Anytime life happens, my blog(s) get pushed to the back burner, which is the case here with this one. It sure has been a while - a lot has gone on - and unfortunately, a lot more will be taking place.
I will get to all that happened during my absence, but for now, the reason I am here today!
Three weeks from today, I will once again go under the knife. This time I will be having a total hysterectomy - including the removal of the ovaries. I will then be in menopause. At 35 yrs old.
35 yrs old.
This wasn't something wished or hoped for. I didn't get up one morning and decide that this sounded like fun. Yes, I do know the consequences of this decision. Yes, I know that I will no longer be able to conceive. Yes, I know these things.
This wasn't a decision made lightly.
This came after numerous prior surgeries, medications, alternative therapies, etc.
I had my first period at 8 yrs old. 8.years.old. Just a baby and already was experiencing the hell that was to be my life. Thankfully at that age, it wasn't regular. No, it didn't become regular till I was 11. It ruled my life. I didn't leave the house without a boat load of maxi pads. I dreaded going to school - especially gym, knowing I'd have to put on those tiny shorts and at any time I could leak, exposing my secret to everyone.
The hell continued into my adult years - doctor after doctor to find out what was wrong with me. Why the hell was I bleeding so much? Why was I in so much pain?
Finally when I was 21 I found a doctor who actually listened to me. A doctor who took me seriously. A doctor who knew the minute I started describing the hell I was living what was wrong with me.
We tried some birth control to attempt to alleviate the pain/symptoms. I went on the Depo Provera shot. That was an ever bigger hell! I was on a double dose every month - I gained 60lbs in no time (seriously, less than a year), and I bled every.single.day. When I was 22 I had my first laproscopic surgery. And after that I had sweet relief. But it was short lived and about a year later, I was once again in pain every single day.
But at the very least I knew why I was in pain. I knew why we were having issues conceiving. Endometriosis is one of the leading causes of infertility.
Finally in 2003 we were able to conceive, and in 2004 I gave birth to an extremely special little boy! It took another 2.5 yrs to get pregnant with Victoria. And during that time, I had another laproscopy and more pain killers, trying to make life livable.
So fast forward to today and I am still living in excruiating pain - at times leaving me unable to walk across a room without collapsing. I've tried other birth control, Lupron, pain killers all to no avail.
Which brings me to the hysterectomy scheduled for June 14th. I am ready to be done - my body is tired and worn out.
I want to "live" again...without pain, without heavy duty bladder control pads because regular maxi pads just aren't enough,and even then I'd have to double up on the bladder control pads, without the constant influx of pain killers, the headaches, the bowel issues that accompany it, without having to be laid up half the month not wanting to move because of the pain. I am ready to be done with all of that!
But the cold, hard truth is, there is a part of me that feels that my body has let me down - that I am broken. See, I knew we were done having children. But to know that it's really going to be final in a matter of weeks, is well heart-wrenching. Yes, my body was able to carry two wonderful children, but never again will I experience that positive pregnancy test. Never again will I feel those first flutters of a new life forming inside my body. Never again will I have the anticipation that comes with waiting to meet your new little one for the first time. Never again will I get to hold a baby created within the walls of my body. Never again will I fold those little tiny clothes. Or change those tiny diapers. Or breastfeed. Never again will I rock a baby to sleep all night long. Never again will I hear "mama" for the first time. All those things are behind me...distant memories of my past...of a different time in my life.
And for that I mourn. I mourn for me and the finality of this phase of my life. Trevor is almost 7.5 yrs old - Vicky is 3.5 yrs old - my baby days are over for good. I am now moving on to a new phase of my life. And while that is exciting, I won't lie - I mourn for the days that will no longer be.