Bionic Mamas

you're not losing a vagina, you're gaining a son

what the hell is going on in there?

14 Comments

Up until about three weeks ago, I thought of myself as a basically healthy person. I felt lucky for being so healthy, and thought often about how unfair it was for Baby to have to deal with chronic asthma, migraines, and the frequent pain of severe endometriosis.

Then I had an ultrasound, the intent of which was to see if I still had a small polyp in my uterus, that turned up the fact that I had an 8 centimeter endometrioma on one ovary and a 4 centimeter one on the other (!). Faced with how huge 8 centimeters sounds and with the prospect of a more invasive surgery if I waited too long to have them out, I went in for a lap on Tuesday.

When the surgeon looked inside, she discovered some unexpected things. First, both my ovaries are sitting underneath my uterus. Second, the left ovary had become so enlarged that it was as big as the uterus. Third, there are adhesions from endometriosis everywhere in there. And finally, one of my tubes is blocked.

Wow. Ok. I don’t feel good about this at all.

First, somehow I feel like I should have known there was something wrong in there. Maybe I could have done something earlier, if I hadn’t been in denial, except I wasn’t really in denial, since nothing really hurt. But still, how could I not know?

And proceeding from this somewhat irrational reaction, I feel like I’ve been running my life wrong. Or something. Should I have been more invested in being the one to get pregnant? Baby really wanted to be pregnant, and I didn’t really feel strongly that I did want to, so it seemed totally right to have her go first, (or just to be the one to do it, if we only have one). But now it’s looking like I won’t have an easy time if I do want to get pregnant. Plus I’m older that Baby. But I was just going right along assuming I could get pregnant if someone put some sperm up there, like an idiot, so I had all the time in the world (or at least 6 or 7 years).

Not helping is the fact that my really nice and cheerful surgeon keeps asking me about when I want to get pregnant. I know she is happy she was able to preserve both of my ovaries and concerned that my sudden endometriosis seems severe, but, hello, we are expecting a baby in March. I’m not going to try to get pregnant right now, because that would be a nutty thing to do. I was lying in bed, addled from pain medicine, the day after the surgery, when my surgeon called to check on me. After ascertaining that I was recovering normally, she launched into a discussion of how I would probably have to do IVF. Ack! At least wait until I’m off the meds!

Baby has been a great a help through all this. The poor thing is exhausted from being pregnant and has also been doing everything for me for the past three days as I lie here and moan about how percocet gives me a raging headache and the urge to weep. I will be happy to be on my feet again, which right now feels like it won’t be until the distant future, but will really probably be something like three more days. I’ve been a bit surprised at how this recovery is sucking, but I’m not sure why I didn’t put together the fact that getting abdominal surgery = getting stabbed in the stomach. As Nick Swardson says – “no thank you to getting stabbed. I don’t want any part of that process”

Now with working link to the funny! — Ed.

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14 thoughts on “what the hell is going on in there?

  1. Ugh! Sounds like a rough go of things and have a lot of things to process right now. It is crazy what you don't know about your own body sometimes! Hope you are on the mend.

  2. Wow, that's a lot to take in, and so unexpectedly. I'm so sorry. Hoping you can get some rest and recover quickly.

  3. Wow, that's one hell of a surprise you got. I'm sorry it's made the whole future of having more children seem so much more tenuous and difficult. Hope your recovery from surgery is smooth and uncomplicated.

  4. I'm sorry to hear about that–especially the lack of sensitivity to a person just recovering from surprise surgery! I guess one good thing is that you now know this, so you can go straight to IVF and not spend the time wondering but not knowing what might be wrong. Wishing you a quick recovery!!

  5. Oh wow, I'm so sorry for all of this. I'm glad the surgery was successful, but that's a lot to adjust to so quickly. It's so weird to me that something could be wrong inside and I could not know. I mean, it's MY body, right (or in the case of ttc, Fern's body)? Some part of Fern's body knows what's happening right now and that something is wrong, why can't her brain be told?

    Doctors…oy. They have a checklist and some are better than others at figuring out what's appropriate to say when. I wish yours was more sensitive.

    I'm wishing you a speedy recovery!

  6. Ah, really sorry to hear this. I had a similar discovery and a similarly wrong-footed, shocked feeling that my body had this secret life. It'll get better – that post-anaesthesia hangover makes thinking a major feat. Clarity will return!
    Get well soon. xx

  7. Oh, wow, crikey. Blimey, even (she said Britishly). Literally, a punch in the gut, to discover said guts were busily macrame-ing themselves together into a such a mess. And then there's all the post-stabbed-in-stomach ugh and post-anaesthetic ugh and frankly your cheerful surgeon has the tact of a rhinocerous. Many sympathies and imaginary get-well-soon cards.

  8. Thanks everybody. Your comments made me feel better!

  9. Whoa….that's a rough week! I am so sorry for your news, and the pain you must be in. Sending you gentle hugs and well wishes.

  10. Ugh. What an unexpected and crummy discovery. I'm sure this brings up all kinds of yucky confusing feelings in the middle of active family building. Knowledge is power, yes, but sometimes it really sucks.

  11. Thinking of you and hoping you are already feeling lots, lots better!

  12. This is very similar to what happened to Rose last year. She had this surgery in May 2009 and they found tons of endo when they got in there, plus 2 ovarian cysts. We stuck to our plan for me to go first, because I was about to turn 37 and she was only 30, and because her doctor didn't scare her about getting pregnant except to say that it COULD be a problem and that she should do it soon. We will probably try for #2 sooner than we might have because we expect it might be tricky. However, the good news is that we know what's going on in there, and we know that a tube or two might be blocked – and we looked into the health insurance piece way before we've started trying. If Rose's endo is classified as Class 4 or both tubes are blocked or there is significant enough scarring, our health insurance will immediately cover 6 rounds of IVF. So we consider knowing lucky – we just had a friend who tried for over a year before they decided to try the surgery, and indeed, when they went in, they found tons of endo, and she got pregnant with IVF just after they cleaned her out. It sucks, for sure, but at least you know what you are dealing with!

    And I'm sorry you don't love Percocet as much as I do! Feel better.

  13. Shit. I can relate to the crazy feeling of suddenly finding out there's been a party in your lady parts all this time and you only *just* found out. I'm sorry you have to deal with all this unexpected news. Hope your recovery is quick and (soon-to-be) painless.

  14. Pingback: Back In The Saddle | Bionic Mamas

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