quiet time together, especially during the days when Henry was at school. I was glad for the normalcy to slowly creep back into our lives. Life is normal for the first time in a very long time.
Here I am, one month (4 weeks) out and I know without a doubt that this was the right decision I could have made for myself and for our family. I feel amazing compared to how I felt before the surgery. The constant ache is gone. The uncertainty of how long is this gonna last is gone. The nights of crying, feeling sorry for myself and praying to God to take it all away, yep, those are gone too. I've lost nearly 15 pounds because I'm no longer eating my emotions. (It's certainly not because I've been working out. Ha ha!!) Thanks be to God for His provision and new direction in my life. Sure there are times that I think "Huh, I won't ever be pregnant again" or have any more biological children but with all my certainty, I'm ok with that and I know that Mike is too. God blessed me with the chance to be a mother and I want to be just that. I want to raise Henry each day, not just on the days that I feel good enough. And who says we can't have more children?
To be continued....
:)
ReplyDelete