As a woman, I can be a little bit hard on myself at times about the way I look. None more so than after I had a surgery. I had fibroids. Quite a bit. And my surgeon and specialist said that they had to go and it was my only option if I wanted to be healthy or ever have children.
For those who don‘t know what fibroids are, they are benign tumors but can cause prolonged periods, painful periods, heavy periods, painful sex, as well as infertility. Initially diagnosed with fibroids while in college (I think I was 20), I was constantly seeing doctors about my feminine issues prior to that. Pouring through internet articles, self-diagnosing, trying to get any help that I could until I finally asked my doctor to do an ultrasound and she did. I grew tired of talking to my family, friends, or anyone about it and it had become a part of who I was. It was painful, heavy, and would last weeks/sometimes months. I cried every period, not from the pain even though they were extremely painful, but because I would have to change everything I was doing for however long my period lasted. I would have to cancel or change plans. My period was so heavy that I had a friend hose me off at Encore Beach Club pool party in Vegas for what felt like ten minutes while I cleaned myself off and it didn’t stop there. I constantly had to worry about sitting in anyone else’s car, sofa, etc. and I even bled all over a boyfriend’s car. And finally, I got the help I needed because I ended up in the ER and hospital needing a blood transfusion for very low iron due to chronic bleeding. About six months before all of this, my PCP had told me I was fine and didn’t need iron at all which is another story, but I will definitely never see her again. Fast forward to meeting with a specialist, a few (ok a lot of) breakdowns after hearing I might not be able to have children, and a myomectomy surgery all during a global pandemic.
My surgeon ended up performing two different procedures to clear out the fibroids: laparoscopic and hysteroscopic. I wasn’t worried about the pain from surgery at that point (I was only terrified that I wouldn’t wake up from anesthesia) because I just needed the fibroids gone. I had been painfully bleeding from January until my surgery on May 26. And then continued to bleed even after until medication stopped me in July. But 3.5 hours of actual surgery later, they removed 8 fibroids, three from the inside of the uterine cavity (which makes it difficult to have children when fibroids are present and which also leads to the most bleeding), and the doctor said everything else looks great so I am hopeful and grateful! Many women have even more extreme cases and surgeries. And hopefully these fibroids never come back!
No one ever talks about the emotional toll these things have on you. I finally wore white for the first time in years and even though I wasn’t bleeding at the moment, kept constantly checking as if I was. No one talks about how these scars stay with you, not just physical scars, but emotional ones. My car trunk still has enough extra clothes for a week from period fears. I have every menstrual product under the sun in that car! After I finally took my bandages off, I cried for days because my belly button didn’t look the same and because I don’t remember what it looked like before. Probably less to do with the belly button and more to do with the emotional trauma of that experience. the surgeon even had to cauterize my belly button in a post-op visit because it was “weeping”. I even wore sweaters to the beach to cover my belly button and scars up a few times (not anymore though!)! And I still have stomach tightness that I try to massage out on one side, described by doctors as scar tissue most likely. I see my scars on my stomach now and know they will not be the only ones I have as I will have to have a c-section one day due to this surgery. They are bright and pink and pop up from the rest of my stomach but a reminder that I can get through anything, that I am human, and alive. I remember that I need to embrace my experiences, that I can’t be ashamed because they have been a part of me for the last 22 years of my life, but that they don’t control me anymore! My scars are beautiful!
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