I was Five Months Pregnant for Years.
Maybe I’ll stop being asked by strangers when I am due…
I just had a hysterectomy. I told the nurses who were going to be in the ER that I wanted pictures of my uterus so I could see what had been troubling me all these years. It didn’t look like it thought it would. It resembled an old-fashioned hot air balloon, almost spherical.
I asked the doctor how big it was and the equation was that it was about the size of a pregnant uterus that was 18–20 weeks along.
I was five months pregnant for years.
People in the grocery store asking me when I was due was a regular thing. I would say “I’m not pregnant” and they’d feel awkward and embarrassed. I would, too. I wasn’t pregnant but I looked it.
My Obgyn was ghosting me. I couldn’t get their office on the phone. When I did finally get someone, I said, “Something is going on. Something is wrong.” I was told to find another Obgyn because the one I had been seeing was really into babies and not aging women heading to menopause.
I got a referral to another doctor but her new patient visits were 18 months out. I got on her schedule and I waited and I dealt with … whatever it was … that was going on inside my body. I could feel lumps and bulges where there shouldn’t be any.
My GP told me it was probably scar tissue and that I’d just have to deal with it. No amount of diet or exercise was going to take care of that. I guess I was going to look pregnant forever. Yay.
I get the new patient appointment. I waited 18 months for a 15-minute visit. Even though that visit was quick, it was the beginning of fixing the problem. I wrote about my harrowing, bloody experience with fibroids and scarring in my article Women’s Health Care in this Country is a Joke. However, this new doctor took action and did what needed to be done to get me right.
My surgery was August 9th. She said that she’d have to go in through my belly since my uterus was big and the fibroids were tough. The original plan was from belly button to pubis but that changed to 5” above my belly button down to the pubis. She needed to make a huge incision to get out the uterus because it was so big, full of fibroids.
The same size as if I was 5 months pregnant.
My uterus was the size of a football.
It’s gone now. Probably incinerated at this point. Good riddance if you ask me. I’m looking forward to life without that constant worry; the constant worry about blood and leaking and gushing and pain and discomfort and the awkwardness of trying to hold in my stomach so I don’t look constantly pregnant.
I’m 5 days post-surgery. The swelling is starting to go down. The shooting, burning pain of nerves waking up has started. Being horizontal still feels better than vertical and since vertical is necessary, so is the abdominal binder. It just feels better to be all sinched up. I tried driving. That was fine but the bumps in the road are misery.
The Oxycontin makes me not want to eat. I hate the way it makes me feel but it does subside the pain so sleeping is easier. I am eating but not enjoying it and the meals cannot be very big. I had a sneeze bubble up but I was successful in curtailing it. Coughing has been painful. Heaven help me when that first post-surgery bowel movement comes about. Another side effect of Oxy: slow guts.
All in all, I feel good about the surgery. I am happy that the blood has stopped. I still have my ovaries so even though I am entering forced menopause, meaning no period for 12 consecutive months due to surgery, I still have ovaries doing their hormone thing. I’m sure that will be a fun ride. At this point, I’m fine with it.
The blood has stopped. The embarrassing questions from strangers will stop. I won’t have to think about this anymore. I can give away the last of my feminine hygiene products to the blessing box a few blocks away. I feel a little like a phoenix, rising up from the ashes of my incinerated uterus. The organ that brings life forth. This time, my life.
