farewell to thee

Ever since I had a menstrual cycle I remember thinking it would be hard for me to have a child. I knew being pregnant wasn’t something that would accidentally happen to me. And it never did. Not accidentally. I had imagined what a child of mine would look like with partners. They were always beautiful and full of joy. Then, after years of “seeing what happens,” my spouse and I consulted doctors to see what might be keeping us from having a baby “the old fashioned” way.

It turned out we both needed some help. So we embarked on a journey to fine-tune our systems and got assistance from a fertility clinic. We talked about what we could do, plan, invest in. The doctor said “All you need is ONE good embryo. That’s it.” We didn’t realize what that entailed. What did that look like? Well, for us, it was three inseminations. One failed IVF that turned into an insemination. An IVF where the embryos had genetic abnormalities. And finally, thankfully, one IVF cycle that gave us ONE healthy embryo.

Since then, my body has gone through a lot. After the shock and awe of having and raising a child, my system decided to have a rager of a party that I just showed up to clean. Acne, cramping, irregular bleeding, rage, and an alarming number of fibroids that took up so much space in my uterus that they wondered why my uterus wasn’t larger. So, after some deep thought, I made the decision to have a hysterectomy. No more uterus, cervix, or fallopian tubes. My ovaries will still inhabit my lower abdomen to do their hormonal thing to produce estrogen which helps my dopamine issues that are related to my ADHD. It would mean no more bleeding or cramping or fibroids causing me pain every month at random times. I could have a better quality of life, at least physically. And with the hopes that it would help me emotionally; not feeling like my body was pooping out on me.

It wasn’t lost on me that I could no longer have children. There were feelings of sadness, for sure. But the fact of the matter is the chances of having another kid would mean going through IVF again, which insurance does not cover, and costs tens of thousands of dollars, endless clinic visits and blood draws. And there would be NO guarantee that IVF would even work. Then there is the fact that our current political climate is dangerous and could even interfere with going through IVF. Can you imagine going through IVF and the government all of a sudden shutting down an IVF clinic? Yah. No thanks.

So I scheduled a surgery date. An OBGYN used a robot called a Davinci robot to poke holes into me and remove my uterus, cervix, and fallopian tubes. I look like I’ve been stabbed six times. My recovery took longer than expected in hospital, but I think I’ve been recovering remarkably well at home. The pain was intense the day after, but each subsequent day has been fine, with little to no pain meds required. And I think my intestines are trying to spread out and get in on the new space that’s been vacated.

My uterus is in a better place. For the decades that it was a part of me, it was able to do me a solid and did the one job we really wanted it to. And boy did it give us the best of what we could have ever hoped for. If I could have talked to my uterus before it was removed, I’d have said:

Thank you for your service.