Being a woman for me has been hell. Since my first period when I was in sixth grade and the first girl to get their period.
I was really young. It was unexpected. My mom told my teacher, and I didn’t want her to, and she said something about pads being in her desk in front of the whole damn class. I remember feeling so embarrassed, instead of it actually being a really beautiful thing that’s happening and that’s going to be a part of your life forever.
I always had terrible cramps. I’d miss like one day of school almost always in a cycle and none of my friends really had that experience. And I always thought I had a really high pain tolerance. But, eventually my doctor put me on birth control to help with periods, when I was really young – in middle school.
And then they never got better, and it was an emotional rollercoaster – being on birth control for, I don’t know, I was probably in my late twenties. When a friend finally asked me, how long have you been on birth control? Have you ever thought about not using birth control and doing an IUD? So I got an IUD. And yeah, they don’t warn you about the pain of that at all either. I didn’t take any medication beforehand. I didn’t have anybody to drive me home. It’s a wild experience.
And then I was going to do some traveling and I couldn’t find the strength. So I went to have an appointment to make sure everything was okay. I was lucky enough, at the time I didn’t have insurance, so I went to Planned Parenthood and I was lucky enough to see a doctor from OHSU who would come once a week or once every month. And she did a transvaginal ultrasound and she said, are you aware that your uterus is studded with fibroids?
I had no idea. And she asked if I was in any pain. And you know, I had painful periods, but no, I didn’t think so. And she said most women have fibroids, but they don’t really ever cause any complications. But then I remembered my mom and my aunt had fibroids and they both had to have hysterectomies at 40.
It was maybe two years after that I started having crippling pain, heavy bleeding. So I went to my gynecologist at the time who was amazing. I went in and removed my IUD because it was time anyways, and then she was able to remove some fibroids vaginally. That bought me some time, I think.
Then it was year before COVID. I had a myomectomy, so they cut me wide open and they removed a pound of fibroids. And since then I’ve been on daily hormones. I was on this birthing path with my partner of seven years, you know, planning to try to get pregnant and then had this awful breakup. COVID happened. Just so much change at one time. But doctors have been suggesting a hysterectomy for me since like before I was 30. And I’ve had so many terrible doctor’s experiences – just very insensitive. And with Kaiser, you feel like a number and they’re just quick to ask why you can still have a uterus, and it almost feels blaming that they can’t even get in there and access anything. “You’re just, it’s a mess in here.” What terrible feedback to give someone. I mean, I can’t recall going to the doctors without crying either on the way there or the way home. It’s always so much to process.
I can remember, you’d see commercials – “if you have pain during intercourse or bleeding contact such and such.” And I remember telling a doctor that I was having both of those side effects and her advice was. Well, you might just not be in the right mood or in the right position. This is medical advice. Okay. And so, yeah, my entire sexual life has never been enjoyable because it’s always been very painful.
I’ve had irregular paps my entire life too. I usually get a colposcopy every year. And again, they don’t warn you how painful that is.
So yeah, now I have, I guess, outgrown this uterus of mine. It is ready to be evicted. I think at this point I’ve been getting hormone injections too to try to hopefully shrink the fibroids so they can maybe do it laparoscopically, but we don’t know.
It’s just been a really emotional experience. Because I also really wanted to have kids. I always thought I would be a parent and, you know, everyone does want to give you all the advice of how you can be a parent. Again, I’m very well aware. But it’s different. I wanted to have that experience, like the physical experience of birthing and creating life.
I’ve weighed all these options of possibly doing IVF ’cause they didn’t think that I could get pregnant naturally anymore at this age with all the complications that I have with my health. And people have suggested freezing eggs but it’s so expensive. It’s not feasible and it’s also not how I would want to experience pregnancy.
I think it’s just not happening for me in this lifetime. But I keep teasing that maybe in the next I’ll be Kate plus Eight and I’ll have a bunch of kids of my own. But I teach elementary school, so I am, you know, a mother in many ways. And I’m lucky to have many friends that have children, but it is still letting go of this story that you thought you would have forever. I mean, since I was really young. I think the hardest part for sure is accepting that this is the reality. I know I’ll physically feel better after I’m healed, but I think the emotional toll will continue for quite some time. But I’m also like maybe about to have the best sex life. Yes, at 41.
I’m just trying to accept that this is happening. And trying to comfort my mom as well because I think this is just as hard for her – wanting to be a grandparent. We as women go through so much physically and it’s really underestimated how much pain we go through constantly. To have an illness that people can’t physically see on me, I feel misunderstood quite a bit. And then I get irritated that I have to tell the story all the time and I don’t necessarily want to share all the time because people then give the feedback or advice that I don’t necessarily want. I’d rather have my feelings validated. But I too am kind of a healer, a fixer. I want to give advice as well, and I know it always comes from a place of love.
But, yeah, it’s just been a fucking roller coaster for me of endless pain and I’m looking forward to that ending for sure.
I mean, I just recently had an ultrasound and they said the tissue of my uterus lining is growing into the muscle. So not only is that enlarging my uterus, but also the fibroids. So it is the size of a four month pregnant woman. Even though I don’t get the joy of actually having a child in there.
I’m curious if they will let me see what my uterus looks like afterwards, because I think it’s probably time for it to go. All of my supportive girlfriends – we’re gonna have a little funeral for my womb after I’m healed as a way to let go and let in the summer and start to heal. This healing process is the next part of my journey.