Uterusless Wanderess
I'm not sure what I expected, however, I know it wasn't this. I've waited for anger, grief, bitterness; there is none. A strange peace and acceptance continues to surround me. What a complex and puzzling structure, the human mind can be. How peculiar it is to be just as surprised by one's perception of and response to life events, as everybody else!
It has been almost two months now since my womb and I parted ways. I would like to say we parted as friends but that's poppycock—we've been mortal enemies for years, her and I. Utey and I rarely saw eye to eye—embryos were planted in her fields and she rejected them, causing anaemia was her favourite game and as a side hobby, she knitted endometrium into her muscle walls, laughing hysterically, I'm sure, as her handmade-with-hate adenomyosis sweater dropped me to my knees in pain. Yes, my uter-arsehole was a sadist, though I'll never forget her sweet side. For twenty-seven months, out of the 378 months of my life, I loved her dearly. Despite the babes she refused to take in, Utey housed, fed and nurtured three precious cherubs. She may have masqueraded as a hard-arse for most of her life, yet I see her softness in my children every day.
~
The aforementioned peace was nowhere to be found in the months leading up to my hysterectomy. Rather, I was terrified, heartbroken and torn. On the one hand, I knew our family was complete; on the other, I was all too aware, tomorrow is promised to nobody and my complete family today, could be ripped from my arms tomorrow. While I pray that never comes to fruition, it's always in the back of my mind. It is the price we must pay and the risk we always take on love. After all, as parents, our little ones are the parts of our hearts that beat outside out bodies.
I was able to console myself as the date drew closer, by discussing egg retrieval and IVF with my gynaecologist. I was keeping my ovaries, therefore, heaven forbid a hellish future should appear, surrogacy would be an option, albeit an expensive and complicated one. This knowledge persistently comforts me going forward. I have found further comfort in the fact my uterus was so riddled with adenomyosis (similar to endometriosis but inside the muscle wall of the uterus) the weight reported by the laboratory was double that of an average, healthy uterus. A hysterectomy is currently the only known cure for adenomyosis and, without one, mine would only have gotten worse.
Aside from the hysterectomy, several additional procedures were scheduled. These consisted of a bilateral salpingectomy (surgical removal of both the fallopian tubes), vault suspension (a type of reconstructive surgery to repair an anterior prolapse), a subsequent treatment of my recurrent endometriosis (a painful chronic illness with no known cure), freeing of adhesions bonding my bladder to my uterus, an ovarian cystectomy (treatment of an ovarian cyst) and a cystoscopy (examination of the bladder and urethra with a small camera). Just for some added fun, the filshie clips used for my tubal ligation, having prematurely retired from their respective posts in favour a trip around the human body, were both found in the bottom of my abdomen! These had been applied to my fallopian tubes four years prior, during laparoscopic endometriosis surgery. My gyn removed them at the time of my hysterectomy but I am devastated that she didn't save them for me as a keepsake! She did, however, capture this nifty photo of the pair of shirkers where she found them—relaxing in my Pouch of Douglas:
In total, I spent five nights and six days in hospital. Recovery was agonising, to say the least but owing to COVID-19 government regulated protocols, no children under the age of sixteen were allowed to visit any hospital in Queensland. Being away from my babies was a special kind of torture—for them and for me. It hurt to move, walking was the stuff of nightmares and my heart ached to snuggle my offspring and kiss their sweet heads.
After two nights of restless tossing and turning, it got to the point where I was so overcome with exhaustion, I somehow yanked my IV antibiotics out in my sleep. My nurse (who happened to be my friend on shift that night) came in to find it had continued pumping all over the floor throughout the night! She said she'd also been in earlier to change over the bags and, despite the alarm serenading me top note, I'd carried on snoring away. Moral of the story?? No matter how much physical or emotional pain you are in, if you deprive yourself of sleep for long enough and hit the PCA button enough times, you'll sleep through a hurricane! I hypothesise this being possible because I estimate a hurricane being roughly the same noise level as the song of the IV Pump People.
I was home from hospital for almost three weeks when I developed an infection. It was awful, to put it mildly. Making matters worse, my GP initially gave me the wrong antibiotics and my gyn had to instead prescribe two stronger ones to be taken simultaneously. She wanted to readmit me to administer more IV antibiotics but I simply could not bring myself to leave my babies again so soon. So she made me promise to text her if I got worse and to come straight back in to hospital. Admittedly, I did end up getting worse before I got better but the point is I did get better eventually.... then the other end decided it was time to party in the operating theatre! But that's a story for another blog.
Before I leave off, I just want to take the time to personally thank the special people who visited me in hospital. You made the long, lonely days a little shorter and a few shades brighter. Much love to my dear husband, my devoted mother and the best friend I could ask for.
Gratitude is also expressed to my mum, husband and mother in law for their helping hands with the kids, washing and housework while I recovered. It feels amazing to finally be back to some semblance of normalcy now. I love my family infinitely... but I do need my routine, personal space and sameness in order to function at full capacity! ❤
google.com, pub-5896944412523933, DIRECT, f08c47fec0942fa0
Comments
Post a Comment