The Big Surgery (alternately Thoughts on Painkillers)

Today I had a partial hysterectomy. It was elective but for my health and sanity. I’m beyond blessed with my care team and to be in a position to have it done and take time off work. Been thinking a lot this week about what this surgery means to and for me.

After 32 years of awful periods, excruciating cramps, and sharp shooting pains in my lower abdomen, I had my last period last month and once I heal, that ends the monthly discomfort and pain. I often thought I had endometriosis but my surgeon didn’t mention finding any but he did note the scarring in one of my tubes that caused my first miscarriage while almost killing me.

Today means an end menstrual cups pressing on my bladder and bleeding through tampons and the like and risking damage to my clothing. Though, folks with periods, make the switch to cups! So much easier, more convenient, and healthier for your reproductive organs.

What else? No more miscarriages. Yes, I wanted the fetuses I carried to become children but they didn’t and about 8 years ago, I knew I didn’t want children anymore. I didn’t want them for the first 25 or so years of my life either. There was only a small period of time that I thought it would be right for me and for most of that time, I wanted to raise a child as a single mother. I think I always knew, having a man in my life would only be a headache instead of a help. Time proved me right. I essentially consider my previous marriage as a trial run of having a child and it helped me see I was right in the beginning: no kids.

This means that I won’t cause myself further medical/ health difficulties as a result of pregnancy or even attempting to get pregnant (I could only have children with medical intervention). To have a child would have meant coming off of or altering the medication regimen that keeps me sane and in less pain. It would have meant consistently exposing myself to every flu and cold on the playground. I had planned to homeschool but socialization would still have been important. No pregnancy means not creating new aches and pains or drastically changing this body that I love so much. In fact, I warned my Momma today while she had my phone to look at pics with caution (should she have needed to; she’s not a snoop) because I make sure to document this physical body as it changes over time. It has its flaws but damn, it’s pretty. Prettier even with age, because of the love I give it.

This surgery means that my money stays where I like it: in my belly and in my closet. Beautiful clothes and small children don’t go together and all the money I use to travel and create art would have gone into things for them.

Having a child would have meant giving up my favorite pastime: sleeping. No more sleeping in late and no more late nights that weren’t about tending to a sick or fussy child. No more spending entire days in bed reading or binging a show without a child needing attention.

It also would have meant that my clean home would have taken way more effort to keep up. Having a dog already means extra chores and he’s old enough now to cause little damage. Plus, he’s cuter than any child would be, even a child of mine who would have been blessed with my genetics.

What else? Well, you may already know where this is going… without a womb, a certain judicial panel can no longer force me to carry a child I don’t want and I physically could not care for. In fact, I would love to ask my surgeon to take my womb and address it to that panel of judges. If they want to remove my ownership of it, fine, they can have it! Assholes. I can’t stop bad things from happening to me at the hands of violent men, but this way I can limit the damage they can cause me. No state or country can now force this particular repercussion on me. 🖕🏻 Even though I’m no longer interested in men, it doesn’t mean that I am safe from their violence.

I’m on painkillers right now, mildly in pain from the procedure, but it’s the last of this particular sort of pain. I’d spent the last few years saying, “Come on menopause!” but waiting for menopause would have meant a decade or more of periods and all their discomforts. I opted for one large discomfort to opt out of those possibly 100+ periods and all the pain that went with them. I still have my ovaries so I will still suffer from those hormonal changes, but not to the same extent that they do now. I also eliminated some big cancer risks. Of course that’s a major bonus.

I know that this option is not available to all people who menstruate. I know that many doctors will refuse a patient the right to make their own decisions if they don’t already have children. Even my doctor said that I would feel differently once it’s my child. Look, I’ve never loved being around children. They’re sometime cute from afar but I was never one to beg to hold the baby or babysit and I firmly believe in 21+ events and travel destinations.

I also let him know in these words: I’m 43; if I wanted kids, I’d have kids. I would have already done it when I had energy and youth on my side. I would have found a way to pay for the IVF required for me to carry. I didn’t because I didn’t want it (except for the few years that I did, which were more the aberration- and there was only man I wanted to have children with and went through fertility treatments with).

Is there some summation for me to offer? Perhaps it will be: if you 100% don’t want to have children, advocate for yourself. Of course doctors will promote bcp or IUDs but hormonal birth control comes with loads of side effects including that you are likely to choose a different partner than you would without it. They say there are few side effects but if there were so few side effects, then why did they scrap the same sort of pills for men based on fewer side effects than the ones for people with wombs?

The implantation and extraction of IUDs are done without proper anesthetics. People with wombs are expected to simply tolerate the manual dilation of their cervix with only Tylenol or NSAIDs. It’s horrifically painful. As is the placement itself in the uterus. I’ve worked in an OB/GYN office and I’ve undergone a plethora of tests and procedures done on uteruses, Fallopian tubes, and cervixes. I speak from experience and I feel more womb bearers should advocate for proper medication in advance of painful procedures. Do not accept that you just need to grin and bear it. They do not treat those with penises the same AT ALL.

So, yeah, that’s my big, unorganized thought on what I’m going through. I never had a single second thought once I decided on this course of action. I never like going under anesthesia for fear of not waking up but I knew this time, it was worth the risk. I was anxious about the recovery, like earlier today when I was in excruciating throbbing pain despite medications. However, that passed after a few hours and now, I can walk a bit and even using the restroom isn’t as bad as when I had a biopsy on my labia because of a separate issue (I was lucky and that doc did the procedure under anesthesia and was very attentive to my pain). I have my momma here to care for me for a week and I think I’ll be doing much better in week 2, working half days and taking it easy. Catch me at Midsummer Mardi Gras with my cane and walking slow.

I don’t have an elegant way to end this ramble so: Fin.

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